Paul McCartney 25: Working Classical and Wingspan

He’d interspersed his last few regular album releases with out-of-genre side projects, such as the experimental Fireman techno collaborations, but it was his serious classical compositions that naturally got the most publicity. Liverpool Oratorio and Standing Stone both demand a lot of the listener, and certainly wouldn’t be given any notice by the experts if they were written by anyone else (except maybe Ringo).

By contrast, Working Classical is a mixture of some of Paul’s shorter, post-magnum opus pieces, plus some string quartet arrangements of some of his solo songs. (Most of these had been prepared for performance during Linda’s memorial services.) The blue notes in “Maybe I’m Amazed” raise an eyebrow, and the more impressionistic pieces are unobtrusive if unremarkable. The album gains points for illuminating songs like “Warm And Beautiful”, and shows big balls for orchestrating “The Lovely Linda”. It makes for quaint rainy day and Sunday morning listening, and no worse than any other “classical interpretations” of McCartney music.

Just as the Beatles Anthology CD and video series got him inspired to do Flaming Pie, Paul’s next project was nudged along by Life After Linda, and qualified by the amazingly huge success of the Beatles 1 compilation. Wingspan was a video and a book, but most of all, it was music.

The two-CD package is, per usual, teeth-gnashing fuel for the collector on a budget, but is still a great starting point for those who don’t have any of the old albums or either of the hits packages. (Disc one, the Hits disc, includes all of Wings Greatest, and most of both editions of All The Best!) The sound is fine, and just to make things interesting some of the tracks (“Junior’s Farm”, “With A Little Luck”, “Venus And Mars/Rockshow”, “Waterfalls”) are radio edits, which can make for a jumpy listening experience but helps to include more selections—over 2½ hours worth of music. “Coming Up” is the live version, while “Maybe I’m Amazed” is the studio non-Wings version. “Daytime Nightime Suffering”, while a bonus track on the Back To The Egg CD, fits nicely on the History disc with other lesser-known favorites. The only real rarity on the set is the audio of “Bip Bop/Hey Diddle” from a 1971 film with the kids and Martha running around while Mum and Dad harmonize; “Bip Bop” is much less offensive in this down-home rendition. Both versions of “No More Lonely Nights” are used to end each disc, and the “playout version” is less irritating here than on Broad Street. “Pipes Of Peace” is more appealing here too, out of its original misguided context.

Overall Wingspan is a fantastic collection, unless you don’t need it, and many don’t. It’s been pointed out that it’s supposed to be a look back at Wings, yet we still get a lot of tracks from McCartney and Ram, five tracks recorded post-Japan and numerous tracks that have just Paul on them. A more apt title for the entire project would have been How Linda Kept Me Making Music After The Beatles, but that just wasn’t as marketable. It’s incredibly listenable, whets appetites for the original albums and, more than anything, shows off why Wings was so successful and popular, and deservedly so. So where’s the box set of unreleased tracks?

Paul McCartney Working Classical (1999)—3½
Paul McCartney Wingspan: Hits And History (2001)—4½

Beatles 29: 1

Just in time for what someone termed the “Beatle-lennium”, most of the year 2000 was spent building up to the overdue release of the official Anthology book, followed by the band’s first hits collection compiled specifically for CD. Simply titled 1, it collected 27 newly remastered songs that had hit the top spot on the pop charts in either the UK or the US, from “Love Me Do” through “The Long And Winding Road”. Naturally, some favorites were left off—like “Please Please Me” and “Strawberry Fields Forever”, to name two—which annoyed some people no end. The booklet contained a testimonial from George Martin, plus depictions of various 45 sleeves from around the world and some chart info. The annotation for each track was brief, but perhaps the timely launch of the Beatles.com website was intended to hold all the extras. (It didn’t.)

As a distillation of the Red and Blue albums, the album did cover a lot of the bases, even if “Eight Days A Week” and “Yesterday” weren’t singles in the UK back then. Amazingly, considering how many times these songs had been packaged and repackaged, it was a huge seller worldwide. By this time even the children of people who weren’t alive when these songs were recorded were as entranced by the music as anyone. Given the current proliferation of boy bands and other teenybopper sensations, it provided a nice antidote for those parents. After all, the music was really, really good.

The bright red artwork reminded one of the Red album, and left our mouths watering for a blue-theme 2 follow-up—which never happened—or at least a companion DVD with all the promo videos. That only took fifteen years, when the set was repackaged with a DVD (or Blu-ray) that included videos for each of the 27 tracks. A more deluxe version, called 1+, added a second DVD (or Blu-ray) containing another 23 promo videos, some vintage and some created more recently. Some even included commentary tracks from Paul and Ringo, though not together. In all cases, the music was also freshly remixed for stereo (except for the first three songs) by Giles Martin, son of George, and someone who would loom large in future Beatle projects. (The videos for “Free As A Bird” and “Real Love” also included new remixed audio, which not only smoothed out some of the imperfections left over from John’s demos, but lessened the overall Jeff Lynne effect.) The packaging also included lots more photos, and info about the original recordings as well as the filmings.

The Beatles 1 (2000)—5

Bob Dylan 40: Greatest Hits Vol. 3 and Unplugged

He wasn’t exactly in a career renaissance, but Bob was a little more top of mind in the mid-‘90s, between aging fans who followed him from tour stop to tour stop and younger fans looking for a reason to smoke pot in public and cheer every harmonica solo.

Since it had been over twenty years, Columbia decided they could finally put together a third greatest hits album. We wonder if they’d even tried to find a recent photo to match the blue-tinted ones of the covers of the previous two, but that’s a petty concern considering that he really hadn’t had many “hits” since the last installment. Granted, the obvious ones are here—“Tangled Up In Blue”, “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door”, “Gotta Serve Somebody”, “Hurricane”, “Forever Young”, and “Silvio” (to appease the Deadheads)—but the set is also bolstered by some more clever additions. “Changing Of The Guards”, “Jokerman”, and “Series Of Dreams” are all excellent, but again, not exactly hits. “Ring Them Bells” was hardly one of the more played songs from Oh Mercy, but the inclusion of “Under The Red Sky” and all eleven minutes of “Brownsville Girl” are just plain bizarre. (At least they didn’t try to squeeze “Joey” on there.) “Groom’s Still Waiting At The Altar” is always welcome. For collectors there was one new song, “Dignity”, left over from the Oh Mercy sessions and all but rerecorded by producer du jour Brendan O’Brien.

By the end of the decade, when things had changed (foreshadowing!) for him, Sony would put out a number of “best of” collections that attempted to cover his entire career, but none would include each and every one of the songs previously deemed his greatest hits. 2007’s deluxe DYLAN came closest, though 2000’s The Essential Bob Dylan does a better job with only two discs. But back to our story.

To promote the album, Bob consented to an official MTV Unplugged performance, naturally followed by an album and home video. The program itself is pleasant enough—twelve songs, some familiar, some not so—featuring not only a performance of his latest so-called hit “Dignity”, plus the first-ever album appearance of the protest-era nugget “John Brown”.

As a Dylan concert it’s okay; some would insist that his similar shows recorded a year earlier at New York City’s Supper Club deserve wider exposure. What’s ridiculous is that his most recent “new” albums both featured bona fide unplugged accompaniment, unlike the Hammond organ and pedal steel-fueled performances here.

For keeping Bob’s image in front of new listeners, these albums did the trick. However, fans old and new would have much rather had something truly substantial to ingest, and not half-baked rehashes.

Bob Dylan Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits, Vol. 3 (1994)—3½
Bob Dylan MTV Unplugged (1995)—2½

Todd Rundgren 6: Todd

What do you do when you’re a critic’s darling with a rabid fan base and multicolored hair? Put out another two-record set, your second in two years, loaded with a baffling combination of power pop, pretty ballads and total mindwarps. Todd is certainly overindulgent (67 minutes on four sides, but there’s still muddy sound and sure, some of the instrumentals could have been edited) but with a little more variety than A Wizard, A True Star. His synthesizer use is much more advanced, and as something of a thank you to those who met the challenge “I just want to see if you’ll put up with me”, not only does the closing track sport full audience participation, but thousands of people who sent in postcards included in the previous album could find their names on the enclosed poster. What a guy.

“How About A Little Fanfare?” is just that—a brief intro to the next song, with synth and the plane effects from “International Feel”. “I Think You Know” is a spacey song on a lot of levels, with nods to Electric Ladyland, going right into “The Spark Of Life”, a long but worthy instrumental that works, especially in the Hendrix context. The lead instrument seems to be a combination of a synth, a guitar and a voice, a sound soon to be appropriated by Prince. Some call “An Elpee’s Worth Of Toons” a Gilbert & Sullivan pastiche; we compare it to “Surrey With The Fringe On Top”, and unfortunately any redeeming qualities are sunk by the “what’s the problem sonny” section. “A Dream Goes On Forever” is the token pop song people were hoping for right in the middle of side one, while the overdramatic “Lord Chancellor’s Nightmare Song” is a bona fide Gilbert & Sullivan song.

Side two begins with “Drunken Blue Rooster”, another classical-inspired instrumental that doesn’t seem like much, but gains points compared to some of the experiments to come. “The Last Ride” is an actual song, slow and pretty with a big epic sound. “Everybody’s Going to Heaven/King Kong Reggae” is a multi-part rocker with lots of guitar, punctured by the stupid ending.

The third side kicks off with “No. 1 Lowest Common Denominator”, an overblown Hendrix-style song about sex, with a stupid “poem” section, but again, we hear hints of Prince’s psychedelic period. Luckily it’s redeemed by the suite from the pretty “Useless Begging” through “Sidewalk Café”, an unnecessary but effective instrumental link to “Izzat Love?”, a bouncy pop song that sounds like it’s speeding up and slowing down within each bar. A glorious tape effect ends the track to go into “Heavy Metal Kids”, a snotty cross between “Little Red Lights” and “Slut”, and not far from “Cat Scratch Fever”.

Side four truly tries your patience with a long Moog experiment, with indecipherable vocals halfway through, before an intro right out of The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway heralds “Don’t You Ever Learn?” (We hear foreshadowings of Prince here too.) If you’re looking for a beautiful song about karma slash reincarnation, look no further. But wait! The grand finale “Sons Of 1984” was recorded mostly live with one audience singing along in one speaker, and another audience overdubbed in another speaker. An inspirational album closer on par with “Just One Victory”.

Once again, with just a little objective editing, Todd could have been an amazing single LP, but the guy just had too many ideas he needed to get out. Perhaps those less-than-satisfying moments help us appreciate those moments of musical gold all the more. Soon enough he’d find other outlets on which his expanding mind could splatter itself, yet he’d still continue to blur the line of expectation.

Todd Rundgren Todd (1974)—3

Todd Rundgren 5: A Wizard, A True Star

In 1973, Todd released the follow-up to the previous year’s wildly successful Something/Anything? While that album—two records’ worth of pop perfection, three sides of which were performed all by himself, via copious overdubbing—appealed to a wide segment of the population, people expecting A Wizard, A True Star to deliver more of the same would have been gravely disappointed.

AWATS (as the Toddheads call it) begins promisingly enough with the anthemic “International Feel”, yet soon descends into a series of short mindwarps, a sort of bizarro version of side two of Abbey Road. If he wanted to alienate the teenyboppers, this was the way to do it.

We’ve tried to figure out if there really is a difference between the two sides, and we’re not so sure there is. There are still enough moments that rank up there with the best parts of S/A? (as the Toddheads call it), and even the stranger songs have some incredible chord changes that stick in your brain. Some pet parts:
• the grand opening of “International Feel” (mentioned above), which soon develops into a faithful cover of “Never Never Land”, from Disney’s Peter Pan
• the mysterious yet soaring “Zen Archer”, which winds up with a David Sanborn sax solo and bow-and-arrow effects that have not a hint of novelty
• the reprise of the opening track, for some reason titled “Le Feel Internacionale” this time, that closes side one and ends abruptly (just like Abbey Road, oddly enough)
• “Sometimes I Don’t Know What To Feel”, which would have tricked listeners into thinking side two might be an easier ride
• the passionate performances of three sexy soul covers, which spin up into a completely undanceable “Cool Jerk” in 7/4 time
• “I Don’t Want To Tie You Down”, which puts us back into S/A? territory, before throwing some more “demonic” fretwork at us (that would be “Is It My Name”)
• and the rousing anthemic (there’s that word again) closer, “Just One Victory”, which winds up the album on a crowd-pleasing mainstream note, complete with football cheers in the chorus that don’t seem hokey at all.

That’s not to give completely short shrift to everything else; side one alone has plenty more. “Tic Tic Tic It Wears Off” is a cute instrumental trifle taken over by the fuzzier “You Need Your Head”, which is itself engulfed by the angry “Rock And Roll Pussy”. “Dogfight Giggle” is basically playing with tape for sped-up sound effects, and “You Don’t Have To Camp Around” is another sort of admonition before the keyboard-driven “Flamingo”. “Just Another Onionhead/Da Da Dali” and “When The Shit Hits The Fan/Sunset Blvd.” are a couple of not-quite-medleys that preface the “Le Feel Internacionale” reprise. On side two, “Does Anybody Love You” is a throwback to Laura Nyro, but “Hungry For Love” is just silly.

A Wizard, A True Star is still a very odd album. Part of it might be down to the fact that each side has nearly 30 minutes crammed into the grooves, making for a compressed, cramped listen. Maybe it’s because the sumbitch probably did half of it by himself again, before he turned 25. The truly bizarre artwork, from the crazy diecut cover to with strange paintings and mirror images, fit the bent journey within. But don’t be surprised if you keep going back to it.

Todd Rundgren A Wizard, A True Star (1973)—3½

Todd Rundgren 4: Something/Anything?

Todd spent his first two albums proving his versatility, both as a songwriter and as a producer. So the logical next step was to do an album all by himself. Why? Because he could.

Actually, that’s not completely accurate. Something/Anything? is split between three sides played all by his painstakingly overdubbed self, and one side of full band performances captured absolutely live in the studio. The result is two records containing some of the tastiest ear candy known to man.

So yes, that’s track after track of concise pop, fully arranged to sound like a band, starting with the Beatlesque “I Saw The Light” and followed by the low-key “It Wouldn’t Have Made Any Difference”. “Wolfman Jack” is a tribute of sorts to the onetime DJ and eventual B-lister. “Cold Morning Light” and “It Takes Two To Tango” follow the path of the sensitive singer-songwriter, but “Sweeter Memories” takes us closer to FM territory with a thicker guitar sound.

Side two (or “the cerebral side” according to his indispensable liner notes) is playfully experimental, starting with a spoken sound effects section and an instrumental that’s been used for countless radio beds over the years. “The Night The Carousel Burnt Down” is built around various keyboard effects, rescued by the pure pop of “Saving Grace”. “Marlene” is one of the sweetest love songs ever; notice how it always sounds like it’s increasing in pitch by the end, but it’s not. “Song Of The Viking” deserves to be sung by more high school choral groups, but “I Went To The Mirror” is the culmination of too many drugs in isolation.

Side three takes us completely from AM to FM with the heavy “Black Maria”, the impenetrable “One More Day” and the direct power of “Couldn’t I Just Tell You”. “Torch Song” ventures back to schmaltz, torpedoed by the car effects (later exploited by Meat Loaf) on “Little Red Lights”.

Every sound you’ve heard so far, from the guitars and keyboards to the drums and horns, has come from the deft fingers of this skinny wunderkind. To prove that he could play well with others, side four is loaded with session help to get those sounds down just right, complete with studio banter and starting with a trip through the archives. Most of the songs on this side are jokey—the success of “Piss Aaron”, “Some Folks Is Even Whiter Than Me”, “You Left Me Sore” (a PSA for VD prevention), or “Slut” depends on your mood. “Dust In The Wind” was written by his keyboard player and is not the Kansas song, but “Hello It’s Me”, itself a remake of an earlier Nazz single, is every bit the tour-de-force he anticipated.

Maybe it’s because side four sounds just a tad dated, but we lean towards the other three sides, fascinated as we are by someone who can transfer all those arrangements from his head to tape—and play decent drums, too. Something/Anything? is an impressive achievement, although as with many double albums, there is what those in the industry have come to call “filler”. Even if you skip past the ones you’re not too keen on, you’ve still got a solid 45 minutes: I Saw The Light - It Wouldn’t Have Made Any Difference - Sweeter Memories - Intro/Breathless - Saving Grace - Marlene; Song Of The Viking - Black Maria - Couldn’t I Just Tell You - Torch Song - Dust In The Wind - Hello It’s Me. (Okay, so it’s not as exciting an exercise as compiling a single-disc White Album, but what is?)

Todd Rundgren Something/Anything? (1972)—4

Robyn Hitchcock 3: I Often Dream Of Trains

Robyn took his time off to take everything back to basics, and we’re glad he did. The resulting I Often Dream Of Trains is predominantly acoustic, with absolutely zero modern production tricks.

A simple “Nocturne” on piano, which opens and closes the album proper as a “Prelude” and “Demise”, is quite haunting, and in time one could make an enjoyable compilation of his instrumentals. Then “Sometimes I Wish I Was A Pretty Girl” comes crashing in, and is more relaxed surrealism than “Do Policemen Sing?” while very logical at the same time. There aren’t really any bad ones here—“Cathedral” is nice, the multi-tracked a cappella “Uncorrected Personality Traits” is still hilarious, and “Sounds Great When You’re Dead” only pushes it slightly. “Flavour Of Night” is very Lennonesque—the album as a whole brings to mind the spooky Plastic Ono Band vibe—with a gorgeous piano line, unobtrusive saxophone and that echoey vocal. “Ye Sleeping Nights Of Jesus” is a happy “Far Away Eyes”-type singalong, kinda country.

“This Could Be The Day” is one of the earliest songs we can think of that mentions Nubians. “Trams Of Old London” is a pleasant reverie on various London locations, many of which are still accessible by tube. “Furry Green Atom Bowl” is the flip of “Uncorrected Personality Traits”, both in performance and subject matter. “Heart Full Of Leaves” is another gorgeous instrumental, going nicely into “Autumn Is Your Last Chance”—wait for the ethereal “ah” at the end. The title song starts out with all its electricity, fitting for a song about trains. Then the demise of “Nocturne” fades in and ends.

The simplicity of I Often Dream Of Trains was a stark and welcome contrast to his first two albums, and to his credit, he stuck with it for a while. As it turned out, he even stuck pretty close to his demos for the final outcome, having learned not to screw with them too much. (It also set a tone for his best albums having green covers, but more on that later.)

The 1986 CD sported five extra tracks inserted between the sides, which is where they belong. We would not be at all surprised if Neil from The Young Ones was the inspiration for “Mellow Together”. “Winter Love” doesn’t really go anywhere but “Bones In The Ground” and “My Favorite Buildings” are successful examples of unlikely rhymes fitting well. “I Used To Say I Love You” is a very sneaky meditation on the end of romance.

The Rhino CD wisely replicated the 1986 sequence, but due to form, added five demos as bonus tracks at the end that merely illustrated how fully formed the album was before its proper recording. When Yep Roc got a hold of it, none of the Rhino bonus demos were included, in favor of two other demos and three different tracks that don’t really fit the feel of the original album except for being acoustic. What’s worse, the current CD also doesn’t include “Mellow Together”, in either its proper or demo form; the other four songs added to the 1986 CD were placed after “Nocturne (Demise)” in the program. Stick with either the original or the Rhino CD.

Robyn Hitchcock I Often Dream Of Trains (1984)—4
1986 CD: same as 1984, plus 5 extra tracks
1995 Rhino reissue: same as 1986 CD, plus 5 extra tracks
2007 Yep Roc: same as 1984, plus 10 extra tracks