A mini Beatles Bible

I finally got around to reading Rolling Stone's "The Beatles: The Ultimate Album-by-Album Guide." I strongly recommend it. As a source of facts and analysis, it's thorough, insightful, witty and entertaining (albeit slavishly laudatory). Every album from the band's official canon is profiled in detail, and every track (including non-album singles and b-sides) is given a blurb-length treatment. Just don't bother with the musician testimonials; most of them range from dull and forgettable to vapid and incomprehensible.

Below is a smattering of facts, quotes and historical tid-bits that I found worthy of note:

- Paul on the spoils of success: "A Liverpool boy with this tanned beauty in my MG going out to dinner. It should have been 'Can Buy Me Love,' actually."

- I wasn't aware of this gender-modified cover of "And I Love Her." It's smokier and more textured than the original.

- In the chapter on A Hard Day's Night, Douglas Wolk posits that the album only has 13 tracks (as opposed to the early standard of 14) because, before the last recording session, Ringo came down with tonsillitis and pharyngitis, resulting in a schedule change. The band left for a tour shortly afterward, with Jimmy Nicol filling in for Ringo.

- "The Beatles covered more songs by Carl Perkins than by any other songwriter."

- "Ticket to Ride" was the first Beatles song to hit the three-minute mark. It was also their first song "built track-by-track rather than recorded live."

- According to Paul, George Martin's initial assessment of "Tomorrow Never Knows" took this form: "Rather interesting, John. Jolly Interesting." Ever the decorous, unfazed gentleman.

- The "Kinfauns demos" = "possibly the greatest 'unplugged' session in pop-music history."

- "Back in the U.S.S.R" was recorded just days after the Soviets and other members of the Warsaw Pact invaded Czechoslovakia and thwarted the Prague Spring.

- "Our relationship was platonic, believe me" - Paul wryly commenting on his English sheepdog Martha, who apparently wasn't the eponymous lass in "Martha My Dear."

- "Julia" was John's "only solo vocal performance on a Beatles recording."

"Early Takes: Volume 1"

Over the past week, I've been listening to Early Takes: Volume 1, the George Harrison compilation album that was released in tandem with Martin Scorsese's recent documentary about the Quiet Beatle. If, like me, you're not naturally drawn to George's solo catalog and, in particular, often feel overwhelmed by Phil Spector's lavish, echo-smothered, Big Pop production job on All Things Must Pass, the modest, stripped-down Early Takes may be in your wheelhouse. I mention George's first solo release because six of the comp's ten tracks are demos or early versions of songs from that album. With Spector out of the way, the difference in the texture and atmosphere of the two sets is like going from an opulent mega-church to an open-air country service. The songs here - most of them acoustic - are looser, folkier, more intimate. Unburdened of the Wall of Sound's padded lushness, notable cuts like "My Sweet Lord," "Awaiting on You All" and "All Things Must Pass" are able to stretch out and breathe freely, their spiritual themes losing no potency. The added space also benefits George's voice, which sounds more soulful, delicate and expressive than ever. (See the achingly beautiful cover of "Let It Be Me.") All told, I prefer this George Harrison to the one on All Things Must Pass. I suspect George himself did as well.

"Awaiting on You All"

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The Beatles @ the 2012 Olympics

Paul was one of the major attractions at Friday's Opening Ceremony, but - from a Beatles-oriented perspective - it shouldn't be overlooked that the Arctic Monkeys also performed. That's because the popular British rock 'n' roll quartet played a cover of "Come Together." The studio version is below; it's a straightforward rendition. I hold the perhaps incautious opinion that Alex Turner's voice is one of the heirs to John Lennon's.

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Weekend reading

"Bias at Rolling Stone Magazine?" - a critical take on the mag's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.

Excerpt: The Rolling Stone 500 would be easily dismissed as a marketing stunt were it not for the sad fact that the superiority of boomer-era rock is viewed by some as truth. These folks would agree with what Rolling Stone says about its top album: "'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band' is the most important rock & roll album ever made"; it is "rock's ultimate declaration of change." No, it is not. It had predecessors that made it possible and that are thus at least as important. And "Sgt. Pepper" brought no greater change to rock and pop music than did subsequent recordings like "Crosby Stills & Nash," "The Ramones," Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run," Michael Jackson's "Thriller," Nirvana's "Nevermind," Public Enemy's "Fear of a Black Planet" or Radiohead's "Kid A."

Sweep aside 45 years of almost-unchallenged praise, some of which has nothing to do with its 13 songs and 40 minutes of music, and really listen to "Sgt. Pepper." It is a great rock and pop album. But indisputably better than, say, "Kiko," a 1992 album by Los Lobos, or Björk's 2001 disc "Vespertine"—neither of which is among the Rolling Stone 500? Of course not. But the greatness of "Kiko" and "Vespertine" exist outside the confines of boomer-rock's narrow cultural context.

. . .

"White Elephants and Termites, Revisited" - a response.

Excerpt: The real question, then, isn’t whether the list is focused on commercial rock and pop. It’s whether the focus on the boomer golden age is justified within than context. Fusilli notes that “Of its 500 albums, 292 were released in the ’60s or ’70s, a highly improbable 59%.” But this is only “improbable” if you assume that achievements in a particular genre are randomly distributed across time. That’s absurd. Art forms have their periods of growth, maturity, and decadence. Fusilli doesn’t want to be believe that rock is in its decadence. He suggests, for example, that Los Lobos’ 1992 record Kiko and Björk’s 2001 Vespertine rival Sgt. Pepper. I have never especially liked the Beatles, and do love Los Lobos and Björk. But their work isn’t comparable in influence or technical innovation. Sgt. Pepper changed listeners’ understanding of what rock ‘n’ roll could be. Kiko and Vespertine, on the other hand, are just terrific records.

. . .

My two cents: When it comes to Rolling Stone, you should know what you're getting. For a long time it's been a thoroughly mainstream publication that, in terms of its music criticism, clings to past glories. The magazine's classicist biases - like awarding five stars to nearly every recent album by Bruce Springsteen - are well known and hardly worthy of a fuss. The pop culture mythology of the Boomer generation does make for an interesting topic, but no one should be surprised by Rolling Stone's dogmatic promotion of it. And besides, the vast majority of the albums on that list deserve the praise they received.

"Momma don't go!"

John Lennon was a complicated and challenging individual. Any attempt to understand him must begin with his mother, Julia, who died on this day in 1958 after being hit by a car; she was 44. John would later say that it was the second time his mother had abandoned him, the first being when she placed him at a young age in the care of her sister Mimi. Absent this tumultuous upbringing, who knows how much different John would've been: as a personality, a songwriter, a collaborator (Paul also lost his mother when he was young; it was part of their bond), a husband, and a father. Without the trauma, John Lennon may not have become John Lennon.

"Julia" - it cuts deep.

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"Mother" - it cuts even deeper.

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"50 Years of Rock 'n' Roll"

This past Thursday marked the 50th anniversary of the Rolling Stones' first concert, which was at London's Marquee Jazz Club. Of the lineup that survived the '60s, only Mick and Keith were involved, but the date still offers a moment to reflect on the band's legacy. Here is a look-back by author and journalist David Browne. And below are some posts I wrote that deal with the Stones in one fashion or another:

- "My favorite song at the moment" - It was "Under My Thumb," which I confessed with a certain degree of unease.

- "More on 'Under My Thumb' and 'Run for Your Life'" - I compared these two wicked, addictive songs.

- "'Death came to the party'" - I assessed the documentary Gimme Shelter.

. . .

There's obviously a lot of history between The Beatles and the Stones, much of which revolves around the supposed rivalry they had. I won't go into any of that here. Instead, I'll draw attention to the most direct and friendly connection between the two bands: "I Wanna Be Your Man." John and Paul wrote it, but they gave it to the Stones for their second single.

"I Wanna Be Your Man":

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Here's The Beatles' version:

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Inspired by The Beatles

There are days - many days, in fact - when "I Am the Walrus" is my favorite Beatles song. It doesn't carry the emotional weight of, say, "Eleanor Rigby" or "Hey Jude," and it doesn't boast the collaborative genius of "A Day in the Life," but it does deliver an experience that sets it apart. Between the kooky lyric, the bustling swirl of layered orchestration, and the triumphant circus-procession flow, "I Am the Walrus" imparts a special kind of satisfaction: you know you're listening to a song that is so different from everything that came before it and couldn't possibly be matched by anything that came after it. Many artists have likely tried, but I'm certain - without even being able to cite examples - that they all failed. The better course of action is to borrow from it and make it obvious you're doing so, the end result being a respectful homage. That's close to my take on the song below: "Tropicana" by Ratatat. Cool track, cool band.

Enjoy:

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