CURMUDGEON’S CORNER: THE ‘COOLNESS’ FACTOR
Hmmm...now, should I come clean with the story of how I camouflaged buying The Monkees’ “Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn and Jones, Ltd.” at a local record store (at which the guys who worked there knew me) by also buying The Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Everything Playing” LP and telling the guy who rang me up that the Monkees album was for my “little sister” (a little sister that doesn’t exist)? NAH...
*****
Well, as I said last time, these young whipper-snappers do know their subject when they discuss the various post-Beatles solo releases from the beginning of the ‘70s onwards. But, in the episodes on George Harrison’s “Gone Troppo” and, most recently, Ringo Starr’s “Stop And Smell The Roses,” all four but Ken in particular had a tough time with the poor chart performance and lack of radio airplay that those two LPs received. The answer is actually rather easy to track and, for want of a better phrase, it can simply be called “the coolness factor.”
You see, given the path of The Beatles’ revolutionary years as a group and the musical leaps they made, The Beatles were always looked on as being cool. For teenyboppers and hippies and those of us in between, The Beatles were always considered a very cool band and that feeling never wavered right up to the breakup. Indeed, many people will say that the group still has that same aura and the amount of success The Beatles have had in this new century reinforces that feeling. The solo careers, though, became much more subject to the whims of public opinion, especially in the ‘70s. There was hardly a time when all four Beatles were separately regarded by the mass public as being “cool.”
In the early ‘70s, George Harrison was considered very cool, given the unqualified critical and chart success of “All Things Must Pass” and the two hit singles that set yielded, his status among the hippest of rock musicians of the day, his putting together the Concert For Bangla Desh, the first major all-star benefit rock concert, and his media tour late in 1971 to speed along the release of the concert LP set. John Lennon was granted a certain amount of gravitas simply because of who he was, his role as the founder of what became The Beatles, and the fact that he had been one of the most fascinating pop culture figures of the ‘60s. And his first two years of post-Beatles albums and singles did nothing to tarnish his image as the most daring and arguably coolest of the four. In contrast, Paul McCartney was deemed decidedly uncool during this same period because of his role as the Beatle who finally forced the breakup and then cemented it by suing the other three for divorce and due to the perception that his early post-Beatles work was not up to the standards of his Beatles resume. He was scorned for suddenly moving to a faux-hippie lifestyle with his new wife and for putting out inconsequential ditties or, if you will, silly love songs. Since the expectations for Ringo Starr weren’t as high as the others, he was cut some slack for beginning his post-Beatles career with an LP of pop standards (well before such albums became trendy) and another recorded in Nashville with the cream of the era’s country music session players. Ringo was deemed to be cool just because he was Ringo.
Unlike The Beatles’ unwavering popularity, though, those perceptions didn’t hold.John & Yoko’s ill-advised dalliance as radical-chic minstrels and the growing perception of Harrison as a not-very-subtle advocate of Indian music and Hindu philosophy certainly damaged their “coolness factors” as the ‘70s progressed. Conversely, Ringo became very cool in the mid-‘70s as a result of a string of hit singles, an LP (“Ringo”) that included contributions from the other three Beatles, and his status as a session drummer and personality among the music glitterati. And Paul began to win back favor, starting with the “Hi Hi Hi” single and continuing through the “Red Rose Speedway” and “Band On The Run” albums. By the end of 1974, it was McCartney, coming off the huge success of “Band On The Run” and with “Venus And Mars” and the “Wings Over The World” tour still ahead, who had become the coolest Beatle while Harrison was roasted by critics and even a goodly number of fans for his “Dark Hoarse” tour at year’s end.
Despite all of his personal and professional tumult in 1973-4-5, John Lennon still retained a goodly amount of his coolness factor and that only increased during his “househusband” period, culminating in the punk/new wave magazine Trouser Press putting John on its cover in 1979 with the headline “Come Back Johnny.” Harrison reclaimed some of his gravitas with his 1976 “33 1/3” album and increased association with the Python/Bonzos/”SNL” comedy circle, including his cameo in the Rutles film. So there was a constant ebb and flow to the public perception of the solo Beatles, with the unspoken thought in everyone’s mind that they still might be able to get on the same wavelength and reunite.
That dream, of course, ended on Monday night, Dec. 8 1980 and so did that very dynamic and changeable public perception of the solo Beatles, especially with Harrison out of the limelight for long stretches of time and Ringo’s career in free fall in the late ‘70s and through most of the ‘80s. With Paul the only one of the surviving three with much of a public profile in the first years after the Lennon murder, the “coolness factor” just sort of faded into irrelevancy and, to the mass public, so did George and Ringo. Hence the failures of “Gone Troppo” and “Stop And Smell The Roses.”
*****
Well, as I said last time, these young whipper-snappers do know their subject when they discuss the various post-Beatles solo releases from the beginning of the ‘70s onwards. But, in the episodes on George Harrison’s “Gone Troppo” and, most recently, Ringo Starr’s “Stop And Smell The Roses,” all four but Ken in particular had a tough time with the poor chart performance and lack of radio airplay that those two LPs received. The answer is actually rather easy to track and, for want of a better phrase, it can simply be called “the coolness factor.”
You see, given the path of The Beatles’ revolutionary years as a group and the musical leaps they made, The Beatles were always looked on as being cool. For teenyboppers and hippies and those of us in between, The Beatles were always considered a very cool band and that feeling never wavered right up to the breakup. Indeed, many people will say that the group still has that same aura and the amount of success The Beatles have had in this new century reinforces that feeling. The solo careers, though, became much more subject to the whims of public opinion, especially in the ‘70s. There was hardly a time when all four Beatles were separately regarded by the mass public as being “cool.”
In the early ‘70s, George Harrison was considered very cool, given the unqualified critical and chart success of “All Things Must Pass” and the two hit singles that set yielded, his status among the hippest of rock musicians of the day, his putting together the Concert For Bangla Desh, the first major all-star benefit rock concert, and his media tour late in 1971 to speed along the release of the concert LP set. John Lennon was granted a certain amount of gravitas simply because of who he was, his role as the founder of what became The Beatles, and the fact that he had been one of the most fascinating pop culture figures of the ‘60s. And his first two years of post-Beatles albums and singles did nothing to tarnish his image as the most daring and arguably coolest of the four. In contrast, Paul McCartney was deemed decidedly uncool during this same period because of his role as the Beatle who finally forced the breakup and then cemented it by suing the other three for divorce and due to the perception that his early post-Beatles work was not up to the standards of his Beatles resume. He was scorned for suddenly moving to a faux-hippie lifestyle with his new wife and for putting out inconsequential ditties or, if you will, silly love songs. Since the expectations for Ringo Starr weren’t as high as the others, he was cut some slack for beginning his post-Beatles career with an LP of pop standards (well before such albums became trendy) and another recorded in Nashville with the cream of the era’s country music session players. Ringo was deemed to be cool just because he was Ringo.
Unlike The Beatles’ unwavering popularity, though, those perceptions didn’t hold.John & Yoko’s ill-advised dalliance as radical-chic minstrels and the growing perception of Harrison as a not-very-subtle advocate of Indian music and Hindu philosophy certainly damaged their “coolness factors” as the ‘70s progressed. Conversely, Ringo became very cool in the mid-‘70s as a result of a string of hit singles, an LP (“Ringo”) that included contributions from the other three Beatles, and his status as a session drummer and personality among the music glitterati. And Paul began to win back favor, starting with the “Hi Hi Hi” single and continuing through the “Red Rose Speedway” and “Band On The Run” albums. By the end of 1974, it was McCartney, coming off the huge success of “Band On The Run” and with “Venus And Mars” and the “Wings Over The World” tour still ahead, who had become the coolest Beatle while Harrison was roasted by critics and even a goodly number of fans for his “Dark Hoarse” tour at year’s end.
Despite all of his personal and professional tumult in 1973-4-5, John Lennon still retained a goodly amount of his coolness factor and that only increased during his “househusband” period, culminating in the punk/new wave magazine Trouser Press putting John on its cover in 1979 with the headline “Come Back Johnny.” Harrison reclaimed some of his gravitas with his 1976 “33 1/3” album and increased association with the Python/Bonzos/”SNL” comedy circle, including his cameo in the Rutles film. So there was a constant ebb and flow to the public perception of the solo Beatles, with the unspoken thought in everyone’s mind that they still might be able to get on the same wavelength and reunite.
That dream, of course, ended on Monday night, Dec. 8 1980 and so did that very dynamic and changeable public perception of the solo Beatles, especially with Harrison out of the limelight for long stretches of time and Ringo’s career in free fall in the late ‘70s and through most of the ‘80s. With Paul the only one of the surviving three with much of a public profile in the first years after the Lennon murder, the “coolness factor” just sort of faded into irrelevancy and, to the mass public, so did George and Ringo. Hence the failures of “Gone Troppo” and “Stop And Smell The Roses.”
The Curmudgeon Pulls the Age Card!
For those of you keeping score at home, I’m 61 years old and, as such, I’m considerably older than our four friends here. Without giving away any of their ages, I generally say that I have about a decade on the four-and the decade I have on them is the ‘60s, which is certainly the one to have when discussing The Beatles. Yeah, yeah, I know, Mitch talks about sitting in front of the TV when he was three, seeing The Beatles on “The Ed Sullivan Show” and the others tell similar tales id experiencing the Beatlemania years as mere tykes. Well, I can tell you first-hand that it’s not really the same as being a teenager and being in the middle of such a phenomenon. When Elvis Presley’s career really took off nationally, in the spring and summer of 1956, I was six years old (turned seven that August) and I recall hearing “Don’t Be Cruel” and “Hound Dog” on the radio that summer and even have vague memories of seeing Elvis’ first Sullivan show appearance that September. But, even though I already had an abnormal interest in what was then called the Hit Parade, I wasn’t old enough to really “get” Elvis and the fan hysteria that was growing around him. I’m fairly certain the same can be said of these four kids regarding the whole huge Beatles phenomenon.
When they do Fab Fourum episodes on various aspects of The Beatles’ career as a group or get into other parts of the ‘60s pop scene, I often get the impression that they’ve done research on their topic but, then, make sweeping generalizations based on common public perceptions that have grown through the years but actually aren’t true. For instance, in episode 72 on The Monkees, I think it was Mitch who made the claim that hardcore Beatles fans didn’t like The Monkees. I don’t know what Mitch bases that on, but it’s not true. By the fall of 1966, when The Monkees’ TV series and their hit career began, I was as hardcore as any male Beatles fan, especially coming off “Rubber Soul” and “Revolver,” but I and many other like-minded fans really enjoyed most of the first two Monkees LPs, even after Michael Nesmith and some early rock critics blew the whistle on the fact that studio musicians had done most of the instrumental work on those two albums. Once The Monkees achieved their musical independence (a development that could only have happened in the ‘60s, by the way), we followed their career as avidly as other, more-organically-developed bands of the era and enjoyed much of their work. I particularly liked Nesmith’s pioneering country-rock efforts. Oh sure, there were no doubt some Beatles fans who looked down their noses at The Monkees but there was no large-scale anti-Monkees backlash coming from the community of Beatles fans. Indeed, in 1986, when MTV began re-running the original Monkees TV series and the group had its first three-quarter reunion, I write a piece for Beatlefan on the Beatles-Monkees connection.
In episode 65 on the “Let It Be” sessions, Tony made a similarly-ill-informed claim. He posited that there had been rumors of discord within The Beatles in the rock press during much of 1969, as the “Get Back” album kept getting pushed back, so the ultimate breakup of The Beatles wasn’t that big a shock. Wrong again. If one goes back to, for instance, Rolling Stone’s coverage of the unfolding “Get Back” saga (and it’s all available in digital form), all of the twists and turns of the various release dates and subsequent postponements were reported, usually with quotes from one or more Beatles (particularly John Lennon), but we continued to get the picture of a united group. When the Beatles Monthly ended its original run that fall, the reasons given did hint that there were some problems with access to the group members, especially John & Yoko, and, during the “Abbey Road” sessions, there was some gossiping among the Apple Scruffs and other fans who were hanging out near the EMI studios and the Apple headquarters about possible discord within the group. But none of that reached even the British pop music weeklies and certainly not the burgeoning American rock press until Lennon began speaking out at the tail-end of ’69 and the beginning of ’70, which was better than three months after John had told the other Beatles that he wanted “a divorce” about the possibility of a Beatles breakup. It wasn’t until three days before Paul McCartney released the self-interview packaged with press copies of his solo debut LP that word of his impending exit from the group first leaked out. And I won’t even go into the guesswork and incorrect assumptions about record releases, track configurations, etc. in the episode on the summer of ’64 Capitol “Something New” LP.
Now, this kind of guesswork and dependence on longstanding conventional wisdom or myth doesn’t go on when the boys do episodes dealing with the solo work of the ‘70s and beyond for the simple reason that the ‘70s is when they came of age as more-than-casual listeners of various forms of music and, especially, consumers of the releases from that first great decade of the post-Beatles careers. I amy have a different opinion about a given album or song but they generally have the history right because, as active and knowledgeable fans, they were part of it.
So I’m just sayin’, guys, if you’re going to discuss another facet of The Beatles’ career as a group in the ‘60s and you think you need some confirmation or perspective in setting the record straight...well, you know my name, look up the number...
When they do Fab Fourum episodes on various aspects of The Beatles’ career as a group or get into other parts of the ‘60s pop scene, I often get the impression that they’ve done research on their topic but, then, make sweeping generalizations based on common public perceptions that have grown through the years but actually aren’t true. For instance, in episode 72 on The Monkees, I think it was Mitch who made the claim that hardcore Beatles fans didn’t like The Monkees. I don’t know what Mitch bases that on, but it’s not true. By the fall of 1966, when The Monkees’ TV series and their hit career began, I was as hardcore as any male Beatles fan, especially coming off “Rubber Soul” and “Revolver,” but I and many other like-minded fans really enjoyed most of the first two Monkees LPs, even after Michael Nesmith and some early rock critics blew the whistle on the fact that studio musicians had done most of the instrumental work on those two albums. Once The Monkees achieved their musical independence (a development that could only have happened in the ‘60s, by the way), we followed their career as avidly as other, more-organically-developed bands of the era and enjoyed much of their work. I particularly liked Nesmith’s pioneering country-rock efforts. Oh sure, there were no doubt some Beatles fans who looked down their noses at The Monkees but there was no large-scale anti-Monkees backlash coming from the community of Beatles fans. Indeed, in 1986, when MTV began re-running the original Monkees TV series and the group had its first three-quarter reunion, I write a piece for Beatlefan on the Beatles-Monkees connection.
In episode 65 on the “Let It Be” sessions, Tony made a similarly-ill-informed claim. He posited that there had been rumors of discord within The Beatles in the rock press during much of 1969, as the “Get Back” album kept getting pushed back, so the ultimate breakup of The Beatles wasn’t that big a shock. Wrong again. If one goes back to, for instance, Rolling Stone’s coverage of the unfolding “Get Back” saga (and it’s all available in digital form), all of the twists and turns of the various release dates and subsequent postponements were reported, usually with quotes from one or more Beatles (particularly John Lennon), but we continued to get the picture of a united group. When the Beatles Monthly ended its original run that fall, the reasons given did hint that there were some problems with access to the group members, especially John & Yoko, and, during the “Abbey Road” sessions, there was some gossiping among the Apple Scruffs and other fans who were hanging out near the EMI studios and the Apple headquarters about possible discord within the group. But none of that reached even the British pop music weeklies and certainly not the burgeoning American rock press until Lennon began speaking out at the tail-end of ’69 and the beginning of ’70, which was better than three months after John had told the other Beatles that he wanted “a divorce” about the possibility of a Beatles breakup. It wasn’t until three days before Paul McCartney released the self-interview packaged with press copies of his solo debut LP that word of his impending exit from the group first leaked out. And I won’t even go into the guesswork and incorrect assumptions about record releases, track configurations, etc. in the episode on the summer of ’64 Capitol “Something New” LP.
Now, this kind of guesswork and dependence on longstanding conventional wisdom or myth doesn’t go on when the boys do episodes dealing with the solo work of the ‘70s and beyond for the simple reason that the ‘70s is when they came of age as more-than-casual listeners of various forms of music and, especially, consumers of the releases from that first great decade of the post-Beatles careers. I amy have a different opinion about a given album or song but they generally have the history right because, as active and knowledgeable fans, they were part of it.
So I’m just sayin’, guys, if you’re going to discuss another facet of The Beatles’ career as a group in the ‘60s and you think you need some confirmation or perspective in setting the record straight...well, you know my name, look up the number...
Tony T. Responds ...
Dear Al Sussedmeoutagain ...
Historians have often pointed to places where George Washington slept. And I realize that during your stint as reporter for the "Revolutionary Times" you documented many of those visits as they it happened, so I'm sure you have challenged those inaccurate declarations (pun intended) as well as those of the Fab Fourum. Note the veiled subtext: "Alright, alright ... we get it ... YOU'RE OLD!!"
While I am not averse to the presence of constructive criticism, and while I not-so-humbly respect your opinions, I must reply to a comment in your current "Curmudgeon's Corner" where you refer to one of my claim's as having been "ill-informed". I will not deny that many of my comments are, indeed, the result of the long-standing illness "musicus overloadicus", but I must defend this particular one.
I quoth to thee a heading from Rolling Stone Magazine, February 15, 1969 ... over a YEAR before the comments enclosed in McCartney's first solo album: "Apple Is Alive and Healthy ; Beatles Split Rumor is Untrue". This article discussed the (alleged) fisticuffs between George and John at a session. True, in 1969 the magazine also states that "The Beatles have gotten back and they're obviously more together than they've seemed in a long time". I pose to you the following query: Why bother acknowledging that they have "gotten back" if stories or hearsay had not been circulating to the contrary? And then, what about the HEADLINE in January of 1970 (OK, OK, so it's NOT 1969!) that stated "Beatles Splitting? Maybe, Says John". Hmm ... interesting.
A simple headline in March 1969 in the NY Times that read "Two Beatles Disagree On Shows for Public". While something this insignificant should not a break-up rumor make, it showed disparity in the camp. And Rolling Stone’s review of the White Album referred to it as "four solo albums in one roof". A few comments were also made in music mags expressing disappointment (and speculating!) about the fact that the Beatles Christmas message for that year included no segments with all four of them together.
I would imagine that only those "in the know" were aware of John's "divorce" comments in late 1969. With that in mind, I feel that the above cited statements from the press contribute to my suggestion that cracks in the firmament were subtly being shown to the public throughout 1969. Perhaps I was too liberal in my comment ... but then, I voted for Clinton. Even in 2008. OK, so I'm confused.
And so ... I take umbrage (and we have four in our group so we can play umbrage!) at your sweepingly accusatory comment regarding my having been "wrong again".
I think that our myriad, wonderful, loving fans realize that comments we make are presented from the perspective of four well-read and well-studied Beatle "historians", who make no claims to having been fully cognizant when that history was actually being made. I pointed out that cracks were, seemingly, becoming visible in the Beatles facade because most mainstream press had, previously, usually presented stories depicting the boys working happily on Beatle projects despite their individual pursuits. Before 1969 only the goings-on at Apple seemed to be the source of any "disturbance in the force". But by '69, things were shifting.
Now, your pointing out that Mitch was wrong is totally acceptable. But, nonetheless I must defend my allegedly-sweepingly-generalizing cohort by stating that you, Mr. Sussman, are one of the brave souls who actually ADMITS to the guilty pleasure of having always been a Monkees fan!
As Mr. Lefcowitz will agree (and as I have experienced many times when not standing in large vendor rooms full of fellow music geeks), many music fans (and no, I don't mean ALL of them ... sheesh!) and Beatle collectors who moved on to “long-haired music” like Weather Report, Yes and Emerson Like and Pomerantz in the 70s will swear on a stack of Tiger Beats that that they NEVER liked the Monkees. That was pop drivel, loved only by their braces-ridden little sisters in the 60s. I say "fie" on them! But these revisionists (many of whom probably tried and failed at one point to work up a Mickey 'fro!) have obviously tainted the accurate portrayal of history to some degree; a history which curmudgeons like you can now reveal to us. OK, so we'll ignore the fact that you, like all of us at Fab Fourum, are ALSO a vendor-room-trolling muso who has many of your own pre-Monkee biases in place.
You admit that there "were no doubt some Beatles fans who looked down their noses at The Monkees". My claim is that those noses were on the faces of the average Biff and Muffy of the late 60s and early 70s who considered themselves cursory music fans. Once the TV show was off the air, the bloom was off the rose; the Monkees were passe, and they could move on to the next phase of casual music fandom ... be it Engelbert or The Grateful Dead.
I ask: Why did no-one go see "Head" (or by the album!) while everyone bought the White Album? (And don't say that "not everyone bought 'We're Only In It for the Money' either, but we know Zappa was still respected".) The Monkees' more adventurous work was ignored in comparison to that of the Beatles, the Jefferson Airplane, the Who, etc. And while there weren't folks burning their Monkee records, they may have been passing them along to their younger siblings, and conveniently forgetting they had ever been fans.
Now, after my rambling, I believe that I must be balanced in my comments here, and I should thank you for your kind words about our reporting on the 70s and the solo era. Thanks.
In conclusion, Mr. Succintman, I ask that you continue your unabashed curmudgeonly pursuits here at the Fab Fourum website. After all, someone's GOT to keep tabs on us young-uns so that we don't make a mess out of Beatle-land! And, when we need a minder who can regale us with fun stories of when Marconi was teaching Scott Muni how to cue up a record at WMCA ... we absolutely know who to call!
Hugs and Warm Fuzzies ...
Tony
The Curmudgeon Is Officially ... Uh ... Curmudging!
As Al puts some perspective on the guys' iTunes episode.
While waiting in the Manhattan chill outside the Iridium Jazz Club on the early December night when Peter Asher debuted his multi-media show there, Ken Michaels stopped by and kiddingly said that I hadn't been "curmudgeonly enough" in the most recent editions of this column (and Ken knows all too well just how curmudgeonly I can get). Little did I know that Ken and Co, had recently recorded an episode in which they outdid me, in terms of being reactionary. I'm speaking, of course, of their discussion of the arrival of Beatles music on iTunes. Ken actually tried to be something of a voice of reason, even while wondering aloud about how most people listen to Beatles music, or music in general, these days. Mitch was generally uncomfortable with the concept of cherry-picking individual album tracks for purchase on iTunes. Rob was just flat-out dismissive of the entire music download practice, not surprising coming from someone who says he doesn't own a computer but does own CDs and prefers them to digital downloads. But Mr. T. was downright apoplectic, at times sputtering like Donald Duck and seemingly outraged by the mere thought of Beatles music being made available in this form.
When his head wasn't exploding, Tony's two most reasoned objections were to the loss in sound quality in converting the songs into Mp3 files and, expanding on Mitch's point, that being able to buy individual tracks compromises the art that went into the creation of Beatles albums.
Well...despite the fact that Rob considers himself and his colleagues to be "kids," the guys really sounded like reactionary old geezers, but reactionary old geezers from a specific time period. All four came into their own, in terms of the forming of their considerable musical knowledge and influences, during the golden era of album rock, of which The Beatles, as a group and on their own, were a major part. Yes, there was still Top 40 radio and there were still plenty of hit singles by one-hit wonders but, by the late-'60s and certainly in the '70s, the album had become the pivot point of the music business, especially the rock music industry. But it wasn't like that a decade before, when I came of age as a more-than-casual listener and consumer of pop/rock music. In the early-'60s, we listened to songs and bought them on singles and just listened to the one side of those singles and didn't buy LPs because we knew that most albums only had one or two songs we knew and Top 40 radio didn't play songs from albums.
All that changed with The Beatles. Top 40 radio played every note it could get its hands on by The Beatles, including tracks from their LPs, and we began turning the 45s over to hear what was on the b-side and began checking writing credits because those two magic names were showing up on records not by The Beatles. And we were beginning to recognize other songwriter and producer credits, as well. We came to know who Brian Wilson and Goffin-King and Bob Crewe and Phil Spector were. And, soon, we knew who Bob Dylan was, too.
Well, it's five decades later and it's all come full circle. Most kids now listen to songs. To a large extent, they don't buy CDs or complete albums online because all they want are the songs they like. Besides, the currently popular acts don't even attempt to fill an album with their best material now. Often, their "albums" are simply multiple remixed regurgitations of their hits. The albums that do sell are, in many cases, pegged to TV shows or movies or stars that come out of those genres. You know...like it was 50 years ago. So, other than the kids who have been spoon-fed Beatles music since they were literally in the womb, young people who hear Beatles music don't know the concept of sitting down and listening to "Rubber Soul" or the white album. They hear "Here Comes The Sun" or "All You Need Is Love" or "Hey Jude" or "Octopus's Garden" and find they like them and, now, they can go to iTunes and buy those individual songs. You know...like it was five decades ago, when I first bought 45s. And they're not desecrating the art of Beatles music any more than I was just sampling Jan & Dean's "art" when I bought the 45 of "Drag City." I was buying a song I liked, nothing more.
As for the issue of sound quality, given that three of these four gentlemen are radio professionals and the fourth is a part-time musician, I'll let them fight that battle among themselves. But I will address Ken's question of how I listen to music, particularly Beatle music, these days. Being a non-driver, I've gone through virtually every form of portable listening of the last five decades, from transistor radios through every kind of Walkman you can imagine so the iPod is just the logical extension of that. I have an iPod Classic (the hard drive iPod version) and have some 17,000 songs in there, about 95% from CDs. Shortly after 9/09/09, I took both the stereo and mono box sets and put everything into my iTunes library (but keeping the CDs, Tony-like you guys, I much prefer to have the physical CD at hand) and, when I'm out and about or doing housework at home, I usually play the iPod on shuffle. The only time I listen to specific albums is for new releases or getting reacquainted with older albums about which I'm writing. So, including Sunday morning listening to various Beatles radio shows (gee, Ken, where did I pick up that habit?), most of my listening to Beatle music is random.
Anyway, as I look at the amount of space I've devoted to this one show, hopefully, all this blathering on has been a sensible, seasoned reaction to what I thought was a pretty reactionary, yes, curmudgeonly episode of "Fab Fourum."
When his head wasn't exploding, Tony's two most reasoned objections were to the loss in sound quality in converting the songs into Mp3 files and, expanding on Mitch's point, that being able to buy individual tracks compromises the art that went into the creation of Beatles albums.
Well...despite the fact that Rob considers himself and his colleagues to be "kids," the guys really sounded like reactionary old geezers, but reactionary old geezers from a specific time period. All four came into their own, in terms of the forming of their considerable musical knowledge and influences, during the golden era of album rock, of which The Beatles, as a group and on their own, were a major part. Yes, there was still Top 40 radio and there were still plenty of hit singles by one-hit wonders but, by the late-'60s and certainly in the '70s, the album had become the pivot point of the music business, especially the rock music industry. But it wasn't like that a decade before, when I came of age as a more-than-casual listener and consumer of pop/rock music. In the early-'60s, we listened to songs and bought them on singles and just listened to the one side of those singles and didn't buy LPs because we knew that most albums only had one or two songs we knew and Top 40 radio didn't play songs from albums.
All that changed with The Beatles. Top 40 radio played every note it could get its hands on by The Beatles, including tracks from their LPs, and we began turning the 45s over to hear what was on the b-side and began checking writing credits because those two magic names were showing up on records not by The Beatles. And we were beginning to recognize other songwriter and producer credits, as well. We came to know who Brian Wilson and Goffin-King and Bob Crewe and Phil Spector were. And, soon, we knew who Bob Dylan was, too.
Well, it's five decades later and it's all come full circle. Most kids now listen to songs. To a large extent, they don't buy CDs or complete albums online because all they want are the songs they like. Besides, the currently popular acts don't even attempt to fill an album with their best material now. Often, their "albums" are simply multiple remixed regurgitations of their hits. The albums that do sell are, in many cases, pegged to TV shows or movies or stars that come out of those genres. You know...like it was 50 years ago. So, other than the kids who have been spoon-fed Beatles music since they were literally in the womb, young people who hear Beatles music don't know the concept of sitting down and listening to "Rubber Soul" or the white album. They hear "Here Comes The Sun" or "All You Need Is Love" or "Hey Jude" or "Octopus's Garden" and find they like them and, now, they can go to iTunes and buy those individual songs. You know...like it was five decades ago, when I first bought 45s. And they're not desecrating the art of Beatles music any more than I was just sampling Jan & Dean's "art" when I bought the 45 of "Drag City." I was buying a song I liked, nothing more.
As for the issue of sound quality, given that three of these four gentlemen are radio professionals and the fourth is a part-time musician, I'll let them fight that battle among themselves. But I will address Ken's question of how I listen to music, particularly Beatle music, these days. Being a non-driver, I've gone through virtually every form of portable listening of the last five decades, from transistor radios through every kind of Walkman you can imagine so the iPod is just the logical extension of that. I have an iPod Classic (the hard drive iPod version) and have some 17,000 songs in there, about 95% from CDs. Shortly after 9/09/09, I took both the stereo and mono box sets and put everything into my iTunes library (but keeping the CDs, Tony-like you guys, I much prefer to have the physical CD at hand) and, when I'm out and about or doing housework at home, I usually play the iPod on shuffle. The only time I listen to specific albums is for new releases or getting reacquainted with older albums about which I'm writing. So, including Sunday morning listening to various Beatles radio shows (gee, Ken, where did I pick up that habit?), most of my listening to Beatle music is random.
Anyway, as I look at the amount of space I've devoted to this one show, hopefully, all this blathering on has been a sensible, seasoned reaction to what I thought was a pretty reactionary, yes, curmudgeonly episode of "Fab Fourum."
Riffing on"Rubber Soul" / "Que pasa" on LENNONYC
When I saw that Episode #55 was going to deal with "Rubber Soul," I began warming up my vocal cords in preparation for screaming at the computer. After all, "Rubber Soul" is one of my very favorite Beatles albums. Ken Michaels even reminded me that I once said, on his '80s/'90s Beatles show on New Jersey's WDHA, that "Rubber Soul" is my absolute favorite and I do recall a similar comment I made on a mid-'90s episode of the syndicated "The Beatle Years" (complete with a cue-in by the always unctious Elliot Mintz) Of course, five
minutes later, I'm sure I probably said to myself, "Why on earth did I say that?" because I also love the white album and "Abbey Road" and "With The Beatles"-and the American "Meet The Beatles" even more. Which brings up one of the best points made in this episode-the differences between the American and
British versions of "Rubber Soul." With the inclusion of the U.K. "Help" LP's "I've Just Seen A Face" and "It's Only Love," the U.S. "Rubber Soul" is, as the guys pointed out, more of a folk-rock album that made for a perfect coda to the first year of folk-rock. But the British version has four excellent tracks not on the U.S. version, including one of my absolute favorite Beatles recordings, "Nowhere Man" (which, Tony, does indeed sound so much better on the "Yellow Submarine Songtrack"). I'd hate to have to choose between the two versions, though the guys actually took a crack at doing just that. So all those vocal exercises went for naught...
Full disclosure: I was at the Paley Center for the same early October screening of "LENNONYC" attended by the Fab Fourum guys but I didn't get their views on the film afterward nor did I get to see their stellar conversation with Dick Cavett from that evening until its online debut. Their opinions on the film itself, in Episode #56, pretty much mirror mine but I hadn't really flashed on the change in the tone of the film when the story shifted to L.A. and the "lost weekend." What was noticeable was that May Pang disappeared from the story rather quickly as it began to transition back to New York. Thus, at least some of the people who saw the screening that night came away with the feeling that, as May put it, "the myth continues," that it was more of Yoko Ono's version of the story, despite director Michael Epstein's denials that Yoko had any
editorial control. But the overall mood of the film did indeed turn darker once the L.A. period began. The guys also remarked about the amount of overlap in the material dealing with John & Yoko's radical-chic period in "LENNONYC" and in "The U.S. Vs. John Lennon." That can be explained away fairly easily because, let's face it, John's post-Beatles career wasn't that long and the period for which there is archival footage available is even more narrow so documentary filmmakers like Epstein and John Scheinfeld have only a finite amount of
material so there's bound to be overlap. That said, if you missed last week's broadcast debut of "LENNONYC," it's well worth viewing via On Demand at pbs.org or on the forthcoming DVD. And I'll throw in a second plug for the Fab Fourum conversation with Dick Cavett, either via audio or video. Mitch will presumably place appropriate links in this spot... (Editor's note: It's actually Tony who will be placing the link :-)
minutes later, I'm sure I probably said to myself, "Why on earth did I say that?" because I also love the white album and "Abbey Road" and "With The Beatles"-and the American "Meet The Beatles" even more. Which brings up one of the best points made in this episode-the differences between the American and
British versions of "Rubber Soul." With the inclusion of the U.K. "Help" LP's "I've Just Seen A Face" and "It's Only Love," the U.S. "Rubber Soul" is, as the guys pointed out, more of a folk-rock album that made for a perfect coda to the first year of folk-rock. But the British version has four excellent tracks not on the U.S. version, including one of my absolute favorite Beatles recordings, "Nowhere Man" (which, Tony, does indeed sound so much better on the "Yellow Submarine Songtrack"). I'd hate to have to choose between the two versions, though the guys actually took a crack at doing just that. So all those vocal exercises went for naught...
Full disclosure: I was at the Paley Center for the same early October screening of "LENNONYC" attended by the Fab Fourum guys but I didn't get their views on the film afterward nor did I get to see their stellar conversation with Dick Cavett from that evening until its online debut. Their opinions on the film itself, in Episode #56, pretty much mirror mine but I hadn't really flashed on the change in the tone of the film when the story shifted to L.A. and the "lost weekend." What was noticeable was that May Pang disappeared from the story rather quickly as it began to transition back to New York. Thus, at least some of the people who saw the screening that night came away with the feeling that, as May put it, "the myth continues," that it was more of Yoko Ono's version of the story, despite director Michael Epstein's denials that Yoko had any
editorial control. But the overall mood of the film did indeed turn darker once the L.A. period began. The guys also remarked about the amount of overlap in the material dealing with John & Yoko's radical-chic period in "LENNONYC" and in "The U.S. Vs. John Lennon." That can be explained away fairly easily because, let's face it, John's post-Beatles career wasn't that long and the period for which there is archival footage available is even more narrow so documentary filmmakers like Epstein and John Scheinfeld have only a finite amount of
material so there's bound to be overlap. That said, if you missed last week's broadcast debut of "LENNONYC," it's well worth viewing via On Demand at pbs.org or on the forthcoming DVD. And I'll throw in a second plug for the Fab Fourum conversation with Dick Cavett, either via audio or video. Mitch will presumably place appropriate links in this spot... (Editor's note: It's actually Tony who will be placing the link :-)
Did our guys get somewhere with "Nowhere Boy"?
Well, last time out (in the first of last week's double bill), panelist Mitch Axelrod was replaced by author Mitch Axelrod. This week, the entire panel gave way to Siskel, Ebert, Lyons, and Scott. Or at least that's how it sounded as the guys became movie critics. They intended to review both "Nowhere Boy" and the PBS "LENNONYC" documentary. But, of course, they ended up spending the entire episode discussing "Nowhere Boy." I have to admit that I'm not nearly as raptly fascinated as some are by John Lennon's formative years.
The public (and private) Lennon of the '60s and '70s was always plenty fascinating enough. I never felt the need to know every little detail of his upbringing. So, when I saw a DVD copy of the film several months back, I didn't feel the need to aim a magnifying glass at every little detail. As a movie, though, I thought it was quite good.
Fortunately, even though the discussion ran long, the guys didn't go all obsessive-compulsive on us in detailing the film. They did hit the highlights-the impact that the death of Uncle George had on the teenaged John, the triangle of John, Julia and Mimi as the two women competed for his love/respect, the implied rather un-maternal relationship between John and Julia, and the beginning of the Lennon-McCartney friendship/partnership.
Surprisingly, they barely mentioned the objections of McCartney and Julia Baird (on whose book the movie was allegedly based) over the plot and other matters. Tony, though, made an excellent point that the film probably should have ended with the 1958 Quarrymen recording session, rathe than stretch it out to the
point where the band was preparing to leave for Hamburg. That way, the fact that the "B" word never came up in the film would have been irrelevant. Overall, I'd have to give "Nowhere Boy" a thumbs-up and, what the hell, I'll give episode 54 (episode 53, where are you?) a thumbs-up, too!
Please welcome, Fab Fourum's 'resident' curmudgeon ... long-time Beatles columnist, Al Sussman!
First of all, I just want to thank Mitch, Ken, Rob, and Tony (his friends call him Mr. T.) for letting me take this space to vent my well-vented spleen. Over the first year of the Fab Fourum, my computer has probably gotten an inferiority complex from my shouting at it for comments the guys have made with which I didn't agree. So now I get to shout from my little corner here.
I figured that episode 52 would really make my blood curdle. After all, I really dislike the Beatle cartoons. Nothing against cartoons. I grew up with the Warner Brothers cartoons and the early Hanna-Barbera efforts and Rocky and Bullwinkle. But, by the time the Beatles cartoon series debuted in September 1965, I had just turned 16 and felt that I had outgrown cartoons. Plus, for that time, the animation was awful and Al Brodax and company had made no effort to show The Beatles as we already knew them. The voices were especially appalling, even though they were coming from the great Paul Frees. As Mitch noted in this episode, the John Lennon character sounded like Rex Harrison and the George Harrison character sounded like Peter Lorre. And the Ringo Starr character was made into some Mortimer Snerd-type dimwit while the Paul McCartney character just looked pretty and had a high-pitched voice. So I went into this episode expecting that my head would explode. Instead, I found it very entertaining and
informative. I had never bought or read Mitch's book, Beatletoons, not because of any lack of respect for his efforts, but because I just really disliked the subject. In making Mitch the focal point of the episode, though, I found that I learned a hell of a lot about the series and Tony, who I was not aware had done some professional voiceover work (which explains the constant lapsing into doing Beatle voices), gave some interesting insight into the inner workings. Also, while I had pretty much repressed MTV's running of the cartoons in the late-'80s, I was unaware that there were some differences in how they were presented. So an episode that I had expected to really dislike turned out to be one of the more enjoyable recent episodes and a learning experience.
In contrast, having been lucky enough to have been at Radio City Music Hall on July 7 for Ringo's 70th birthday All-Starr Band show, I was very interested to hear episode 52-a's wrapup of this year's tour. It appeared that Ken was taking the reins and trying to go into each member's contributions to the show but somehow that got sidetracked for a bit in favor of the well-worn-out discussion of why Ringo doesn't do a full show by himself and why he doesn't do more lesser-known songs from his catalog. Guys, I think Ringo addressed the first issue long ago by saying that he just doesn't want to do two hours as a frontman, that he finds it more enjoyable to play within a band atmosphere where there are contributions from everyone in the band. As for the second issue, as much as one would like to see/hear Ringo do "Missouri Loves Company" or even "Devil Woman", that goes against the "songs everyone knows and loves" ethos of the ASB show. Like Mr. McCartney, Ringo knows what the average person who goes to the shows, not the hardcore fan, wants to hear. And speaking of Paul, in describing the July 7 show, Ken tried to set up the incredible climax but the other guys jumped him by immediately bringing up Paul. I'm surprised at the number of people in the orchestra seats who spotted Paul's tech assistant John Hammel or the Hofner. Up in the balcony, all I knew was that the lights hadn't come up so something was going on. Anyhow, once the detours had been traversed, I thought the the discussion of the band and of the historic Radio City show
went very well.
Well, that was okay. Didn't even curse anybody out. I dunno, though, if I'm too nice, the guys'll get William Shatner's character from his new series to do these. Now, that would be something...
I figured that episode 52 would really make my blood curdle. After all, I really dislike the Beatle cartoons. Nothing against cartoons. I grew up with the Warner Brothers cartoons and the early Hanna-Barbera efforts and Rocky and Bullwinkle. But, by the time the Beatles cartoon series debuted in September 1965, I had just turned 16 and felt that I had outgrown cartoons. Plus, for that time, the animation was awful and Al Brodax and company had made no effort to show The Beatles as we already knew them. The voices were especially appalling, even though they were coming from the great Paul Frees. As Mitch noted in this episode, the John Lennon character sounded like Rex Harrison and the George Harrison character sounded like Peter Lorre. And the Ringo Starr character was made into some Mortimer Snerd-type dimwit while the Paul McCartney character just looked pretty and had a high-pitched voice. So I went into this episode expecting that my head would explode. Instead, I found it very entertaining and
informative. I had never bought or read Mitch's book, Beatletoons, not because of any lack of respect for his efforts, but because I just really disliked the subject. In making Mitch the focal point of the episode, though, I found that I learned a hell of a lot about the series and Tony, who I was not aware had done some professional voiceover work (which explains the constant lapsing into doing Beatle voices), gave some interesting insight into the inner workings. Also, while I had pretty much repressed MTV's running of the cartoons in the late-'80s, I was unaware that there were some differences in how they were presented. So an episode that I had expected to really dislike turned out to be one of the more enjoyable recent episodes and a learning experience.
In contrast, having been lucky enough to have been at Radio City Music Hall on July 7 for Ringo's 70th birthday All-Starr Band show, I was very interested to hear episode 52-a's wrapup of this year's tour. It appeared that Ken was taking the reins and trying to go into each member's contributions to the show but somehow that got sidetracked for a bit in favor of the well-worn-out discussion of why Ringo doesn't do a full show by himself and why he doesn't do more lesser-known songs from his catalog. Guys, I think Ringo addressed the first issue long ago by saying that he just doesn't want to do two hours as a frontman, that he finds it more enjoyable to play within a band atmosphere where there are contributions from everyone in the band. As for the second issue, as much as one would like to see/hear Ringo do "Missouri Loves Company" or even "Devil Woman", that goes against the "songs everyone knows and loves" ethos of the ASB show. Like Mr. McCartney, Ringo knows what the average person who goes to the shows, not the hardcore fan, wants to hear. And speaking of Paul, in describing the July 7 show, Ken tried to set up the incredible climax but the other guys jumped him by immediately bringing up Paul. I'm surprised at the number of people in the orchestra seats who spotted Paul's tech assistant John Hammel or the Hofner. Up in the balcony, all I knew was that the lights hadn't come up so something was going on. Anyhow, once the detours had been traversed, I thought the the discussion of the band and of the historic Radio City show
went very well.
Well, that was okay. Didn't even curse anybody out. I dunno, though, if I'm too nice, the guys'll get William Shatner's character from his new series to do these. Now, that would be something...
