Technocratic Psychobabble: Names and Commentary

Technocratic Psychobabble

-Hunky had been going to night school for, oh, say two, three years, but he'd never seen anyone this bad-ass before. The Masonic midget-leper gave him a high-five on the way out and flashed his ass crack to the delight of everyone.

: A delirious return to writing after some presumed sort of meditation and regeneration following “Coming Down”, I wonder how long it took for Edward to start kicking it again with his pencil and paper (perhaps not even that long). You don’t even have to go past “Hunky” to know you’re in for a treat on this stupid joyride of a name. I love that the narrator takes time to debate how many years he wants to say Hunky’s gone to night school, but not to get it right, just to sort of amuse himself with how each number sounds. Edward’s secret (not-so-secret) talent was to combine adjectives, personifiers, amplifiers, characterizers, and tenderizers like “Masonic midget-leper” into actual figures to dance ambiguously across his stories, not unlike a certain Dylan (why doesn’t anyone ever ask why Bob Dylan’s songs sound so much like mine?!). Is it necessary for such a complex sounding character to be in this sort of funky jerk-wad of a name? Probably not, but then again, sure why not. What’s awkward and therefore funnier about the image of this class clown in adult school (a great concept in the first place) is that because this guy’s a midget and gives a “high-five” as he walks by Hunky, I would imagine that even though Hunky’s sitting at a desk, the midget still has to jump to complete this act of yeah-I-know-I’m-cool. The final touch of the butt crack is so good that it even earns the use of bandwagon in “everyone”, because that’s a bandwagon I want to be on (I actually will be going to night school for a photography class in a couple weeks bee tee dubs). (83%)

-Bert struck writer's block at the end of the fourth page in his thirteenth novel. Four pages too late.

: Who are you, me? Got enough numbers there Mr. Math Magician? “Struck”. And the weird apparent meaning in this (if you don’t get too distracted) is wild enough to earn this a place in my already established kingdom of strange abstract trash that will likely endure the death of everything else because it’s too complex and useless to do anything else, like Styrofoam. (54%)

-The Black Shirts confiscated my house and liberated my wife from sexual slavery. Buncha cheeseheads.

: One where I’ll forever remember the ending line but never the beginning. Not to say that the beginning isn’t great, because it’s ridiculous and hilarious. “Confiscated”, “The Black Shirts”. Whadafuck man. And that it seems at first like the Black Shirts are the bad guys for taking the house until apparently you realize the narrator is sexually enslaving his wife. Wut. “Buncha” and “cheeseheads” couldn’t be better partners in that phrase though, regardless of any/everything that may come before it. (73%)

-"Here me out, Isaiah. I have a message for you," I said as we hid inside the black temple. His finger was on the nuclear armageddon button.

: Haha, I like the mind-clearing simplicity of the direction that these names have been going (night school, domestic violence, and world destruction) as a contrast to the relentlessly deep, murky, and deceptive directions of much of Edward’s previous college writing. This sounds like a sort of calm one might get even after the craziest of circumstances, like whatever it took to obtain a nuclear armageddon button. “Hear me out” is such a casual phrase, it’s stupid and great. “Black temple” may be more or less than it means here, best not to stare. I have a weird feeling this one may get better in time. (64%)

-The old cripple wheeled himself down the grassy hill slowly, taking in every detail as if this day was to be his last, smiling at the rising sun. Randy shot him in the face and took his wheelchair for a joyride out on Grand Street.

: It’s like I wrote the first sentence and Greg the second. But it was Edward with the design to merge such things. “Old cripple” is a priceless character that you can’t lose with, even (or especially) when you use the act of shooting yet another person in the face and proceed to raise the pot even more with “Grand Street”. I feel like I could buy this name at Wal-Mart and never stop loving it. (78%)

-"Yeah, he had britches all right. Seven thousand pairs of 'em!" She stared at me in awe, and I slipped the five into the policeman's pocket.

: You know I’m a sucker for conversation names, and an even bigger one for conversation names with the entirety of the dialogue cut off. It’s an absurdly simple and great gag (see Lloyd’s joke during the montage in Dumb and Dumber in the ski lodge). My favorite part here, other than “seven thousand” is that she stares at him in awe as opposed to any other state of mind. (60%)

-The rotten cheese atheist rained on my parade one too many times.

: More cheese, but a great “depressing” name, a type I’m of course quite fond of; also like the definitive nature of the whole thing, not leading one way or another. (65%)

-"Tuesday night we're going over to the coliseum. Should be fun. Varsity Blues vs. Picasso's Blue Period. The bag of Twizzlers is up for grabs!" Veronica gave me a sneer that showed this wasn't the right time.

: This has stood out in my mind from this list (along with “buncha cheeseheads”) for its extreme and jarring structure. It seems like another name got written over top of another and then someone just transcribed them together, a form Ryan patented earlier than we ever knew. But if you say anything about this, you just can’t knock the fucking Blue Period, what a great damn period and concept. “Should be fun”. (73%)

-The great artist Samuel studied twenty ugly faces and twenty attractive faces for his masterwork. His mother scolded him for putting her in the ugly set.

: One of the great names that no one remembers enough. Somehow combining an original conceptual piece with not just childish punchlines, but an endearing underbelly of Samuel being an artist of odd taste and intriguing skill, plus just for the choice of “scolded” is such a nostalgic term in the face of all these cold-growing-colder-world names. Edward was always about great artists, great art, great history, basically anything that stands the test of time, whereas I tended toward the fleeting, the non-sequitor, and the abstract. It was a fine balance, and our themes often overlapped, but I’ll be looking for Samuel some years down the road to see how he’s faired against the weathering and aging of all things. (84%)

-Jebediah felt a cold chill when he peeked under the robes of his nine-year old cousin and saw the hard, wrinkly skin of disease.

: one for the disturbed audience sitting restlessly out there. Something about describing the skin in general versus specific anatomy makes this name worlds darker, though I can’t really describe why. “Hard”. (“Disease”.) This shit is best kept in the drawers (and pulled out when drunk and looking for shock and/or laugh). (70%)

-I sat quietly on my stool at the Hedonist Club while a horsy looking Oriental woman gave me a lap dance, pondering the validity of the establishment's name until Big Hairy Roger came in with a pair of flamethrowers and we got to killing some Native Americans.

: haha, this name is so reckless and careless it’s wonderful. It returns to the days when writing loose held more weight than writing deep. Not to say that loose writing can’t be deep or vice versa, but in this name, it’s all about getting your fill and getting the fuck on to the next course. “Horsy” gives this all the credibility it needs. I also like that the protagonist is on a stool. Go figure. It also feels like something out of Watchmen (the flamethrowers and nonchalant genocide). (67%)

-Frito took his daily trip to the methadone clinic and wondered what the use was anymore.

: a whopper. A too-full-about-to-burst water balloon. This comes mostly from the sharp drop off of the whole thing after getting used to Edward stringing us a few characters, plot twists, or at least descriptors before closing up shop. It’s hard not to look past this one’s cold eyes. (75%)

-Ray the carpenter spotted the armies of Vandals and Goths pouring over the hills towards our village. After he warned everyone and fled to the forests with the women and children, the local defense forced readied the proton torpedoes and launched what few TIE fighters we had. Everyone was ready to spill Germanic blood. I could see it in their eyes.

: the flow of this name from the distant background right to the face of the narrator makes the trip of this name feverish and surprisingly ambitious. Obviously a wild take on time periods and fantasies (and a welcome one – “Vandals and Goths”), it starts out in the third person, switches to a collective “we”, and then finishes with the reader staring into his compatriots beside him. A steady rise to relevance. “That’s some heavy stuff Doc.” (68%)

-"Oh, yeah, he's a conformist, but he's real good with the bow and arrow." I agreed with him. He was a good shot.

: stupid, great, and tactful. (62%)

-Osmosis Jones vs. Jones the cat from Alien.who wins?:

I knew it was only a matter of time before I arrived at this name. We (right?) all know of Edward’s feelings towards the Alien series (meaning the first two…), and none of us should really disagree. I love the ending to this though. (58%)

-Francie doll was a Persian's woman-stout, astute, able-bodied, her nipples were pierced. We spent a few nights up studying the ancient Babylonian texts before she aborted my only child.

: fuck, this one just made me laugh out loud. I completely forgot about this name. Although it doesn’t really stand out from Edward’s many names in terms of being thick with historically shaded descriptors, casual sex (although now that I look, the only actual reference to sex is the abortion), academia, and fun, jaunt-narratives from a first-person narrative, I just thought the quick “before she aborted my only child” ending was hilarious. It makes the opening meticulous details into a great diversion for both the narrator and reader before slapping down an event that, in contrast to a pierced-nipple, able-bodied woman up for shagging and deep nights (is “doll” just a nickname?), is stupidly tragic. “Only” gives the narrator a touch of longing and just makes the flip at the end funnier. “A Persian’s woman”. (86%)

-Gorilla junction* *The gates to paradise

: elegant, innovative, epic. For pretty apparent reasons, this name stood out from the rest of the many names Edward threw my way in college. This is the kind of name that appeals to my innards because of its unorthodox spacing, use of the asterisk, and let us not forget of course the sheer scope of the name in physical appearance and literal meaning. (78%)

-Ronnie had wet nightmares after Janis Joplin came into his room and tried to fuck him

: hard not to laugh or at least smile here. Females raping males (let alone a (the) female rock legend raping a tweenager-sounding boy) manages to get away with a lot more as a concept that the reverse, and here it is us, not Ronnie, who reap the benefits. (70%)

-While she was in the shower, Marty McFly rummaged through her underwear drawer, found her rosary beads, and licked them with relish

: this reminds me of a name long ago Greg wrote about Jake losing his manhood in his drawers or something, god knows. But Edward was all about these feverishly weird actions, not unlike something out of David Lynch’s head, and like his movies, this one will leave you strange blemish on your body you can’t quite remember how or when you got it. (63%)

-Her storytelling fitness regimen was starting to wear me out. And I had the suspicion some of the other kids were on steroids.

: one of the cleaner closing sentences you’ll see in these parts. I’m not sure what a storytelling fitness regiment entails but the ending makes it all worthwhile. (65%)

-The half-ton silverback gorilla and I raced across the plain, his sinewy muscles rippling beneath blankets of midnight fur. My breathing was harsh and labored, and I looked into his angry eyes for a second before pressing harder. The dull and mighty thumps from his strides pounded in my ears as my legs were weighed down by the insidious tentacles of lactic acid. Open sky was overwhelmed by a canopy of trees, birds chattering the triumphant cry of our arrival into their domain. Suddenly I came to an abrupt stop, and the great beast pushed on. I watched as its massive spinning frame plunged over the edge of the cliff and laughed at its insignificant brain. I was a little tired, but I was going into the city to get laid by a hooker.

: the first real glimpse of Edward’s taste for mini-epics since Coming Down, and this one itself is reminiscent of all the early narratives like the wings of a wombat-through a coke bottle name, the Rickert biopics, religious v. nature v. man scriptures, various out-of-body pain/pleasure dream-time happy hour names, and even back to the well-represented primate centered names like gorilla in a tuxedo and Sir Roger Hubert fighting Oboe the biggest damn ape he’d ever seen. As you can tell, this name comes from a long lineage of deep ancestors, and it doesn’t disappoint. Carrying the semi-repeated theme of doing something weird/deep/abstract and then blowing a load in the cheapest foulest way without a second thought back, this name does follow the same pattern of previous names on this list. However, what those names before it lacked in heart, adrenaline, and reverence, this one fills in sweetly. The descriptions (“midnight fur”, “insidious tentacles of lactic acid”) of the gorilla, the jungle, and the jungle birds, are raw and primal like something out of Heart of Darkness, but then smartly contrasted with an abruptly mocking and innately modern vision of the dim-witted animal charging full speed to its death, while the lazily intelligent man goes to get some good-old fashioned easy pleasure (even though he is tired). Great choice and order of the words in “but I was going into the city to get laid by a hooker”. It’s tough because I end up wanting the descriptions and wild scenery of all that builds in the name to continue with the gorilla off of that cliff, but it does seem fitting for this list that the chaos, confusion, and fury of existence be contrasted with how easy it is to toss life away and detach self into nothingness. (90%)

The Beatles, Album by Album--Conclusion

I will try to keep this short and sweet, because I know I've already bored everyone enough. I know this hasn't been the most popular blog series ever and that it was an exhaustive process, but what I wanted to shine through in my analyses was my love for the Beatles, so that maybe I could inspire others to dig into their catalogue. Like many great things, you can see their talent and their unique sense of artistry by listening to them in only brief amounts, but to truly see the depth and impact of their career, it really requires dedicated listening to their entire output. More than any other band in pop history, their career is required listening. There are many artists out there with great albums and singles, but no one did more in such a brief time to change the face of popular music as the Beatles did, and no one has such a perfect collection of records. It blows my mind that their entire recorded output was released in just seven years. There is both a conciseness and an epic scope to their career. I hope I managed to convey some of these things in my posts, but if not, please do not blame this on them. The fault is entirely mine.

I will include a list of the other posts in the series for easy access here:

Overview
Please Please Me
With the Beatles
A Hard Day's Night
Beatles for Sale
Help!
Rubber Soul
Revolver
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
Magical Mystery Tour
The White Album
Yellow Submarine
Abbey Road
Let It Be
Past Masters, Vol. I
Past Masters, Vol. II

Anyways, I hope everyone likes it. A Good Moleman to everyone!

--Edward

The Beatles, Album by Album--Past Masters, Vol. II

Collecting all of the non-album singles of the mid- to late-period Beatles, this CD expectedly has lots of hits, but some of them we've heard so many times that they deserve relistening so that we understand afresh what makes these such legendary recordings. I know that a lot of these songs I've heard so many times on the radio growing up that I basically tune them out when they come on. But if you listen to almost any of the Beatles' songs with a blank slate, they will manage to astonish you with little details that you never heard before.

"Day Tripper" is a huge leap from the songs on Past Masters, Vol. I. Although singles that came out and were placed on the album Help! (the title track and "Ticket to Ride") somewhat bridge this gap, there is still a leap in John and Paul's songwriting in 1965 and 1966 that makes this their most experimental period. There is an irony and wit in the lyrics of "Day Tripper" and "Paperback Writer" that wasn't present in pop music before this. "We Can Work It Out" is a great showcase for the contrasting personalities of John and Paul. They both seem to be approaching the same problem, and we are led to believe that the whole song is some sort of argument between themselves that they want to settle so they can make music together. Paul's answer is "We can work it out," while John's response to their bickering is "Life is very short, and there's no time for fussing and fighting, my friend." In the end, I suppose, they did work it out, because they came up with a great song about it! "Rain" was a big step for them, heralding the psychedelic masterpiece Revolver. It has early trippy vocal effects and harmonies, as well as acid-drenched lyrics. Ringo's drumming really drives the psychedelic groove, providing you with something to latch onto while your ego vanishes and you melt into the music.

There is a distinct jump on here between "Rain" to "Lady Madonna," which sound years apart. They are indeed a year apart (which in terms of the Beatles' development is a very long time), as the 1967 psychedelic singles weren't included on here, since they are on Magical Mystery Tour. While a lot of this 1967 psychedelic period I've described as sloppy and overflowing with excess, their singles did manage to really exemplify the beauty and promise of the period, especially the "Strawberry Fields Forever"/"Penny Lane" single, which probably is their finest. In any case, none of these singles are on here.

"Lady Madonna" is a good example of a song that I tend to block out whenever I hear it. It's been played so many times that I just don't usually pay much attention. But it really is a fun song, and rides completely on Paul's White Album-era, genre-leaping charm, where it seemed like he could tackle any type of music with equal aplomb. He has some arresting vocals on here--he was able to convey great empathy for the subjects in his songs through his lyrics and singing. It always seemed like Paul was endlessly interested with others he saw in the world around him, whereas John was most interested in himself. This just shows that there are two different kinds of artists out there. Again, in "Hey Jude," Paul delivers such compassionate vocals in a song about someone else. In this case, it seems to be about a friend getting over a girl, and Paul convinces him beautifully that things will be alright. Of course I've heard like everyone else that this song is about Paul trying to reassure John's son after John's divorce of his first wife, but the lyrics really have nothing to do with that. The song is an absolute masterpiece, and contains the finest coda in all of rock music (and that is including "I Want You [She's So Heavy]," 'Hotel California," "Comfortably Numb," "November Rain," and "Fade to Black"). Again, Paul's vocals in this period just showed absolute and complete confidence and control.

We have the more commonly played version of "Revolution" on here, complete with fuzzed-out-yer-ass guitars and a great keyboard solo. Who hasn't heard this? Supposedly the one on the White Album is a little edgier because John sings something like "But when you talk about destruction/Don't you know that you can count me out (in)," but let's be honest--the single version sounds a lot more hard-edge. That guitar tone must've been pretty slamming in 1968. "Don't Let Me Down" is a song I ignored for many years, but treating it as a classic soul song (much in the vein I talked about with "Oh! Darling" here) has really helped me appreciate it. The bluesy keyboard work of Billy Preston and the great guitar work complements John's passionate howling on the choruses. The raw, sub-English simplicity of the lyrics ("She done me good") really reflect the primitive power that love can have on us. Soul music is all about simplicity, about what is not being said more than about what is.

"The Ballad of John and Yoko" carries John's self-obsession in his songwriting to somewhat annoying heights. It seems just like a laundry list of his life and what he thinks are the media's attempts to destroy the perfect love between him and Yoko. As seemingly pointless as the lyrics are, it's still a catchy song. John's song "Across the Universe," which we previously heard in a different version on Let It Be, is unique-sounding on here in its stripped-down format without Phil Spector's production. It was originally released on a charity album for the World Wildlife Fund, and complete with animal sound effects, a children's choir, and gentle wah guitar that sounds like ripples in a pond, it really does depict the beauty of nature and the universe. It is one of the Beatles' most poetic songs. "You Know Me (Look Up the Number)"...you could probably answer what this is about just as well as me. It's a pretty haphazard parody/comedy song, but it's actually not half-bad. I fucking love Paul's vocals on this track. It reminds me of a Monty Python movie or something. And apparently Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones plays sax on here. Definitely one of the least-heard Beatles songs ever.

--Edward

Morons Unite! #3

You do it one more time, and I'm sending you here. Already sent your mother and I have NO qualms about coughing up the postage charge for you.

The Beatles, Album by Album--Past Masters, Vol. I

The Past Masters collection brings together all of the Beatles' singles (A- and B-sides) that didn't make it onto their LPs. These two CDs round out the Beatles canon, as well as providing a history in under 2 hours of the entire Beatles legacy. Not merely a refuse bin for material not deemed worthy for their albums, the Beatles' singles were as big of an event as the albums themselves, and the group always tried to save their best material for singles. Tracks like "I Feel Fine" or "Rain" were often experimental precursors to the legendary albums that would follow.

It is indeed a jarring transition to move from the late Beatles catalogue to these symbols of prime-time Beatlemania, but lest we forget, the Beatles were at the top of their game throughout their entire career. Ever since the release of Please Please Me, they were the greatest rock and roll band on the face of the planet. They wouldn't relinquish that title until they broke up. Despite the fact that I suppose I prefer the sophistication and versatility of their later work, there is nothing that depicts the exultation of music and youth itself like the early Beatles. They had such an explosive, unquenchable energy to them that separated them immediately from all their peers. Despite the relatively sluggish nature of their minor first single, "Love Me Do" (George Martin was wary of releasing it as their first single, although it does have a certain innocent charm to it), the group got off to a fast start with their own compositions. Their third single, "From Me to You," is a noticeable improvement, with the Beatles' signature swing and intricate harmonies. Its flip-side, "Thank You Girl," is equally complex for this early stage of their development.

However, it's with "She Loves You" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand" that Beatlemania hit its peak. I have never heard another song with quite the energy and explosive power of "She Love You," which rides on a tsunami wave of Ringo's drumming and John and Paul's delirious, pent-up singing. I love that they are singing a song in the second-person, to the audience. It is almost like they are singing about the power of music itself to bring joy and passion to their listeners. The thrill of this song is undeniable. You could make a case for it being the greatest pure rock song of all time, and you wouldn't be wrong. "I Want to Hold Your Hand," while a step down, is certainly no less historically significant. While "She Loves You" ensured Beatlemania was there to stay in Britain, "I Want to Hold Your Hand" is what brought the Beatles to America. The songwriting is more complex than ever--although it lacks the raw power of "She Loves You"--and that breakdown is just perfect. It's an astonishing song for its era.

My only problems with this collection are the same as my complaints about the early Beatles albums post-Hard Day's Night. Once their songwriting prowess hits a certain point of sophistication and innovation, it becomes somewhat annoying to hear them do covers of songs that are a decade behind the times. While songs like "Matchbox" and "Bad Boy" are undeniably fun, they pale in comparison to the Beatles originals on here (except when the Beatles are clearly imitating these past gods, such as on "I'm Down" or "She's a Woman"). Also, I'm just not a huge fan of the Little Richards/Jerry Lee Lewis-style of classic rock & roll. I much prefer the storytelling, guitar-driven songs of Chuck Berry or the R&B/soul of Ray Charles. Even though Chuck Berry is probably equally one-dimensional, there is something very repetitive to me about the piano-driven style of the above-mentioned two. Hence, a song like "Long Tall Sally" (a Little Richards cover) isn't too appealing to me. And hearing all of these covers come out after the harmonic clarity of "I'll Get You" and the beautiful rhythm guitar and close harmonies of John, George, and Paul on "This Boy" just feels like an inevitable step down. Such is basically the case with any cover (or pseudo-cover [i.e., when they did a song plainly in the style of their predecessors without irony or embellishment]) released after the songwriting epiphany of A Hard Day's Night. What the classic rock & roll songs do bring is a rave-up energy that is sadly lacking in almost any music since the '50s, and certainly in modern music. This was music to dance to, to have fun with your friends while listening to. Not to put down others for not knowing about it, or worse, to not want other people to know about it because it makes you think you are cool to like an underground band. It was about the thrill of youth and of sex. Those days are gone from music forever. It's impossible to make music anymore without being ironic or self-conscious it seems.

"I Feel Fine" is a huge step in the Beatles' evolution. From that opening amplifier feedback into that incredibly complex and catchy guitar figure into the verses and the harmonies, this song is a harbinger of groundbreaking things to come. This is mid-period Beatles perfection. "She's in love with me and I feel fine"--that really sums up the feeling of listening to this. "Yes It Is" is a very underrated ballad. The gentle singing and use of volume pedal swells on the guitar give the song a very ephemeral, delicate feel that fits the story of teenage heartbreak and longing it tells. It is perhaps John's equivalent of "Here, There and Everywhere."

Overall, I think it's definitely worthwhile to give this CD a listen. The original compositions on here are all stunning in their own right, with a few exceptions, and most of the covers are at least enjoyable. Ringo singing the Carl Perkins song "Matchbox" is a lot of fun. I do love the rave-up feel of that kind of classic rock & roll song, despite my acknowledgment that they will always be a step below the refinement of the finest Beatles compositions.

--Edward

The Beatles, Album by Album--Let It Be

I said long ago that Let It Be was probably the most troublesome of all Beatles albums, and today I stand by that opinion. That is not to say that it's a bad album. It is just not what you'd expect from a Beatles album, and has a hard place fitting into the mythological voyage of the Beatles' career. For starters, though it was recorded chronologically before Abbey Road, it was released after that album, in 1970. Most of the recording sessions for this album were at the beginning of 1969. Going off the back-to-basics approach of much of the White Album (and as part of a trend in popular music spearheaded by Dylan's John Wesley Harding album), the Beatles wanted to record Let It Be (at this point, the LP was titled Get Back) as close as possible to being a live performance. Their rule was no overdubs or studio effects, to try to reproduce the way they used to make albums at the Abbey Road studios during the early days. As a result, much of the album is unpolished, full of studio chatter and sloppiness. I can see their desire to do this, and indeed much of the album is charming in its rustic simplicity, but coming after the majesty of Abbey Road, Let It Be feels like idyllic pastoral poetry compared to Shakespearean sonnets. While the White Album's songs rose above their simple soundscapes, much of Let It Be's tunes feel like they are unrehearsed jam sessions instead of being great songs.

Let It Be reminds me almost of the solo careers of the Beatles. George, Paul, and John all went the lo-fi route after the Panavision perfection of their Beatles' records. There is a ramshackle charm to many of their solo releases, and that is reflected in songs on here like "Two of Us" and "I've Got a Feeling." "One After 909" is their attempt to recreate classic rock & roll in the style of Chuck Berry or their own early days, and it succeeds admirably. "For You Blue" is even better. Featuring the slide guitar of John, it is George's attempt to ape the Chicago blues, and while it doesn't sound convincing at all, it's a lot of fun. "Get Back" perfectly represents throwaway fun with its pointless lyrics and jaunty keyboard solo (courtesy of Billy Preston, who was the first artist to be listed as a guest on a Beatles single).

But charming songs a great Beatles album do not make. Paul rises to the occasion amidst the squabbling of the band to deliver the one stone classic on here: "Let It Be." The album version is even better than the single, and George's solo fits in a lot more melodically with the tune and has a sense of progression that really nails you. "Let It Be" is simply gorgeous.

One of the biggest reasons for the Let It Be controversy among fans is that it is the only Beatles album to not have George Martin credited as a producer. To me, George Martin is a member of the Beatles. More than anyone else, he deserves the title of the Fifth Beatle. Anyone who disagrees is a fool. His contributions to the sound of the Beatles were just as important as the members of the band. Because the band was going for a lo-fi approach when they recorded the album, they did not use him. Unsatisfied with Glyn Johns's two mixes, the group went to Phil Spector to produce the master cut. He drenched several songs, among them "Across the Universe" and "The Long and Winding Road," in choruses and strings, breaking the no-overdubs rule. This gives the album an inconsistent sound. The studio chatter and general looseness of "For You Blue" comes right after the syrupy "The Long and Winding Road." I feel that this inconsistency in tone robs the album of any sense of unity. Although I do feel that "Across the Universe"'s Phil Spector cut is superior to the naked one that was released as a single, both it and especially "The Long and Winding Road" verge on the brink of being too sugary with the string arrangements, occasionally crossing over, but the quality of both songs manages to shine through regardless. Phil Spector is one of the greatest producers of all time, but his jarring productions were simply not suited for the Beatles.

I think this album is a unique look at the Beatles having fun and working in the studio, doing what they did best--making music. But it lacks the polish and the precision of their finest records. It serves as the soundtrack to the documentary of the same title, which was a behind-the-scenes look at how they made music in the studio. But I think ultimately we don't want to see the process, warts and all. We want to listen to their music. Not half-assed jams, but real fucking Beatles songs. Ultimately I don't need to know anything about the artist other than their art. This isn't to say that I dislike the album--I don't. But it has always been somewhat of a let-down that this was their final released album. As I said earlier, because Abbey Road was recorded afterward, I think it helps to look at that as the Beatles last LP. In any case, this is an album worth checking out, because it has its own unique charm among the Beatles records, and because there are some great moments tucked away amongst the mess (John and Paul singing two different melodies on top of each other in "I've Got a Feeling," George proclaiming that John can play the blues better than Elmore James on "For You Blue," etc.).

--Edward

Morons Unite! #2

Well, that part was easy. Looks like I've got a long night grave-digging ahead of me.

The Beatles, Album by Album--Abbey Road

Although released as their penultimate LP, Abbey Road actually consists of the final recordings the Beatles ever made together, and as such it should be viewed as their swan song and final record. Because they scrapped George Martin on Let It Be, and were dissatisfied with the initial results of that album, they put it on the shelf, recorded and released Abbey Road, and then hooked up with Phil Spector (a controversial choice, to say the least) to release Let It Be as their final LP in 1970. That's a good album, though inconsistent. But because of it lacks George Martin, it almost doesn't feel like a real Beatles album. But more on that when I write about Let It Be next.

This certainly does feel like a Beatles album. The quintessential Beatles album, perhaps. Everyone pulls out all the stops on this, since they knew it would be their final recording. Although they had been having a tremendous amount of personal friction for their past few albums, highlighted by Yoko Ono hanging around in the studio, much to the dismay of others, and John and George complaining about Paul's inheritance of the leadership mantle and perfectionism, the group came together on Abbey Road beautifully. Out of all the Beatles' albums, this is the most perfect one. In fact, you could make a strong case that it is the most perfect pop record of all time. Abandoning the metaphysical questioning of the group's adolescence in Revolver and its burgeoning adulthood in the stylistic scope of the White Album, the group finds its maturity in the musical perfection and simplicity of Abbey Road. When I think of the Beatles, I think of Mozart, because they could find the perfect turn of musical phrase, the perfect transitions from one section to another--that perfect melody. Not one note is out of place. No one else had their grasp of musical perfection, something I equate with Wolfgang. Bob Dylan to me was always the Beethoven of pop. His music dug deeper, although lacking that clean perfection of the Beatles/Mozart. It's honestly difficult for me to choose between the two worlds, and I'm not sure if I could. But I have yet to find anyone the equal of these two.

Structurally this album is perfect as well. Everything fits into its place, and the whole would be impacted for the worse if one note was moved or omitted. Each track on the first side represents its own musical world in a unique way among Beatles albums Not only are the songs different styles--they are different landscapes altogether. Though I'm not the biggest fan of the opening "Come Together," it's hard to deny its primal swamp-groove or the psychotic lyrics that are equal parts Chuck Berry and civil rights movement. Paul's bass pops on this track, like it does on the whole album. His bass-playing is at its peak on Abbey. "Something" is an impossibly gorgeous ballad by George--what Frank Sinatra has called the greatest love song of all time--and yet that unique ambivalence towards sexual love that defines George (especially his early love songs) pops up even on his sweetest ballad: "You're asking me will my love grow?/I don't know, I don't know." George always seemed to be shrugging aside romantic love in favor of communion with a higher spiritual love. "Oh! Darling" has Paul trying his hand at a classic soul song and succeeding admirably. It has the simplicity, the intensity, and the single-mindedness that makes soul songs so great. Nothing in the world is greater than soul music at showing the power of love to make one obsessed (I'm thinking "When a Man Loves a Woman" here), just like nothing in the world shows the power of love to break one's heart and spirit like country music does. Paul absolutely nails the vocals on this. "Octopus's Garden" is the Beatles' best children's song, with beautiful ringing guitars and pseudo-comic backing vocals that just work.

"I Want You (She's So Heavy)" is one of the finest songs by the Beatles, period. It is alternatively jazzy, sexual, haunting, hypnotic, and absolutely overpowering. Paul provides a seductive bassline over-top of John's magnetic, sexual pleas. George (I'm assuming) provides a great guitar solo in the jazzy sections, which intermingle with and ultimately fail to hold off the ringing guitar arpeggios of doom. The ending is the most visceral moment I know of in the entire Beatles canon, and perhaps in all of rock music. Listening to that on headphones with the music cranked up never fails to give me goosebumps. It must be heard to be believed. And the transition from that into "Here Comes the Sun" really showcases why the Beatles are the best rock band there is. No one--and I do mean no one--could do those two songs. George delivers another beautiful classic. The key change in the middle from minor to major never fails to make me happy. It would take a soulless person to not crack a smile there. "Because," despite talking about Earth's beauty and the connection of all life, has an otherworldly quality to it. The 9-part vocal harmonies are the most sublime moments of the album. This showcases a real sense of psychedelia. Not in a getting-high, rebelling against authorities kind of way. But in the true meaning of the word, which is an altered state of mind. The connection to the world and all of its inhabitants doesn't feel cheap, but earned in the beauty and otherness of the music.

The second side of the record consists mostly of a medley of various fragments of songs that the Beatles had been working on. With Paul's guidance and George Martin's superb production that makes this the best-sounding of all Beatles records, the medley idea somehow works and creates an inspiring, beautiful end to the Beatles' career. "Sun King" starts off side 2 with a resigned, melancholy beauty. John's song gives a sense of finality and resignation to the fate of the universe, whatever that may be. Of course, John was a notoriously moody person, and this sense of resigned beauty would sometimes be contradicted in his first solo album, Plastic Ono Band, but I think the same sound is in the ending of the climactic song of that album, "God," which, more than anything else I know of, gives a sense of closure to the Beatles, although in a very sad way. David Bowie and the other glam rockers seem to have borrowed their entire careers from "Polythene Pam" and its raw, simplistic energy. The album really starts rounding itself out with the transition from the suitably dreamy "Golden Slumbers" to the choral power of "Carry That Weight," which borrows themes from Paul's mini-suite "You Never Give Me Your Money" at the end of side 1. Effortless segueways mark much of Abbey Road, but these final ones really help give a sense of closure to the Beatles catalogue. This rousing ending climaxes in the dueling guitar solos of George, John, and Paul in "The End." Just as John's final word on the Beatles is the resigned, melancholy ending of "God," Paul's is his final lines in "The End": "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." It's really hard to put it better than that. Those lines sum up the promise of the Beatles, of the 1960's, and of an entire generation. Whether that promise lives on is entirely up to the listener. John gives his answer in "God," but I think Paul would have a totally different answer. And like I said much earlier in these commentaries, Paul and John are two heads of the same coin, of the human condition. Neither one is right or wrong, but both are essential and beautiful in their own way. But I think it's fair to say by this point in their career, the Beatles were Paul's baby, and the other members' dissatisfaction with his increasingly strong role in the group, among other things, led to their destruction. The Beatles was a beautiful dream that could never last. Like the greatest poetry, the Beatles were ephemeral.

--Edward

The Beatles, Album by Album--Yellow Submarine

Yellow Submarine is not really an official Beatles album, and probably shouldn't be judged as such, but nevertheless is part of their recorded output, so I shall discuss it briefly here. Released as the soundtrack companion to their children's movie of the same title, it contains only four new Beatles songs, thrown together with two of their previous hits and several George Martin-penned orchestra pieces. The first half are the Beatles numbers and the second half are the orchestral pieces. Because of the inconsistency of the Beatles numbers, I think I actually might prefer producer George Martin's half on this record (probably not if I count the Beatles repeats from previous albums on here--"Yellow Submarine" and "All You Need is Love"--but in terms of the new material).

The record opens with the Beatles theme for the movie--"Yellow Submarine" (George Martin's "Pepperland" theme is in fact better). We've already heard this, and believe me, nothing has changed from your childhood memory of it. Next is George's rambling, strange "Only a Northern Song," which sounds like a Sgt. Pepper outtake, and indeed most of these songs were basically unused songs from the Beatles psychedelic era. Now that they had grown out of that period with the magnificent White Album, the meandering lyrics and self-conscious musical experimentation of that period seem almost childish, and indeed probably do serve as a good soundtrack for a trippy kid's movie. I haven't seen the movie since band class in middle school, so I really have no memory how these songs worked in the movie. All I know is the song is pretty much a musical mess, full of xylophones, horns, and all kinds of randomness. "All Together Now" is next, and is a fun enough singalong tune, but it doesn't really offer much more. Still, this is a pretty good example of a fun kids song.

"Hey Bulldog" is the only real classic of the new Beatles songs. Just a fucking rocking song with a great "Lady Madonna"-like groove that works better with this song, because of the nastiness and aggression of John's lyrics and singing. I always think he says "You can't talk to me" in those great refrains, even though he sings "You can talk to me," just because he seems to sing the song with such aggression that it seems impossible that he's actually lending a hand to the person he's singing to. Great mix of both piano and guitar in it, which is seldom seen in Beatles (or any rock songs) music, and the bassline is rockin'.

"It's All Too Much" is another rambling George song. It's more of an acid rock song instead of the straight psychedelia of "Only a Northern Song," but I can't say I'm really a fan. At least it has a bit more of a melody than "Northern Song." "All You Need is Love" closes out the Beatles side, and it's as good as ever, but you already know that, don't you?

I was pleasantly surprised by George Martin's original soundtrack music for the movie. The stately "Pepperland" theme reminds me of the exquisite music of Super Mario Galaxy, which I strongly advise everyone reading this (all millions of you!) to check out. The orchestration is beautiful throughout this side. I love the way the main theme morphs from its courtly initial appearance into a lilting, beautiful melody in "Sea of Time" into the mournful dirge that we hear in some of the later tracks ("March of the Meanies" or "Pepperland Laid Waste," for instance). "Sea of Time"'s intro uses Indian instrumentation to strong effect before transferring gracefully into the traditional symphonic orchestration that George Martin seems so adept at (as I've always heard, he was classically-trained...what a great phase that is--I fucking wish I was classically-trained). "Sea of Monsters" is another one of my favorites, with some trippy wah-pedal guitar mixed with oboes in the beginning, plus the appearance of a cameo by J.S. Bach somewhere in the middle. I really love this stuff!

Anyways, worth a listen for Martin's orchestral stuff (give it a chance), and "Hey Bulldog," which really is a cool song.

--Edward

The Beatles, Album by Album--The White Album

And what we have here is perhaps my single favorite Beatles album. Along with A Hard Day's Night, Revolver, and Abbey Road, it is an album I never get tired of. While I've heard others complain that it's too bloated and that the fat could be excised to make it one disc instead of two, that defeats the purpose of The White Album for me. It is memorable because it's the first encyclopedic rock album. While Bob Dylan's Blonde on Blonde was rock's first double-album (and perhaps the finer record of the two), it has a unified feel. Forerunner to such albums as the Clash's Sandinista!, Prince's Sign o' the Times, and Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life, The White Album (properly titled, simply, The Beatles) is brilliant in the sense that it tries to tackle everything, and while every piece of art with such a goal is going to fail, they often fail in the most spectacular of ways. Like Moby-Dick or Ulysses, The White Album drags at times (I'm looking at you, disc two), but the whole work is greater than the sum of its parts, and what we admire is the ambition itself, and with repeated listens, we wouldn't want the journey to be any shorter.

Famously, the Beatles wrote a large number of these songs while they were practicing yoga and meditation in India. The seclusion and focus on craft shows, as the songwriting has returned to its peak after the muddiness of their psychedelic era. It is nice to see them branch out as wide as they can, instead of being limited to psychedelic-sounding songs. There is a lot of ground covered in the 30 tracks here. But, aside from the stylistic variety of this album, the Beatles manage to shine through in every single track. They were always about the small details that elevated their music above their pop contemporaries, and this album is perhaps the finest showcase of that they put on record. It's impossible to name them all, but here is a list of some of the little things I absolutely love on this record:

-The gradual introduction of instruments and when that bass groove kicks in during "Dear Prudence."
-The piano fills at the end of "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da."
-The flamenco guitar intro of "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill."
-Eric Clapton's guitar solos in "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." They elevate an amazing song into something divine, and might be the finest solos of his career. So melodic.
-Lennon's high note at the end of "Happiness is a Warm Gun." This is probably my favorite Beatles moment outside of the vocal climax right before the coda begins in "Hey Jude."
-The harpsichord solo in "Piggies."
-Paul's wordless ab-libbing in "Rocky Raccoon." Basically I love any time he does this, but you already know that.
-Lennon's lyrics in "Yer Blues." He strips the blues to their suicidal essence (and you know I love the Dylan reference).
-The off-kilter piano intro to the loopy and, indeed, sexy "Sexy Sadie."
-The 1930's instrumentation in "Honey Pie."
-The jazz-lounge sound of the electric organ in "Savoy Truffle."

This also has my favorite Beatles sequence on record: from "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill" to "I'm So Tired." It is the equivalent of the sequence from "Visions of Johanna" to "Stuck Inside of Memphis with the Mobile Blues Again" on Blonde on Blonde. We take a journey through the absurd, slightly malevolent whimsy of John's children's song "Bungalow Bill" (weren't all of his children's songs somewhat malevolent? At least most of them....) to the power and gravitas of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and "Happiness is a Warm Gun," to "Martha My Dear" and "I'm Only Tired," which both showcase perfectly their creators' personalities (Paul and John, respectively). But I'm sure everyone has a different favorite sequence on here. That is part of the fun of this record. It has something for everyone.

To me, this record sounds like the Beatles rediscovering the joy of music itself, instead of the over-intellectualizing of it. Their experimentation with abstraction and the intellectual power of music to me hit its peak in the diamond-like clarity of Revolver, and then digressed into the above-mentioned muddiness of the 1967 psychedelic period. Here the Beatles rediscover the adrenaline rush of the sound of music itself, of playing together as a group. They have a bluesier, more unified instrumental sound on this album, discarding the excesses of Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour, in the process transforming themselves into the best rock band in the world. Tracks like "Glass Onion," "I'm So Tired," and "Sexy Sadie" all have a powerful groove to them that was lacking from the previous albums. And it's hard to talk about their power as a rock band without mentioning "Helter Skelter," which became the heaviest song in the world on top of Ringo's crashing cymbals and the relentless buzz-saw guitar in the background. Beating out contemporaries such as Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, the Who, and Cream, the Beatles proved they could be the heaviest band in the world before Black Sabbath if they so chose to. But of course, they had other things on their mind. Paul details the chaos, confusion, and ultimately the collapse of society in the lyrics--the total opposite of songs like "All You Need is Love."

On the flip-side, this album is also chock-full of acoustic ballads, showing the influence of their genesis in studio-free India. "Dear Prudence," "Blackbird," and "Mother Nature's Son" are all beautiful, among others. While I think "I Will" is too much of a precursor of Paul's later sappy ballads as a solo artist, because it's missing the melodic sophistication of a song like "Here, There and Everywhere," it is nonetheless a pretty song in its own right.

Harrison finally proves himself with a stone-cold classic in "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." His yearning vocals on this are absolutely beautiful. Supposedly he came up with this song by randomly flipping through a book (the Tao Te Ching?) and landing upon the phrase "gently weeps." His other songs on here ("Piggies," "Long, Long, Long," and "Savoy Truffle") are all interesting in their own way (and radically different), but none come close to the majesty of what is easily a top ten Beatles song (along with "Happiness is a Warm Gun" from this album). Ringo even contributes his only completely self-penned number with "Don't Pass Me By," which isn't half-bad.

Finally we are left with "Revolution 9," a track many of us long to wish away. But the fact remains that it's there and we need to confront it. Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds of audio clips and various studio effects form a sonic collage that remains impossible to completely unravel, as I'm sure was the intent. Obviously influenced by Yoko Ono's avant-garde sound experiments, John created an incredibly dense and puzzling piece that has different meanings for every person who listens to it (and even attempts to brood on it, which I'm sure most don't). At first to me it represented either a day in the life of a person (a la Ulysses or the Beatles' very own "A Day in the Life") or a portrait of one person's entire life, but in recent listens (and based upon the title) I have decided that it's far more of a social than a personal piece. Other than the repetition of the number nine throughout, the one thing that remains constant is the sound of people, lots of people. Just as "Revolution" (and its brother on this album, "Revolution 1") deals with the complexities of revolution and social change, the mournful tone and the sounds of violence in "Revolution 9" seem to both foreshadow revolution and also prophesize that ultimately nothing will ever change. Still, this kind of thing has no place on a Beatles record. Let's be honest.

The emergence at the end of the 1960s of the Beatles sounding like a rock group that could tackle anything, with both a sense of humor and an incredible earnestness, shows the creative peak of a group that you can listen to grow up through their musical career, through the progress of their studio albums. It is ironic that they hadn't sounded this unified as a musical group in years, considering that this is the album where the band began to experience an irrevocable personal rift. But that only goes to show that art and the personal lives of its creators are two completely different things.

--Edward

Screw You Guys, I'm Going Home

Morons Unite! #1

I'm fairly certain I turned off the oven. Yeah, of course I did. At least I usually do, so why not this time?

Frisbee, 1988, Records, Dreams, Guts.