For some reason I seem to have heard a lot of really good remixes lately. In my experience remixes can go either way: some are utterly pointless and sound terrible, some just work really well.
The following fall into the latter category. Well I think so anyway. (Note for pedants: I believe some of these may be better described, by people who care about such things, as "mash-ups".)
"Afrobeatles" The Fab Four meet Fela Kuti (ticks two big boxes for me). Some of these work better than others. I think "Come Together" is probably the pick.
And then these two contrast such radically different styles in the originals that they flirt dangerously near to being horrible car crashes. I think they just about work though. See what you think.
I'm going through one of my periodic Beatles binges at the moment. The Fab Four section of my CD collection runs only from Rubber Soul (1965) onwards so I thought I'd try brushing up on some of the earlier albums of the "Beatlemania" years.
What's brought this on is a British Library event I went to a couple of weeks ago to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the band (It was in 1960 that John, Paul, George, Stuart Sutcliffe and Pete Best made their first forays into Hamburg clubland). Regaling us with Beatles tales, playing choice tracks and fielding questions are Beatles luminaries Paul du Noyer (author of books on John Lennon and the music of his native Liverpool) and Philip Norman (definitive Beatles Lennon biographer and author of a hefty 864-page tome on Lennon).
Both speakers are at pains to play down the usual stereotypes of Lennon as "Angry Young Man" and McCartney as "Sensitive Soul". Two tracks from the "White" album--Julia and Helter Skelter are played as cases in point. Lennon's early family background is well documented elsewhere and this song for his mother, who died in a car accident when he was seventeen, is full of poetic beauty ("When I cannot sing my heart I can only speak my mind") at odds with the cynical, sometimes spiteful, character who would often appear in interviews.
Similarly, McCartney--famous balladeer of Yesterday,Michelle and The Long and Winding Road--wrote Helter Skelter after reading an interview with Pete Townshend describing their recent single, I Can See for Miles, as the "loudest, rawest, dirtiest song" the Who had ever recorded. Not wanting to be pigeon-holed as a writer of slow songs, he set about trying to write something just as "loud, raw and dirty" for the Beatles. The song certainly provoked a reaction: its supposed prophecy of an apocalyptic war infamously led to it being appropriated by Charles Manson. It has even been hailed in some quarters as an important stage in the development of heavy metal music.
One of the tracks Du Noyer chooses to play is a reminder that, even among the uptempo sing-a-long hits of the first few albums, there are quieter, more reflective songs which hint at Lennon and McCartney's developing genius for songwriting. Clocking in at a sublimely understated 1 minute 57 seconds, I'll Follow the Sun--from the 1964 "Beatles For Sale" album--is a fantastically impressive early example of McCartney's nack for a cleverly crafted melody:
There's no disputing that John and Paul were the creative genuises of the band but I'm struck by the extent to which du Noyer and Norman seem willing to play down the roles of George and Ringo: Norman concedes that Harrison wrote some great songs but "only while he was in the Beatles". I wonder about the extent to which this is true: by the time the Beatles split he had written three whole albums' worth of his own compositions which had hitherto failed to see the light of day. Maybe not many of these were as good as the best of the Beatles. Surely his guitar riffs are worth a mention in dispatches though--I Feel Fine?Paperback Writer?
Similarly, when an audience member brings up Lennon's typically acerbic comment that Starr "wasn't even the best drummer in the Beatles", du Noyer and Norman concede only that Ringo's easy-going personality was a calming influence on the more volatile other band members. They don't make any case for his drumming technique. Aren't there some tracks--particularly in the later years--(Come Together,A Day in the Life) which show Lennon's remark up for the cheap jibe it was?
This was the second Beatles event I've been to at the British Library and like the first it was an entertaining and thought-provoking evening. It's just good to be reminded again what superb songwriters and great musicians the Beatles were.
In a futile attempt to reduce their career to a handful of highlights, may I in conclusion offer the following "top five" Beatles moments:
1. The opening line of Girl, proof that you don't need an intro. Just get on and say what you've got to say.
2. The fugue-like harpsichord solo in In My Life played by George Martin (Is there really anyone else worthy of the official "Fifth Beatle" title?)
3. The final five chords of Please Please Me, the only possible way to end the song.
4. The whole of She's Leaving Home. I once foisted this song on a class of unsuspecting French sixth-formers to get me through an English conversation class. They seemed to enjoy it.
Lately I've been flicking through a book called "The Beatles' London". It actually gives more information than anyone could humanly want about every location in the capital where the Fab Four played, recorded, were interviewed, stayed, lived, worked, went out to eat or listen to music...
In an attempt to come to terms with the subject, I went along this morning to London Walks' "Magical Mystery Tour" which, as I was hoping, presents some of this information in a more digestible form, taking in as it does a handful of the major venues in a leisurely two-hour stroll. I've done these walks before and always find them good value at £7 a pop. I do tend to find myself heavily outnumbered by foreign tourists though.
Almost all of the stories which the guide told were ones I'd heard before but it was nice to be reminded of them. I hadn't realised though that I'd walked past Trident Studios many times without knowing it and that it was here that not only the Beatles laid down tracks like "Hey Jude", "Dear Prudence" and "Martha My Dear", but also that many early Bowie and Elton John singles and "Walk on the Wild Side" (amongst others) were all recorded.
Nor did I realise exactly where that 1969 roof-top performance happened. In June 1968, the Beatles commandeered number 3 Savile Row as Apple headquarters and it became a social centre for friends, fans and fellow celebrities as much as a set of offices for serious business matters. Frequently riotous goings-on over the following four years--chronicled in a book by "house hippy" Richard DiLello--did little to endear the band to their straight-laced pin-striped-suited neighbours and they reached a head on 30th January 1969 when the band spontaneously decided to go up to the roof to play songs from what became their Let It Be album (see below). The local constabulary--still stationed less than 500 yards up the street--pulled the plug twenty minutes into the show.
No tour of London Beatles locations would be complete etc etc... and, sure enough, to end the tour we hopped on the Jubilee Line to the Abbey Road studios. The Beatles made the vast majority of their recordings here so there's no doubt that this is the location which had the greatest influence on the band's music. There's not much to see from the outside though, apart from a wall where fans are encouraged to scrawl ill-conceived tributes, a blue plaque reminding everyone that one Edward Elgar was laying down some wicked tracks at Abbey Road a cool thirty-three years before the Beatles jumped on the bandwagon...oh and there's "that" zebra crossing.
40th Anniversary of the Beatles' "White Album" @ British Library, 27th May
So...more 1968-related cultural reassessment a.k.a. nostalgia, this time regarding "The Beatles", a.k.a. the "White Album", thanks to artist Richard Hamilton whose "iconic sleeve design" surely represents one of his less stressful days at work.
Though for me "Rubber Soul" pips it to the post as greatest Beatles LP, the "White Album" must have been the most stylistically diverse pop record of its time: consider the 1920s-Charleston-esque "Honey Pie", the Beach Boys-like rocker "Back In The USSR", the syrupy orchestral ballad "Good Night", the avant-garde "Revolution #9", the acoustic lullaby "Blackbird", the Wild West saloon bar honky-tonk-tastic "Rocky Raccoon", and so on and so on.
David Quantick, typically entertaining, gave us the benefit of the trainspotter approach he cultivated while writing his book "Revolution: The Making Of The Beatles' White Album" then various members of the audience gave personal reminiscences of particular tracks. The most entertaining of these was one man's memories of a teenage car journey with an old aunt at the wheel. Having decided on a tape of the "White Album" as suitably cool accompaniment for the homeward journey, he settled back to listen--with said aunt--forgetting about the imminent arrival of "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?" and sinking lower and lower into his seat with embarrasment as Macca hammered home that excrutiating title line...
