In My Ears and In My Eyes (Part 1), by Elayne Riggs
Last week we were casting about, as usual, for something interesting to watch in the 100-200 channel range of our cable system. The local PBS stations were hip-deep in pledge drives, which meant 20-minute breaks between segments of shows that would otherwise have been enjoyable but which we’d mostly seen anyway by this point. (Did anyone else think it just a tad disconcerting that WLIW, the Long Island-based PBS station, could afford to send its two high muckety-mucks out to broadcast from Innsbruck during the pledge breaks for Visions of Austria, but made sure to keep reminding us that Viewers Like You made all that possible? Oh great, I should give to their station to sponsor their executives’ vacations?)
The few writers’ strike-delayed shows that we usually watch on the networks haven’t begun running new episodes, and in their place were the same tired crop of cringeworthy reality shows. Keith Olbermann and MSNBC are turning into FOX-lite (but that’s another column). And how many times can I watch the Ghana episode of Tony Bourdain’s No Reservations? (Not including subconscious reruns during REM sleep, approximately ten, but not consecutively; give me a break, Travel Channel!)
So it was that we found our way up the dial to a delightful programme all about amber hosted by "Dickie-Love’s" brother David Attenborough — and now little impressionable ol’ me suddenly wants some new amber earrings — which we then followed up with a Biography Channel episode on The Beatles’ Wives, which itself preceded two recent Paul McCartney concerts, one from 2005 and the other from 2007, on that same channel, both horribly chopped from the originals. And suddenly there I was, fascinated all over again.
Not that I’ve ever stopped. I can’t remember when I became a full-fledged Beatlemaniac. I recall seeing their last appearance on Ed Sullivan, where they performed "Let It Be," thinking, "wow, I wonder why they’re breaking up, they seem like a really good band." Seriously. And my folks and I watched Ed Sullivan every Sunday. But I don’t remember any Beatle-related interest until 1970, when I started getting into music in general, buying albums with my allowance (first purchase: Carole King’s Tapestry, which I still own). Somewhere along the way I picked up an old Beatles tray from a neighbor’s trash, ’cause I thought the faces were cute and the tray was usable. Later on I was told it was worth a hundred bucks easy, but a cursory glance at eBay shows me those folks were greatly exaggerating. That people are letting this go for as low as $15 including shipping tells me I was right to continue using it for its intended purpose!
But I didn’t get into the Beatles music for its ancillary attractions. I don’t think I ever had any Beatles posters on my walls (which were pretty much all taken up with David Cassidy photos). But in college I started listening, really listening to their music. And I fell, hard.
As with anything else, when I develop an obsession I play a mean game of catch-up. Whilst everyone else was stocking up on Elvis Costello and Supertramp and Graham Parker, I was also furiously purchasing 10-15 year old northern songs from lads from Liverpool. I had all the essential albums within weeks (thank goodness for cheap used record stores in college towns!), then moved on to various solo efforts. I guess my first Beatle crush was probably on Paul, which made sense coming from my bubblegum-pop youth. Then when my worldview hippified a bit more I turned on to George, who seemed so enlightened and all-knowing. I finally settled on John, the art student and writer, whom I always considered the genius of the group. (Never took to Ringo, crush-wise; sorry, Ringo fans!)
The way Paul McCartney can put together a brand-new pop song that sounds instantly familiar, his intricacies of warm melody and willingness to push boundaries, his intense knowledge of his craft never cease to amaze me. Lennon was credited with saying, when asked if Ringo was the best drummer in rock and roll, that he wasn’t even the best drummer in the Beatles, a direct reference to McCartney’s talent in that area. Paul lived one of the world’s great love stories, married for 30 years to a woman who only got the immense credit she deserved for all her own accomplishments toward the end of her life. Fellow billionaire Steve Jobs bows at his altar; I understand he bought God last week. Not saying that’s something admirable in and of itself, but it always seemed to me he earned it. And no matter what weird nastiness occurred with wifey #2 (who really did a number on his physical health, if you compare the ’05 and ’07 concerts), I’m inclined to believe his version of events as, for all his wealth and worldly accomplishments, he still seems pretty rooted in his no-nonsense Liverpudlian working-class background.
Ringo Starr, contrary to his goofy persona during the Beatles years, seems to be respected by everyone. His All-Starr band lineups continue to be impressive and eminently listenable. He’s been married to a former Bond Girl for a quarter of a century now, and according to the Bio special he was at his ex-wife’s side when she passed away from leukemia. I like that other people besides me can still be friendly with their exes! He also appears to have come out of the Beatles experience the least affected by it.
George Harrison was always, for me, a contradiction wrapped in an enigma with mango chutney on the side. I adored his sense of humor and ability to participate in self-mockery (see The Rutles and other collaborations with Idle & co.), as well as the seriousness with which he applied himself. He was terrific at making lemons from lemonade, as the "My Sweet Lord"/"He’s So Fine" controversy (and c’mon, the riff was a clear ripoff, he was too knowledgeable about music for it not to be) led to "This Song" and its amusing video. Dang, I loved his videos. "Crackerbox Palace" was probably my favorite, but I also adored "This Is Love" and "Got My Mind Set on You". He was a Willbury of the finest order. His constant embrace of Indian philosophy could get a bit draggy — I never thought he quite practiced the simplicity and non-materialism he preached — and he was reportedly a randy scouse git in his misspent youth, but he seemed to get it together a bit more in his second marriage. And I loved his songs. He was so damned overshadowed by the best writing team in rock and roll history, but he more than held his own, and really blossomed afterwards. And of course he practically invented large-scale benefit concerts, back when Sir Bob Geldof was still a schoolboy.
John Lennon. My gosh, just saying his name evokes all sorts of might-have-beens, so much anger even after all these years that his singular talent was taken from us so suddenly and viciously. His assassination affected me more than those of JFK, MLK, Bobby Kennedy — his I remember. I recall going to bed the evening I’d heard he was shot, praying for the best, then suddenly waking up around 11 PM knowing he was gone. I was devastated. I felt like I’d lost a personal friend whose work spoke to me on a subconscious level I couldn’t even access.
I will never stop believing that Lennon’s murder and Reagan’s accession were the two major events whose confluence precipitated the downward societal and economic spiral in which our country’s still mired. It’s like we collectively stopped believing a better world was possible and decided to give in to the cynics and greedheads and bad guys, and except for a few blips here and there that hasn’t changed. Yes, Obama is impressive. No, Obama is nowhere near progressive, or even liberal. The political pendulum swung so far to the right thanks to the Reagan years that centrists are considered ultra-leftists now. John Lennon was an ultra-leftist. His sensibilities about women went from "Run For Your Life" to "Woman is the Nigger of the World" in a remarkably short time. Yes, in major part thanks to Yoko (I sometimes wonder if the word "soulmate" was invented for their relationship), but I believe he was already tending in that direction. His facility with language and wordplay was delightful, and I liked his art. He was one of those people who would have been successful at any number of things, and the world is lucky he chose music and activism. He was able to "write a swimming pool" and at the same time have it be so subversive that even today (especially today, when we’ve regressed so much!) many people who sing his songs like the standards they’ve become have no idea what they’re singing. Imagine no religion? No possessions? No countries? That’s so revolutionary it’s unthinkable. And he thought it, and wrote it, and made it a hit.
Four remarkable individuals, and collectively they were even better. But I have to save something for Part 2. Hey, with luck I could even turn this into an Anthology!
Elayne Riggs still follows the Beatles’ music and legacy nearly daily, can be found blogging about all sorts of things here, and would love to be adopted by Paul McCartney, although she’s old enough to be maybe his niece at best.
BBC Amercia has run a documetary that I believe was called something like 'Secrets of the Beatles' or 'Secret Lives of the Beatles' that I've caught twice recently while channel surfing.It was quite good.
Argh, torture! We're like the only Cablevision system around that doesn't get BBC America… *sigh*
That "secret life" special was just on last weekend. It was whole show about their exposure to drugs and sex while in Hamburg, and how it affected their whole career. A fine example of how much you can say about the Beatles using only innuendo, hangers-on they haven't spoken to in decades and obscure people from their early career. And if you don't have permission to use their music or even (IIRC) their likenesses.I don't think there will ever be a band that so affected people like the Beatles. You could possibly make the case for Elvis, or Nirvana, but the fab four appealed to everyone. They are royalty, and will ever be treated as such. Their names will always sell books, and their songs always sell records, whatever form records eventually come in."Looks like I'll have to buy the White Album again". –Agent Kay, Men In Black"Imagine no religion? No possessions? No countries? That's so revolutionary it's unthinkable. And he thought it, and wrote it, and made it a hit."I recall an episode of WKRP in Cincinatti where Richard Paul (Carter Country) played a Jerry Fallwell-like character who was demanding the ability to choose what was "acceptable" music to play on the station. Mr. Carlson hands him the lyrics to "Imagine", the censor-guy reads tham and says he couldn't see how he'd allow this to air. Carlson tells him to get to steppin'. Great scene.
Elayne, Like you I was a second-generation fan. My aunt gave me her copies of Meet the Beatles and Hard Day's Night, but it was in seventh or eighth grade (1977 or so), when I became a full-fledged Beatlemaniac, hunting down their albums for 4.99 at the Commack Flea Market or Korvette's. The first album by a Beatle I remember buying 'new' was Wings' Back to the Egg. And I remember being upset when I heard John was shot. While I like all kinds of music (except rap and country), the Beatles are always No. 1. Matter of fact, in less than two weeks, The Fest for Beatle Fans is back in NJ, and I'm going. :)
Ah yes, Beatlefest. Thanks Neil, you reminded me I wanted to mention that in next week's column.
Incidentally, "Rutlemania" is in LA through Friday March 21, and then moving to NYC March 26-29 at the Blender Theatre (I don't get a cut for the plug!)–every Beatle fan I know will love it. I always thought it ironic that George, who I consider to be one of the top ten songwriters in recent history, was in a band with #1 and #2…
Wow, great to see you here, Howard! As one of THE Python mavens, you're probably one of the best people to speak to Harrison's role in both the Beatles and the Rutles.
Growing up, I heard the Beatles music–together and solo–on the radio all the time, but I didn't become a Beatlemaniac until high school in the mid-1980s. I probably heard Paul McCartney's solo music before the others because I was always listening to my parents' copy of Band on the Run (which I've since appropriated as my own), so Paul was my favorite Beatle by default during my early childhood.As a teenager, I was drawn to John Lennon's work as I admired his activist and rebel persona and loved how he could be so raw in his rock music ("Instant Karma") as well as introspective in his ballads ("Imagine"). I soon acquried my parents' copy of The John Lennon Collection.Then in 1987, George Harrison released Cloud Nine, my first solo Beatle album purchase. The excitement that album generated, George's first in five years, with radio hits "I Got My Mind Set On You" becoming a #1 smash and "When We Was Fab" honoring the Beatles music, I felt as if I was a participant in my own wave of Beatlemania, via George's music. Of course 1987 also marked the 20th anniversary of Sgt. Pepper, and I fell in love with the entire album, particularly John's wordplay imagery and psychadelic soundscapes, but George's ethereal sitar meditation "Within You, Without You" entranced me from the very first time I heard it and became a highlight of the album for me. I remember wondering what it would be like to play such a beautiful instrument–and eighteen years later I found out. I have been studying sitar since 2005, and last October, I even performed "The Inner Light," "Norwegian Wood," and "Hey Jude" on stage. And as I purchased more Beatles albums, George's songs continued to stand out from John's and Paul's–as much as I love their songs–as breaths of fresh air. "If I Needed Someone," "Taxman," "Love You To," "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," "Here Comes the Sun," and "Something" were these unique and beautiful gems scattered amidst John and Paul's diamonds. And I think because there were so few of them during the Beatles made George's songs that much more special. So when I wasn't looking, George slipped into my subconcious and became my favorite Beatle.Ringo's happy-go-lucky persona shines through all his songs. I've seen him peform with his various All-Starrs three times now, and he is a wonderful showman.Ms. Riggs, thank you for this wonderful column, especially your thoughts on John's death coinciding with Reagan's Presidency. Strange days indeed…But I do have to wonder why you singled out George as being a "randy scouse git" (great Monkees song, BTW) above the others? All four of them had their infidelities. "Norwegian Wood" was essentially John confessing the fact, and I'm not sure he would have married Cynthia had she not been pregnant. His marriage to Yoko hit a snag when she kicked him out and gave him permission to sleep with May Pang, their personal assistant (that's quite the definition of "soulmate"). Jane Asher supposedly broke it off with Paul after she caught him with another woman one too many times, but unlike his bandmates I don't think he planned to settle down until his wandering eye did.
George Harrison was not the only Beatle to face plagiarism charges.This is from Wikipedia: "Come Together" was the subject of a lawsuit brought against Lennon by Chuck Berry's music publisher, Morris Levy, because one line in "Come Together" closely resembles a line of Berry's You Can't Catch Me: (i.e., The Beatles' "Here come ol' flattop, he come groovin' up slowly" vs. Berry's "Here come up flattop, he was groovin' up with me"). After settling out of court, Lennon promised to record other songs owned by Levy, all of which were released on Lennon's 1975 album Rock 'n' Roll. By the way, "Rock 'n' Roll" is still a pretty good album.