The Ronettes were a girl-group from the 1960s. Here is their song “Be My Baby,” produced by Phil Spector before he became a murderer.

This song exemplifies Spector’s “Wall of Sound,” in which he layered multiple instrumental tracks and vocals. It’s in mono, not stereo, so listening with headphones won’t make the sound quality better.

Usually I ease into the Christmas music every year, letting holiday songs pop up at random on the laptop in the days after Thanksgiving. Not this year—I jumped into the pool fully clothed, doing four solid hours of Christmas tunes on the radio the day after Thanksgiving, which felt like an awful lot awfully fast. But today’s December 1, so nobody can say it’s too early anymore.

There is, as usual, a variety of new holiday releases this year, although “new” is a relative term, as we’ll see in a moment. The most talked-about is Bob Dylan’s Christmas in the Heart. It’s been greeted with general head-scratching, and no wonder. In another lifetime, a Dylan Christmas album might have been sparely acoustic and as somber as a copse of bare trees, but Christmas in the Heart is neither. Most of the instrumental tracks are straight MOR that would fit the vocal stylings of everyone from Engelbert Humperdinck to Michael Bublé. Some of them include cheesy choral accompaniment. Dylan’s voice is no more than a croak. It’s an easy record to make fun of and/or hate, but I’m unwilling to do either one, and here’s why: Unlikely holiday albums succeed when the music fits the artist’s particular worldview—I’m thinking here of recent albums by Aimee Mann and Mary Chapin Carpenter—or when the music conforms to a particular artistic vision, like Willie Nelson’s classic Pretty Paper. Even though it might not seem like it, Dylan could be ticking both boxes—he’s past having to satisfy critics or explain himself, and Christmas in the Heart is an eloquent way of telling us so. Key track: “Must Be Santa,” which is utterly demented and completely fabulous.

So Dylan wins the award for Most Unlikely Artist to Do Christmas Tunes, but the first runner-up could be REO Speedwagon. Their Not So Silent Night is not going to impress anybody who’s not already a fan of REO, although it’s not always recognizable as REO since Kevin Cronin’s voice is shot. A cover of the Kingston Trio’s “White Snows of Winter” and a power-ballad version of “Angels We Have Heard on High” are decent, but the rest of it runs the gamut from unnecessary to awful. Unlike the Dylan album, it’s hard to discern REO’s point in making it, beyond a holiday cash-in.

Like ‘em or not, at least the Dylan and REO records are all new material. Many others require you to pay for stuff you may already own. Take for one example the Beach Boys’ Christmas Harmonies, which consists mostly of mono tracks from their 1964 Christmas album. It does include four additional tracks that can be considered rare, including the elusive 1974 recording “Child of Winter,” but it also includes the execrable “Santa’s Beard,” formerly the worst Christmas record in the world.

Neil Diamond’s A Cherry Cherry Christmas is largely recycled from Diamond’s early 90s Christmas albums. The title track is new, however, and awkwardly name-checks several Diamond tunes: “Wish you a very merry Cherry Cherry Christmas/And a Holly Holy holiday too/Underneath your tree may there always be/Sounds of harmony not a Song Sung Blue.” Diamond gains points for covering Adam Sandler’s “Chanukah Song,” but loses them again for changing Sandler’s “smoke your marijuana-kah” to “don’t smoke your marijuana-kah.” Michael McDonald’s up to the same thing. (Reissuing, not smoking.) This Christmas features four tracks from McD’s 2001 album but adds some new material as well. (For what it’s worth, Allmusic.com likes the new stuff.)

Straight reissues, no new material: Mannheim Steamroller is celebrating 25 years since their first Christmas album. In case you don’t already own their staggeringly popular holiday series (but how is that possible?), there’s a two-CD best of that covers the bases. And there’s a remastered version of A Christmas Gift for You, produced by Phil Spector and featuring the Crystals, the Ronettes, Darlene Love, and Bobb B. Soxx and the Blue Jeans. It’s the first issue in a series: All of Spector’s work produced for his Philles label is set to be remastered and reissued in both physical and downloadable form with replica artwork. Interesting fact about A Christmas Gift for You: It was originally released on November 22, 1963. The album didn’t become a hit during that first holiday season, perhaps because it landed in a season filled with grief.

Much More Merriment: At WNEW.com, I’ve started writing the history of some famous rock and pop Christmas songs. Last weekend it was Band Aid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas”; today it’s John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas (War Is Over).” (If you like ‘em, comment on ‘em.) At Popdose, Jason and Jeff are preparing to confront all things Christmas-musical with their annual Mellowmas series. The first installment is up today. Any Major Dude With Half a Heart goes old-school with the Christmas music;  AM, Then FM goes not quite so old.

“Angels We Have Heard on High”/REO Speedwagon (buy it here, cheap)

I’m pretty excited about Sunday Spin at Benetti’s Coffee Experience this weekend, as my father-in-law, Jim Gutwein, has chosen all the music.  Katy’s parents are in town for Thanksgiving, and I asked Jim to share some records before they leave.  (Most of the records are culled from his personal collection, and Jim is proud to gloat that all are original pressings thereof.)  He has decided to play Christmas music Sunday evening, so grab a cup of coffee or hot chocolate and wind down from the hectic holiday weekend, looking forward to the Christmas season.

1. Nat King Cole Trio – “The Christmas Song” (original 45 from 1946, not the version made popular in the the early 1960s)
2. Bing Crosby – excerpt of a radio broadcast from A Christmas Sing with Bing (1956)
3. Joan Baez – side 1 of Noel (1966)
4. The Ramsey Lewis Trio – Sound of Christmas (1961)
5. Tony Bennett – Snowfall: The Tony Bennett Christmas Album (1968)
6. The Miracles – side 2 of The Season for Miracles (1970)
7. The Temptations – side 1 of The Temptations Christmas Card (1970)
8. Various Artists – side 2 of A Christmas Gift for You (1963)
9. Charles Brown – side 1 of Charles Brown Sings Christmas Songs (1960)
10. James Brown – side 2 of James Brown Sings Christmas Songs (1966)

We’ll augment your own research on these record with handout Sunday evening.  See you there from 6:00-9:00.

Camera Obscura släppte för några dagar sedan The sweetest thing, som blir den andra singeln från senaste albumet My Maudlin career. Första singeln från det skotska bandets fjärde album, utgivet på 4AD, var French Navy. The sweetest thing är min personliga favorit från My Maudlin career, en av årets bästa skivor som fortsätter i den riktning Jari Hapalainen stakade ut på förra Let’s get out of this country, dvs storslagna produktioner i Phil Spectors anda. Singlarna och albumet finns att beställa från 4AD och samt Camera Obscuras sida.

4AD
Camera Obscura

Cover to Girl Groups, Girl Culture (Routledge, 2007); image courtesy of routledgemusic.com

For financial reasons, I was only able to swing one day of Fun Fun Fun Fest so I’m blogging while many in this fair city are catching some good music in Waterloo Park. Although, admittedly, if you’re gonna do one day of the festival, I think yesterday was the way to go. I got to check several bands I’ve never seen before off my list: No Age (who I’ve missed by a marrow margin at least three times), Jesus Lizard, Pharcyde, Les Savy Fav, and Death.

But if you have the scratch, please make sure everyone sees one of Mika Miko’s last shows ever on the black stage at 2:55. I might try to get down there later just to hear it from the other side of the fence.

Mika Miko’s exceptional presence on this year’s bill seems as good a place as any to remember that, as Melissa at GRCA astutely pointed out in her recent post, this year boasts a very dudecentric line-up. So I’ll review Jacqueline Warwick’s book Girl Groups, Girl Culture: Popular Music and Identity in the 1960s book in the hopes that at least one historically significant girl group or all-female band will reunite for next year’s FFFF like Death did this year. And like the Shangri-Las did at CBGB’s in 1977.

As much as I hate comparing women’s work so as to pit them in opposition, Warwick’s book is a tremendous example of how effective it can be to narrow the scope of the cultural moment being covered, something I wish Charlotte Greig would have considered when penning her book on girl groups. While Greig truncates the history of the girl group era in order to broaden the definition of what a girl group is, Warwick focuses primarily on this brief but important moment in history (roughly between 1958 and 1965), considering its ongoing influence as an epilogue.

By taking this approach, Warwick considers the girl group era and its participants from several different, often surprising, areas of inquiry. As a result, she proves the cultural signficance of a popular form dismissed by many as superficial, polished, and phony who instead tend to favor rock music’s supposed transcendent raw authenticity, and argues strongly that this binary construction is inherently gendered. Duh, and amen.

Warwick posits that one of the most important things about the girl group era was its insistence on putting girls and young women in the spotlight, introducing a complex, celebratoryn and at times contradictory performance of what the author calls “girlness”. Often, these ladies were working class, and of African American or mixed racial and ethnic heritage. They had few options for financial mobility and minimal career prospects being marriage, motherhood, clerical jobs, and day labor. Forming vocal groups together and cutting records gave them access to other opportuntities toward professional advancement and personal growth, expanding the idea of girlhood as an identity across race and class lines. 

Sometimes these groupings resulted in the cultivation of considerable, devoted fan bases that, in The Supremes and The Ronnettes’ cases, were comparable to Beatlemania. Some of those fans were even other male-only rock bands, like The Beach Boys, The Beatles, and later, The Ramones. Take that, pop-rock, girl-boy binaries!

In other words, I’m telling you to read this book.

One thing I appreciate about Warwick’s book from the outset is the celebration of the female voice. As I’ve long believed and argued extensively in this blog, we cannot give short-shrift to singers. While they can assuredly be tokenized and objectified, but they can also be empowered, embodied, and forge their own agency. Heartenly, she finds much going on with the voice, a distinct instrument no matter how it may have been manipulated or homogenized by label owners like Motown’s Barry Gordy and producers like Phil Spector and his overwhelming wall of sound. She hears the genteel precision of Diana Ross’s soprano, the urgent purr of Ronnie Spector’s husky alto, the untrained wavering of Shirelle Shirley Owens’s pitch, the gutteral inflections on Supreme Florence Ballard’s tone, the put-on nasal affectations of Broadway-trained groups like The Angels, the racial dimensions of Dusty Springfield’s blue-eyed soul, and the teenaged monotone of Shangri-La Mary Weiss.

She also hears these girls singing to one another, often in their own forms of feminine dialect and for the purposes of providing support and advice. On record, acts like The Dixie Cups, The Crystals, Betty Everett, and The Velvelettes would pepper their songs with seemingly nonsensical words and phrases like “iko iko,” “da doo ron ron,” “shoop,” and “doo lang doo lang,” often provided by backing vocalists as a means of support for the lead vocalist, who might be intimating her feelings about burgeoning romance or her conflicted feelings in the aftermath of a break-up.

Often, these girls were providing one another moral support and providing advice as well. While Warwick notes that advice songs tended to be the domain of girl groups with African American members like The Velvelettes, The Shirelles, The Chiffons, and The Marvelettes, they often imparted wisdom to their audiences that they learned from their mothers or their sisters, as well as sharing what they’ve learned from their own experiences. In doing so, these songs provided a counterargument to the assertion that girl groups only sang about boys and also expanded female discourse in popular music by including the words and experiences of generations of women into then present-day pop songs by girls.  

It cannot be ignored that while many girl group songs were written by men, not all of them were. As mentioned elsewhere, Brill Building stalwarts like Cynthia Weil, Ellie Greenwich, and Carole King were of paramount importance to the era. Many of these women, like Greenwich, wrote about seemingly teenage issues like young love and treated it as legitimate, at times giving it life-and-death importance, as she did on The Shangri-Las’ “Leader of the Pack.” 

King is a particularly interesting case as well. Before striking out on her own as a solo artist, she wrote many important songs for girl groups. Some songs, like The Crystals’ “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss)” address the troubling and dangerous aspects of patriarchy and oppression, and have been covered to harrowing effect by bands like Hole and Grizzly Bear.

Other songs King penned gesture toward the era’s prescience regarding shifting cultural attitudes toward feminism, female agency, and sexual autonomy, as on The Shirelles’ anthemic “Will You Love Me Tomorrow?” 

Girl groups were also clearly singing with one another, as girl groups often were comprised of siblings and relatives who wore matching outfits and performed intricate choreography to suggest that these girls were a unit, despite at times having clearly defined lead singers and stars who (especially in Diana Ross’s case) were thin and had a more conventional look and sound.

It was this image coordination that made The Ronnettes able to ingratiate night clubs when they were underaged, gave them the confidence to perform at those night clubs, and provided them with a sense of belonging that made them tough enough to brave any New York City street. It also makes this sense of actual or engineered sisterhood and camderadie seem especially fragile when success encroaches on it, as the tragic dimensions of Estelle Bennett and Florence Ballard’s post-girl group lives remind. 

Warwick shies from making any explicitly queer connections to girl groups beyond passing references to Springfield and Lesley Gore’s orientations and their relationships with the closet. I would have liked a bit more discussion of the queer dynamics of the groups’ homosocial bonding both on- and off-record. A brief appraisal of queer fandom (seemingly most pronounced among certain circles of gay men, though not exclusively) would also have been appreciated.

That said, I do appreciate Warwick reminding her readers of girl groups’ continual impact. As this is the section of the book that gets less focus, it would be worthwhile to read Warwick’s and Greig’s books together to get a larger sense of how punk, hip hop, and contemporary pop music were influenced by girl groups.

I would hasten to add country music to the list of genres that were shaped by this era. Given last night’s Saturday Night Live, which featured crossover star Taylor Swift as both host and musical guest (a rare opportunity for most pop stars, unless they are Justin or Britney). Watching her play a brace-faced teenager in a skit about parents who are worse drivers than their kids and her performance of “You Belong To Me” complete with careful, song-appropriate gestures, it was clear to me that the girl group era continues. As Mika Miko performs one of their last shows later today, I’ll wonder where it’ll permeate next.

Every December 24th, David Letterman invites Darlene Love, radiant in her now 68 years of age to lay into what… to me is still the greatest song about Christmas loneliness and yearning “(Christmas) Baby Please Come On Home”

There’s a reason why. If that were her only legacy, that megawatt raw performance (ironically produced in July, 1963….) which verges on a psychological breakdown in music if there ever was one, hits the core of everyone who never ever wants to be separated from the truest gift of Love and Affection during that season… that season of artifice and gift giving… instead of showing love and affection…

Highly appropriate that her stage name is Love huh?

You should know by now that she was the voice on The Crystals #1 hit “He’s A Rebel” and it’s follow up, the most awesome ode to broke dudes “He’s Sure The Boy I Love”

She also was a session singer on everything from Irma Thomas to Elvis to possibly being buried in every hit Phil Spector produced past the summer of 1962 it seems. She also graced the livingrooms of America on Shindig with awesome covers of current hits…

Like this clip of The Blossoms holding it down on The Velvelettes “Needle In a Haystack”

she laid down some awesome Northern Soul (“That’s When The Tears Start”)…. she walked away from it all for awhile…

…. and returned as Lt. Murtaugh’s wife… mad ass hell about a damaged Olds Cutlass Cruiser Station wagon in the Lethal Weapon series of movies.

The voice of a soul survivor… should she be in your town singing the joys of Phil Spectors A Christmas Gift For You in your town with her fellow survivor of the Wall of Sound Ronnie Spector… you owe yourself to sit front and center and understand why so many people attach emotion to a season in life.

through Darlene Love, you’ll learn a little about what she knows alot about… it’s in her last name

Well, he has finally did it. Yes, my dad, once he gets an idea in his head usually follows it through with the impatience of a child on Christmas Eve, so on Sunday, he got his big telly. A 42” Plasma for the bedroom, that’s living alright!

With a Blue-Ray player alongside it, he has definitely catapulted himself into the modern era, he’ll be getting an iPhone next and Twittering away. One of the things I am planning to do before he starts his radiation is to try and get him up to speed with the internet and be much more comfortable with using it. Part of me dreads to think when he is let loose on the amount of football and collector sites that he can surf but if he is going to be out of the game for a while, I think it would be good for him.

Again, thats all a while away but time tends to creep up rather quickly if you take your eye off the ball and we’ll need to keep him on the right path. Still, the introduction of even further technology has no doubt brought some peace to their domestic household but there has been a bit of an upheaval in mine.

Yes, I have taken in a lodger this week. Well, not a lodger cos I’m not charging any rent but one of my friends is taking the benefit of me being a city centre dweller with a spare room. I definitely get a bit lonely muttering around the flat myself, talking gibberish so its definitely good to have someone else but Im sure a week will be more than enough for the two of us. Mind you, with my articles and her studying, its not as if there is a lot of craic flying about but its definitely good to have someone around and as its one of my best mates, theres not a lot to moan about!

I was a stressed out git over the weekend, you’d think the Celtic strikers finding their shooting boots and the Rangers game being a washout for all the wet drips in Blue would have put me at ease would have calmed me out a bit but nah, had a lot on my mind and wasn’t best pleased with things. Probably the whole Halloween thing, Im not one for dressing up and most of the songs are rubbish – although the ones produced by Phil Spectre are obviously great!

Im sure there will have been a few Phil costumes at Halloween, sad way for such a great to ruin his legacy:

Anyways, we are now into November and whilst retailers are trying to hurtle us towards Christmas, November, for some, is Movember.

Basically, many guys are attempting to grow a moustache this month to raise awareness and maybe even money for prostate cancer. You know me, if theres a bandwagon, Im jumping on it but given the situation with my dad, I can hardly miss this one out:

My page should be:

Me on Movember

http://uk.movember.com/mospace/288242

However, the link to section appears a bit hit and miss but even if you go there and search “Andrew Reilly”, you will hopefully find me. I’m not one for chasing folk up for money, Im not fussed, its about raising awareness and well, Im going to make myself look a bit more silly. As the good women of Glasgow will tell you, Im not much to look so whats the difference a moustache can make?

With any luck, I’ll have a Terry Thomas moustache cultivated before the month is out.

DING-DONG!

WHO KILLED NANCY?, d’ Alan G. Parker
Who Killed Nancy? serveix per veure com hi ha gent que encara viu de ser amic de Sid Vicious i de Nancy Spungen. El documental d’Alan G. Parker es queda des del primer minut en la pregunta que dóna títol a la pel·li, i poca cosa més.

La pel·lícula intenta fer èmfasi en l’addició de Sid i Nancy a l’heroïna i la relació del baixista dels Sex Pistols amb la seva mare. Vivien al famós Chelsea Hotel i es codejaven amb la comunitat ionqui de Nova York. Una nit, celebrant a la seva manera l’èxit de Sid Vicious a una sèrie de concerts al Max’s Kansas City, Nancy va morir apunyalada. L’assassí i lladre va fugir amb tots els diners dels concerts; a Sid Vicious se’l va acusar d’homicidi. Malcolm McLaren va demanar a Virgin Records que pagués la fiança, i així va ser. 4 mesos més, Sid Vicious va morir de sobredosi; encara no se sap d’on va sortir la droga que el va matar, una heroïna molt pura.

S’insisteix en la vida de Sid Vicious, en quin eren els motius de la seva actitud davant la vida i en la relació amb la seva mare, una bohèmia que suposadament traficava de tant en tant amb droga. El que queda més clar el que va aportar al punk: llur imatge i condició d’enfant terrible.Vàlid pels més fans i curiosos.

MARC BOLAN. THE FINAL WORD, de Mark Tinkler
Marc Bolan. The Final Word reivindica la figura de Marc Feld, més conegut com Marc Bolan, com una de les figures imprescindibles per entendre l’evolució de la música rock des de finals dels 60, dominats per la psicodèlia i el folk, fins l’ arribada del punk, del qual alguns diuen que Bolan és el padrí.

Marc Bolan va deixar-ho tot per ser músic. Primer com a cara guapa d’un grup d’adolescents en busca del seu número ú, John’s Children. Cansat de tanta tonteria, al1969 va formar Tyrannosaurus Rex, amb Steve ‘Peregrin’ Took com a percussionista, un duet de folk acústic i psicodèlic, amb qui ja es va guanyar un prestigi com a músic clau del moviment hippie anglès; Tony Visconti el va descobirir i es va convertir en el seu productor (tasca que va dur a terme fins Zinc Alloy, al 1974). Més tard, canvi de cromos a la percussió, a més d’incorporar baixista i bateria; van passar-se a dir Marc Bolan and T. Rex, nom amb el que arribaren els primers èxits comercials. Del 1971 al 1973 Bolan va vendre 24 milions de discos; arribava a vendre 60.000 discs al dia, passant la mà per la cara a Lou Reed, a David Bowie i a John Lennon. Bolan era l’estrella de rock més exitosa del Regne Unit alhora que Led Zeppelin ho era als EUA. Els fans de l’època acústica, com li va passar al seu adorat Bob Dylan, no van acceptar el canvi; l’acusaven d’haver-se venut.

Purpurina, maquillatge, Gloria Jones als cors, la màquina T. Rex era imparable. No obstant, els hits, un darrera l’altre, van fer perdre l’oremus a Bolan: Ride a White Swan, Hot Love, Get in On, Children of The Revolution, 20th Century Boy, etc. La fama, l’alcohol i la cocaïna el van devorar. Va desaparèixer durant un temps a Montecarlo per rehabilitar-se; a la tornada, l’únic oferiment va ser un programa hortera on Bolan interpretava els seus clàssics. Cansat de viure del passat, va refundar els T.Rex i va fer tres disc més prou correctes. Es va tornar a guanyar el respecte de la crítica i fins i tot el de la generació punk; va arribar a portar de teloners a The Damned. Malauradament, un accident de cotxe, conduït per Gloria Jones, va posar fi precipitadament la seva curta però intensa vida el 16 de setembre de 1977, quan havia recuperat les ganes de fer música.

El documental, de factura televisiva, és amè i amb força contingut, i el que és més important: quan acaba tens ganes de recuperar els tres millors disc de Bolan: Electric Child, The Slider i Tanx.

THIS IS SPINAL TAP, de Rob Reiner
El rockumental per excel·lència. Documental de ficció que es recrea amb els clichés d’una banda de heavy metal. Spinal Tap és una banda amb un carrera exitosa que viu una crisi artística que no sap com reinventar-se. Gags, situacions ridícules, conflictes interns, de tot i mes durant 80 minuts on el que importa és riure dels arquetips més grotescos del rock n’ roll. És molt bo el personatge de la núvia d’un dels components d’ Spinal Tap, una barreja de Nico i Yoko Ono que intenta fer-se seva la banda però que finalment fracassa.

THE AGONY AND ECTASY OF PHIL SPECTOR, de Vikram Jayanti
L’excel·lent documental The Agony and Ectasy of Phil Spector fa un repàs a la vida, obra, judici per assassinat i reflexions d’un dels protagonistes indiscutibles de la música rock del segle XX. De Phil Spector s’han dit masses coses, però millor no sentir ni la meitat, i menys, creure-se’n res. Del productor de cims musicals com Spanish Harlem, Be My Babe, The He Kissed Me, River Deep Mountain High, Let It Be, Imagine, God, Mother, My Sweet Lord, un li suposa, a més d’una oïda i una creativitat superbes, doncs alguna que altre reflexió interessant. I aixi és.

Que era un desfasat, que va maltractar a algunes de les dones que es morien per estar amb ell, que no controlava, que li agradaven les pistoles, etc…; doncs no hem viscut amb ell, per tant, ell sabrà. Pels més purs, perfectes, assenyats i morals, Phil Spector era un depravat. La seva vida és el seu problema. El que ell ha regalat és la seva obra, i és el que vol compartir. El mateix Phil Spector reconeix que sempre s’ha sentit un enemic del sistema; que a ell tot el que és l’establishment i la parafernàlia corporativista li rellisquen. Ell vol ser respectat per la seva feina, per escriure cançons i produïr-les. Va crear l’anomenat Wall of Sound: el so que aconseguia Spector era com una mur infranquejable, on les veus i els intruments desprenen una energia i una força que abrumen. Com ell diu, si no se’t respecta, ja sigui el mateix sistema, la gent o qui sigui, la ira sempre apareix. També hi ha lloc pel sentit de l’humor més psicodèlic; quan li pregunten sobre el seu pentinat crepat, Spector comenta que el cabell aixecat era una manera de retre homenatge a Albert Einstein, Beethoven i a Ben Wallace, pívot de la NBA, tots tres amb pentinat crepat. Per cert, recordem que el judici es va declara nul i Spector és lliure.

Produïr noms com The Ronettes, The Righteous Brothers, Darlene Love, Ike & Tina Turner, tots aquests amb temes composats per Phil Spector, molts d’ells número ú immediats, The Beatles, John Lennon o George Harrison, poca broma, i com ell mateix sol·licita: respecte. Que es va equivocar, i molt, segurament. Ell ho sabrà. Com tots sabem que tots ens equivoquem, i molt, deixem de jutjar, i punxem un dels discs produïts per Phil Spector, i contagiar-se del geni, talent i energia que desprenen. Música en estat pur.

E: Para los que no podáis esperar a nuestra sección en el No són hores de esta noche, os adelantamos que hacemos un análisis profundo y pormenorizado de uno de nuestros festivales favoritos: el Festival de Cine Documental Musical In-Edit, cuyo propio nombre es más descriptivo de lo que pueda ser yo. Pero por si hay algún alma que todavía no sepa de qué va, hay que destacar que es un festival de cine documental dedicado a la música y sus daños colaterales. En él cada año (y con este ya van siete) podemos disfrutar de piezas que de otra manera sería imposible poder ver en nuestro país, con la música como eje central, sus documentales abordan artistas, músicos, luminarias, iconos y estrellas desde puntos de vista biográficos, sociológicos, literarios y de investigación. Pero ojo, que esto suena a coñazo y de eso nada. Cuando uno acaba de verse sus pelis en el In-Edit tiene la muy reconfortante sensación de ser un poquito más culto y saber un poquito más de qué va el asunto. Y eso, señores, en los tiempos en los que estamos, no tiene precio. Raül y yo llevamos días haciendo encaje de bolillos para organizarnos la semana, desde hoy y hasta el domingo 8 de Noviembre, el In-Edit inunda el Aribau Club y el cine Rex con su particular tormenta de imágenes musicales. A continuación, nuestros imprescindibles. Ya sabéis: nos vemos en el cine.

R: FAVELA ON BLAST + BEYOND IPANEMA. Ahora que África le está quitando el primer puesto como influencia en ciertos estilos musicales (principalmente, la música de baile, pero hay de todo y para todos), puede que sea el mejor momento para ponerse las pilas con Brasil. El In-Edit te proporciona una doblea excusa. Para empezar y, sin duda, como propuesta más interesante de las dos, uno de los imprescindibles del festival es Favela on Blast, documental co-dirigido por Leandro HBL junto al mismísimo Diplo (que resulta que se llama Wesley Pentz), ese mago de la producción al que deberían arrestar por habernos puesto en penitencia a la cantante de Camela, digo, a M.I.A. Para redimirse, esta pieza audiovisual pone el foco en las favelas desde un punto de vista que evita a toda costa el victimismo y el “la cosa está muy malita” para centrarse en una celebración de un estilo de vida y del sonido que de eso se desprende. De forma completista puede recurrirse a Beyond Ipanema, donde muchos artistas de “fuera” de Brasil dan su visión de la influencia de la música de allá en la música de acá. Es decir, que artistas como David Byrne, Arto Lindsay, M.I.A. (again and again) o Devendra Banhart hablan de otros artistas como Os Mutantes, CSS, Tom Zé, Marcos Valle, Sergio Mendes & Brasil ‘66 o Roberto Menescal… sin olvidar, claro está, el origen de la cuestión con nombres como Astrud Gilberto. Favela on Blast podrá verse el sábado 31 a las 22:30 en el Aribau Club 2 (con presentación incluída de DJ Coco), el lunes 2 a las 18:30 en el mismo lugar y el jueves 5 a las 20:00 en el Aribau Club 1. Beyond Ipanema, por su parte, se podrá degustar el sábado 7 a las 22:00 en el Aribau Club 1 (con la presencia del director, Guto Barra) y el domingo 8 a las 16:15 en el Rex.

E: JOHNNY CASH AT FOLSOM PRISON/JOHNNY CASH´S AMERICA. Dos documentales dedicados a una de las figuras más importantes que ha parido la música americana: el Hombre de Negro (y tiene su coña que yo sea tan fan). Patriotismo, adicciones, amor, pasión y sobre todo country en vena en dos documentales que cualquier fan de la música de raíces no debería perderse. El primero recoge la mítica actuación de Cash en la Prisión de Folsom en 1968, y que dejó uno de los albumes grabados en directo más vendidos y reconocidos de nuestros tiempos. Cash siempre había presumido de vivir fuera de la ley, y los outsiders legales siempre tenían un hueco en sus letras y en su corazón, por ello, a lo largo de su vida hizo un auténtico peregrinaje por la prisiones de su país para alegrarles las noches con bourbon e historias de caída, huída y redención. Guardias, presos, prensa y él mismo documentan esta actuación en uno de los filmes más deseados por sus fans. Pero, por si este caso concreto no era suficiente para entender su vida y contexto, en Jonny Cash´s America se nos retrata al hombre y al artista a través de sus admiradores más populares: Al Gore, Ozzy Ousborne, Bob Dylan, Sheryl Crow y otros que poco tienen que ver entre sí, encuentran un lugar común al hablar de lo que Cash representó en sus vidas, en la historia de la música y en la de su propio país. Para ver el primero, tres días en el Aribau Club 1: Jueves 5 a las 22:00h (presentación con el director, Bestor Cram), Viernes 6 a las 18:00 y el Domingo 8 a las 20:00. El segundo, hoy a las 20:15 en el Rex, y el domingo 8 a las 18:00 en el Aribau Club 1.

R: THE FOLK SINGER. ¿Alguien dudaba que este sería uno de mis niños mimados de este festival? Vamos, como que me he comprado tres camisas de lumberjack en H&M sólo para tener dónde escoger para el día del estreno… Y eso que, al fin y al cabo, The Folk Singer no gira en torno de ninguna de mis figuras idolatradas (ya sabéis: ni Iron & Wine ni Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy ni Bill Callahan pululan por este documental), sino que centra su mirada en la no menos interesante vida de Jon Konrad Wert, también conocido como Possessed By Paul James. Él es un hombre DE VERDAD, un cantante folk DE VERDAD: nada de pose, de estrella o de ese glamour que, al final, y por muchas barbas y camisas de cuadros que ostenten, acaban por mancillar las figuras de las estrellas de este género. La cámara sigue a Wert en sus vivencias cotidianas, dejando al descubierto heridas, sinsabores y contradicciones que tienen mucho que ver con un artista pero también con una cultura, la norteamericana: barras de bar, disparos contra latas y lágrimas de madrugada. Todo eso y mucho más el sábado 7 a las 23:00 en el Aribau Club 2 (con sesión de preguntas y respuestas con el mismo director, M.A. Litter) y el domingo 8 a las 16:30 en la misma sala.

E: THE AGONY AND ECSTASY OF PHIL SPECTOR. Alguien me decía el otro día que no le extrañaba que yo quisiera ver este documental porque era “puramente tomatero”. Pues sí. Quizá sea el más Sálvame de todos los que se proyectan este año, y tiene pinta de ser uno de los más hilarantes. Phil Spector habla, y habla, y habla y habla sobre sí mismo, sus logros, sus virtudes, sus amigos y sus enemigos. Para los primeros tiene piropos justitos, y para los segundos, afila sus flechas. Grabado durante su juicio por homicidio (recordemos, estaba acusado de haber asesinado a Lana Clark en 2003), cuyo resultado fue hace unos meses una condena de trece años de prisión, Spector hace un repaso a su vida y habla sobre su concepción de la música y de cómo creó un sonido y una forma de entender la producción musical, todo desde su personal perspectiva de la realidad, tan distorsionada como sus peluquines. Para los que quieran disfrutar de la megalomanía extasíaca de Spector el sábado 31 a las 20:00 en el Aribau Club 1, o en el Rex el martes 3 a las 22:15 y el viernes 6 a las 18:15.

R: SOUL POWER + SOUNDTRACK FOR A REVOLUTION. Doble sesión didáctica. Ya lo decimos siempre: el In-Edit tiene muchísimo de “cursillo de otoño” sobre música en imágenes. Y este doblete lo prueba de forma más que efectiva: entre los dos documentos, suman una master class absoluta al respecto de la lucha por los derechos civiles de la comunidad negra y, sobre todo, de la estrecha relación de este movimiento con la música. Soundtrack for a revolution es, probablemente, el film más “formal” de los dos en su voluntad de narrar esa lucha por los derechos civiles y la forma en el que la música proporcionó cohesión a una comunidad que necesitaba ser cohesionada para luchar hombro con hombro. Todo sazonado con testimonios de gente como Wycleff Jean o The Roots. Soul Power, sin embargo, opta por una visión mucho más lateral y, probablemente, más interesante. Su punto de partida es el mítico combate de boxeo entre Muhammed Ali y George Foreman en la ciudad del Zaire en 1974: en aquel momento, la ciudad se convirtió en un hervidero de genuino Black Power elevado hasta las estrellas gracias a la presencia de actuaciones de artistas como James Brown, Miriam Makeba y B.B. King. Lo dicho: this is black celebration! Déjate contagiar, primero por Soundtrack for a revolution: el lunes 2 a las 22:15 (con Bill Guttentag y Dan Sturman, los directores), el jueves 5 a las 18:15 y el viernes 6 a las 20:15, siempre en el Rex. Sigue después con Soul Power, que se proyectará el viernes 6 a las 22:25 (con Jeffrey Levy-Hinte, el director, en la sala), el sábado 7 a las 16:15 y el domingo 8 a las 20:15, siempre en el cine Rex también. Debe ser el black spot.

E: SHADOW PLAY:THE MAKING OF ANTON CORBIJN. Salimos de lo estrictamente musical para adentrarnos en el universo visual del fotógrafo y director de las estrellas… del indie, se entiende. Empezó su carrera como fotógrafo del NME y de ahí pasó a ser el creador del imaginario visual de Joy Division, poca gente hay que no se estremezca con el vídeo de Atmosphere, y era cuestión de tiempo que se lanzara a dirigir el biopic de Ian Curtis. Lástima que Control esté basada en la biografía de Deborah Curtis y sufra la subjetividad caprichosa y poco certera de la despechada mujer del cantante, pero esa es otra historia. Hasta el día de hoy, ha fotografiado a todo el mundo: Depeche Mode, U2, Annie Lennox, Pj Harvey, Iggy Pop, Bowie, Brian Eno y todas las luminarias del rock y del pop contemporáneo, que no dudan en deshacerse en elogios hacia su trabajo y su figura. Uno de los artistas visuales más admirados y populares de nuestros días, se nos presenta en este documental visto por lo demás y construido a través de su labor diaria en el estudio. Solo apto para estetas del blanco y negro. En el cine Rex el domingo 1 a las 22:15; el martes 3 a las 20:15 y el sábado 7 a las 18:15.

New Yorks indiepopscen fortsätter att ge oss vackert stökig shoegaze. Skostirrarna The Manhattan Love Suicides splittrades ganska nyligen, och nu återfinns två av medlemmarna i ett nytt band; The Blanch Hudson Weekend. Bandet har lagt ut några låtar på sin Myspace, och det är en mäktig ljudvägg som backar upp en transparent röst i skön shoegaze. The Jesus And Mary Chain är det självklara första man tänker på, på samma sätt inspirerade av Phil Spector och hans wall of sound, 60’s girl groups och med de obligatoriska Be my baby-drums. Debutsingel kommer i november på Squirrel Records.

Myspace
Squirrel Records

For the Miami New Times music blog Crossfade.

Many famous musicians have spent a day or three in jail for driving drunk, holding drugs, or something really stupid. But only the select few have spent a serious stretch of time in prison, which brings us to David Allan Coe (pictured). The original country outlaw performs Friday at the Culture Room in Fort Lauderdale.

It’s confirmed Coe did time at Ohio State Penitentiary and he has famously claimed to have been on death row for killing a man who attempted to procure a blow job from him — this has not been confirmed or proven false. Although Coe is a redneck renegade who penned “Take This Job and Shove It,” recorded the 1970s smash “You Never Even called Me By My Name” and recorded an album with the members of Pantera, he’s by no means the greatest recording artist to do hard time. Here’s a highly subjective list of the greatest musicians who worried about being some bulky dude’s bitch.

Continue reading/check out the killer clips.

È fresco di stampa il nuovo disco dei Frida X, Uno Due Molti, venti canzoni venti tra Beach Boys, punkrock, Phil Spector, folktronica e accenni alla psichedelia di scuola canterburiana in salsa pop, con arrangiamenti incredibili.

Il testo della diciannovesima traccia, L’ombra, è a firma del vostro affezionato kai zen di quartiere J e nella versione iniziale era più o meno così (poi con Andrea dei Frida è stata rivista un po’  la metrica, e nel disco è finita la versione 2.0):

Ho perso l’ombra, l’ombra non c’è. Ho perso l’ombra in una milonga. Al chiaro di luna e con il solleone, l’ombra non c’è

Ho cercato in nursery e cimiteri. Su muri di calce viva e meridiane. Tra macchie di leopardo e satelliti allo zenit.  (ho) scavato solchi e prosciugato pozzi.

Ho perso l’ombra, l’ombra non c’è. Ho perso l’ombra dietro una tomba. Sotto cirri e cumulonembi, l’ombra non c’è.

Ho guardato nella cruna dell’ago. Nell’occhio del ciclone, nella serratura e sotto il portone. Tra polvere di stelle e residui di lavorazione. (ho) divelto forzieri e asciugato stive

Ho perso l’ombra, l’ombra non c’è. Ho perso l’ombra nella sordina di una tromba. Tra tagli di diamanti e lame di rasoi, l’ombra non c’è.

Ho esplorato Baires, Sibiu e Bombay. Su mappe ingiallite e bussole impazzite. (ho) spostato dolmen e menhir. Ho perso l’ombra, l’ombra non c’è.

Ho perso l’ombra sulla cresta dell’onda. Tra lucciole e steli di lampioni, l’ombra non c’è.

Ho letto tra le righe, voltato pagine. Corto Maltese, Shanfeng, Meursault. Nessuno, nemmeno Ulisse sa dov’è.

(Ho) svuotato le tasche e chiuso gli occhi. Ho visto l’ombra, l’ombra è tornata da sé.

Ho trovato l’ombra ma ho perso me.

Six months on and the seemingly ground-breaking reality TV experiment Celebrity STD island is in crisis after failing to the secure lucrative advertising contracts it required to pay its stellar cast.

The show has continued apace despite failing to entice a satellite broadcaster, hoping to build a steady internet presence which would allow a downmarket obscure digital channel to invest at a later stage.  The show is now in crisis as no investor has been prepared to risk the wrath of the militant middle-England shit rag The Daily Mail.

Advertising chiefs are said to be boycotting the reality show after a raft of negative publicity from right wing Nazi magnet The Daily Mail.  Phil Spector’s £1m fee is still said to be ‘outstanding’ although the big haired lunatic was quoted as saying “I’m not so sure about this being ‘outstanding’.  I’m short of £1m pounds and have rent boys to pay.  I find it frankly distasteful that the producers would degrade the situation by describing my fee as ‘outstanding’”.

Cheeky mmouthed 'tashe fan Cannon is said to be considering seeing other people after the recent fracas, telling his gay lover Ball that "I love you, I'm just not in love with you".

Last week, Cannon & Ball walked off the reality TV flop after a controversial dispute, where Cannon contracted herpes courtesy of Kenzie from Blazin’ Squad, but refused to share his disease with long-term life partner Ball.  The duo’s relationship is said to be reaching ‘boiling point’.

Footy piss head Paul Gascoigne was recently slated by elements of the right wing press after continuing to anally pound his AIDS riddled step-daughter, despite already having collected her ailment. Writing in the Daily Express, former Tory hotpot Edwina Curry described the continued buggery as ‘distasteful’ and ‘an affront to the  delicious female species’.

The show’s producers, Mule Productions, defended the back door ravenry, releasing a statement which suggested it was ‘mild hochmagandy between two grown individuals, both seeking greater media exposure at all costs’.  It also claimed no responsibility for the actions of ‘media starved jizz magnets’.

Reporting is limited due to ongoing legal disputes, but recently deceased fun park curating moonwalker Michael Jackson is said to be reconsidering his bloated corpse’s participation after a raft of teeny fanmail urging him to leave the island in order to reignite his adolescent trap fairground.

Once legal restrictions have been lifted, we will bring you more…

Do I have your attention now? Good. Because I like the Beatles. I do, I really do. And I absolutely love a lot of their songs. I love The White Album and I love Sgt. Pepper’s and I love Let It Be (but only the naked version. I only like the Phil Spector Wall-of-Mono). I really like Rubber Soul and Revolver and Abbey Road, too. Overall—and call me radical, call me profound, call me revolutionary—I’d say that the Beatles were a pretty phenomenal band.

But I don’t love ‘em. I don’t get excited about them. I don’t seek them out, memorize their class schedule and just happen to be in the hallway right outside the door and act surprised to see them. I don’t seek out obscure versions of songs and demos. I don’t bring them up in conversation when I meet someone—”Oh, you like the Beatles, too?! No way! I like the Beatles! Let’s be friends!” Beyond the three aforementioned albums, it’s actually very rare for me to actively and consciously choose listen to the Beatles. I own every album, and I enjoy them immensely whenever they come on, but I rarely think, “I want to listen to the Beatles right now.” Hell, just between you and me—seriously, don’t spread this around—but a little tiny part of me judges someone in my age bracket if s/he refers to the Beatles as his/her favorite band. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve definitely met people my age who do genuinely love the Beatles, and mean it when they say it with the full-fledged passion of wedding vow, but I’m not talking about them. They’re fine by me. I’m talking about the people who say it, as far as I can tell, because it’s easy. Because it’s what they think they’re supposed to say, supposed to like. Because they lack a real passion for music. They’re the greatest rock and roll band of all time, without a doubt—but that doesn’t mean they have to be your favorite.

You see, the Beatles aren’t my band. They’re not my band, because, in a way, they’re everyone’s band. We all lay claim to them, in our own way, but as a result, we all have to share them (It is different for the people who were alive for that brief dimple in time when the group was actually active because they were there. They were a part of it). Maybe it’s some subconscious monogamy thing, but if I can’t claim the Beatles as my own, then I can’t love them. I love the songs, but not the band as a singular collective entity. It’s not about popularity; there are plenty of bands that I claim to love who are popular (not as popular, sure). But with these groups, it’s still something I can be there for, and it’s not nearly as universal. Maybe the Beatles are like air; it’s not very often that I really crave air, or desire it (except when I’m having an asthma attack. But that’s different) the way I do bacon, or beer, or a milkshake. It’s just a fact of life.

Chart Position: NR

• Lead vocals: Dee Snider
• Originally recorded by Shangri-Las (1964)
• Written by Phil Spector, Jeff Barry and Ellie Greenwich
• Also recorded by Bette Midler (1972) and Good Riddance (2002)

Well, my heart’s in the Highlands at the break of day,
Over the hills and far away,
There’s a way to get there, and I’ll figure it out somehow,
But I’m already there in my mind,
And that’s good enough for now

Christmas is a good two months away, but already Jack Frost is nipping at our nose…or ears, as the case will be this Tuesday when Bob Dylan, producing under one of his favorite pseudonyms, releases his first Christmas album.

Love it or loath it, Dylan’s decision rip another page from the American songbook isn’t quite as out of place as one might expect. For just about as long as there have been Christmas albums, pop stars have perpetuated the longstanding yuletide tradition of recording holiday-themed discs. Barbra Streisand, Neil Diamond, and Phil Spector all have recorded Christmas albums. In fact, Diamond’s second helping of Christmas cheer, A Cherry, Cherry Christmas, will be released the same day as Dylan’s Christmas in the Heart.

So why have so many musicians, including those who don’t even celebrate Christmas, start roasting chestnuts over an open fire right around this time every year? The reason is simple: Christmas albums are cheap, easy to make and, if done right, they can result in a stocking stuffed with wads of cash. Dylan, however, isn’t in it for the money. All royalties from Christmas in the Heart are being earmarked for food banks in the U.S. and abroad.

Of course, just because everyone from Burl Ives to the the Beach Boys have recorded an album chock full of Christmas classics certainly doesn’t mean Dylan had to. Like many of us during the holiday season, he could have surreptitiously made a donation to his favorite charity and forgone the scrutiny this latest seasonal offering will inevitably stir.

But Dylan isn’t like the rest of us, and this isn’t the first—nor will it likely be the last—career move that will leave audiences and critics wondering what’s really going on behind those shades.

Over the last four and a half decades, Dylan has constantly reinvented himself, surprising his audience and critics alike. But of all his countless self-reinventions, his brief conversion to Christianity in 1979 has always been one of his most vexing.

And while some of Dylan’s finest songs were written during that period—“Change My Way of Thinking,” “Every Grain of Sand,” “Pressing On” to name a few—the decision to replace the Star of David with a crucifix has long been a thorn in his side. If the early reviews are any indication, Christmas in the Heart will likely have a similar effect.

Not that the notoriously indifferent Dylan is losing any shlofn over it. His decision to record 15 of the most well known Christmas classics clearly is more influenced by altruistic reasons than artistic ones. And judging from the enthusiastic and playful tone that permeates the disc from beginning to end, Dylan seems to have thoroughly enjoyed making Christmas in the Heart. Having said that, however, those who have heard the album can attest— not since Bing Crosby and David Bowie traded verses on “The Little Drummer Boy” on Crosby’s 1977 network special has the Christmas spirit been rendered more surreal.

And while many of his detractors have asked why Dylan would even make a Christmas album in the first place, if we just step back and take a look at the man in question, the answer seems self evident. This is Bob Dylan we are talking about, after all — the same person who cited flamboyant wrestler, Gorgeous George, and über oddity, Tiny Tim, as two of his biggest inspirations.

The real question, therefore, isn’t really so much whether listeners will embrace the new Dylan album as a holiday tradition or not. Truth be told, they probably won’t.

But you just never know. Like so much with Dylan, the answer remains a mystery. And frankly, Dylan probably won’t want it any other way…

It must be a holiday, there’s nobody around,
She studies me closely as I sit down,
She got a pretty face and long white shiny legs,
She says, “What’ll it be?”
I say, “I don’t know, you got any soft boiled eggs?”

Hello people and welcome to another post from me, in fact this is the 98th post which means that my mega 100th post which will list my top 100 songs is not too far away now, how exciting is that eh?

I have some news for the regular readers amongst you; back in May I asked if you could guess where I was going to be starting work that month. The link to that post is here if you wish to try and guess again! So don’t read on at this point if you are a second guesser! Why? Well that’s easy because I have now left that job and will be starting another soon. OK if you’re not a second guesser I’ll put you out of your misery, I have been working at BP! Where am I working next? OK let me give you a few clues; Prince Charles off of the Royal Family, Prince off of Purple Rain, Henry VIII off of Herman’s Hermits 60s hit “I’m Henry the VIII I am” What do they all have in common? What are they? Answer that and you will have guessed where I’ll be working next! As usual there may well be a prize if anyone can be bothered to enter and if I can be bothered to sort through my crap at home for a prize!

OK onto the news. David Bowie along with James Osterberg (that’ll be Iggy Pop to the non anoraks) is to be immortalised in Lego for a new Lego version of the Rock Band game. Click here to see Lego Bowie performing “Let’s Dance”I wonder if they’ll do the same to Robbie Williams. I’ve always thought he was a bit of a brick (errrrrrr did I spell that right?)

Taken from the 1983 Serious Moonlight image, I'm not sure it looks much like him. What do you think?

Now this one looks much more like the real thing

OK this next piece is not strictly music, but I just wanted to say something about it. I personally have a big issue with the piles of ‘self help’ books that clutter our book stores these days. For me the term ‘self help book’ is a complete oxymoron. You either help yourself or perhaps read a book where effectively someone else is trying to help you. (or they’re trying to make a fortune from gullible people by publishing stream of consciousness psychobabble bollocks. Apparently self help books are the only literary genre to have increased sales (by 25%) during the recession. Or to use the more snappy name of ‘The Credit Crunch’ bestowed by one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Which one was it; Pestilence, Plague, Flood or Marketing? I’ll bet that you can’t guess. As a follow on I read on Tuesday that sales of Sarah Ferguson’s self help books have plummeted, they must be worse than awful then! Anyway the article can be found by clicking here. There is one quote which I believe sums up my opinions of this awful genre and it was from the Guardian’s medical correspondent. When asked if he would read another book of this type he said “I would rather slam my cock in the door” So as I have said before this is a music post, so let’s get back to that with a combination of songs about books and help!

Paperback Writer – Beatles. This may have been the most obvious choice for the book part of the list. It was the first of the Beatles UK singles that wasn’t a love song

Story Of The Blues– Wah! I have always loved this song, it has a great, almost Phil Spectorish, production and certainly on record Pete Wylie’s voice is superb. I’m not sure about the sailors hat in the video though, but don’t worry, things become even more camp later in this post! Wylie started his career in Liverpool in 1977 in a short-lived band called the Crucial Three along with none other than Ian McCulloch (off of Echo And The Bunnymen) and Julian Cope (off of the Teardrop Explodes)

Book Of Love - Monotones A classic one hit wonder group. Charles Patrick one of the singers wrote the words after hearing a Pepsodent jingle which carried the refrain “You’ll wonder where the yellow went”

Help– Beatles. This, as the astute readers will have spotted is the second song from the MopTops in this list, an obvious choice I suppose but a great song nonetheless. Lead vocals come from John Lennon on this song which he wrote about his feelings of insecurity following the bands rapid rise to global fame. Incidentally on the album cover the Beatles semaphore stance was originally intended to spell HELP, but apparently it didn’t look aesthetically pleasing, so it actually spells NUVJ. Which on reflection wouldn’t have been a great album title would it?

Help Yourself – Tom Jones This video is taken from the first edition of Tom’s UK TV show ‘This Is Tom Jones’ in February 1969. Is it me or are those dancers the campest in the entire history of the universe?

I Can’t Help Myself  (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)– Four Tops. Some excellent Motown formation dancing from the guys in this one, which if you haven’t viewed the previous Tom Jones clip you might have considered somewhat camp, after that it is downright butch! The Tops were originally known as the Four Aims back in the 50s, but there was another vocal group known as the Four Ames (Ames being a family name) so to avoid confusion they became the Four Tops. They were one of my favourite groups when I began to get into music and in my opinion Levi Stubbs voice may never be surpassed. However there does exist another rather good version of this song from the talented but hardly mentioned these days, Mr Donnie Elbert, click here to hear it. Still on the subject of camp who is Music Mike and what is Flashback Favourites? (you’ll have to check out the Donnie video to understand

I am particularly excited for my New Release Tuesday post today. “Why?” you ask. “Is it because of the new Backstreet Boys CD or the Creed re-release?” Well, I can honestly so that it is not. It is however the first week of October which means the official beginning of the Christmas season for record labels and movie distributors, thus kicking off the nauseating three month frenzy of crap being dumped into the marketplace. Sweet!

secret

The Raveonettes – In and Out of Control

Emily Haines

For those unfamiliar, The Raveonettes are a brilliant band from Denmark by way of Brooklyn consisting of Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo who I am in love with. Sharin shares a special place in my heart with Metric’s Emily Haines. I indeed have a weakness for waify non-American blonde indie rock chicks who play guitar. Anyway…on to the music.
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The Raveonettes’ last album Lust Lust Lust was my absolute favorite of 2008 and I’ve since been patiently anticipating its follow-up. Their music is like pre-Beatles pop songs recorded by the Velvet Underground and then covered by a Psychocandy era Jesus and Mary Chain who sent the tracks back to the future through a time warp to be mixed by a pre-felony/incarceration era Phil Spector. Helpful? After three attentive listens I’m prepared to say that In and Out of Control isn’t quite on par with Lust Lust Lust, but I didn’t expect it to be. The same seamless harmonies and efficient songwriting, just much less adventurous sonically.
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Here is their incredibly catchy new single “Last Dance”

Dead Man’s Bones – Dead Man’s Bones

Ryan Gosling

Two things can be expected from actors who become bored with acting and decide they want to be rock stars: A) Their album will suck. B) No matter how bad it sucks some label will take a gamble and release it. For this reason I was terrified upon hearing Ryan Gosling, one of my very favorite actors and man crush objects, started a band with his neighborhood’s hipster children’s choir and they were releasing an album. Initially I feared that best case scenario it would be dismissed as an indulgent novelty and forgotten before doing any permanent damage. Well, sorry I doubted you Ryan.
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I am relieved to say that after listening, my respect for Gosling as an artist has only deepened. Dead Man’s Bones can’t easily be summed with comparisons so I’ll just recommend listening to it. The best I can do is say that it’s eclectic, charming in a creepy sort of way and best experienced with a fake life-sized doll.

Hope Sandoval & the Warm Inventions – Through the Devil Softly

Best known as the former singer of mid 90’s shoegaze folk duo Mazzy Star whose song “Fade Into You” still finds its way onto soundtracks and TV shows. Hope could sing through a phone book and make it haunting and rich, (though I hope she never does because that would make for the worst album ever), and to me that’s why this album as a whole doesn’t grab me. Too much gets stripped down and cleared away to make room for her vocals and as a result sometimes the songs either run into one another or just don’t go anywhere. Through the Devil Softly was produced by former My Bloody Valentine guitarist Colm O’Coisoig who I wish would have brought some of his former band’s sonic adventure with him to this one. Click here for more good times secret

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Built to Spill – There is no Enemy

Indie-rock troubadours continue to make it work after 15 years. Nothing groundbreaking, just good vibrant pop-rock songs and giant beards.

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Noah & the Whale – The First Days of Spring

This British folk band’s name is a tribute to filmmaker Noah Baumbach and his wonderful 2005 film The Squid and the Whale which makes them instantly cool. Their sophomore album The First Days of Spring is a melancholy affair that seems to largely be about lead singer Charlie Fink and former member Laura Marling’s relationship. While it makes for a focused album it comes off as semi-pitiful when considering that 19 year old Laura’s album Alas, I Cannot Swim is quite good and seems to have nothing at all to do with him.

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Matthew Good – Vancouver

Well-crafted, emotive songs from veteran Canadian singer-songwriter.

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Brandi Carlisle – Give Up the Ghost

Produced by Rick Rubin, the mastermind behind Johnny Cash’s American recordings. Love her voice, like her songs as much as I need to.

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Air – Love 2

Sleepy and uninspired 5th album from the French electronica duo responsible for setting the moody sonic backdrop to Sofia Coppola’s debut film The Virgin Suicides.

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Clientele – Bonfires on the Heath

Well, this hazy, London indie rock band is nothing if not consistent. Sometimes predictability can work.

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DVD’s

Anvil: The Story of Anvil

The fact that I never heard of Anvil and that my only interest in 80’s hair metal is mocking its ridiculousness didn’t stop me from loving this documentary. The film was marketed as the “true to life” Spinal Tap which makes sense but at the same time trivializes the heart of the film. It is hilarious and equal time is spent laughing with them and at them but it’s also heartbreaking. At Anvil’s core is a story about disappointment and broken dreams and the relationships that sustain us. Director Rob Reiner does a great job delicately balancing humor and heart. You will find yourself cheering these guys on as they take one final stab at their dream. I Highly recommend!

Books

PostSecret: Confessions on Life, Death, and God

This book series is very meaningful to me so I’ll post about it at length in a couple days

Sitcom: Roman Polanski is forced to share a cell with Charles Manson. Through turns so horrifying and hilarious it hurts, the bedfellows find they have more in common than their short stature. It’s a strange world after all. That’s what the Disneyland ride says, anyway. The one that opened that same August night back in 1969–the haunted mansion.

It was forty years ago tonight, Charlie Manson taught his band to fight.

Does Roman P regret drugging the girl? Does he regret raping her? Does he regret the shit out of gettin on that plane to his own fucking film festival?!!! Hey Switzerland, that’s not very neutral of you! Go make a fucking cuckoo clock. Because when the clock strikes 13, I want to hear that minah bird telling me the fucking score. Cuckoo Cuckoo!!!

Oh, these acts are so unspeakable I just can’t shut up about them! I guess the reason words like “sssssssodomy” feel so fucking good coming out of my mouth and into your ear is because they remind me of the bible stories of my youth. Sodom, now there’s a city to sit back and grow old in! Sodom, Gomorrah, Oz, Wonderland, …Hollywood.

Fame is the game. The fame of a crime must die before the crime dies. This year the parole board let Manson girl Squeaky Fromme out, while Gerald Ford’s less famous would-be assassin Sara Jane Moore only had to wait one year after the ex-president’s death. Charlie would have to die before parole politics smiles on any of the “family.” In September, terminally ill Manson girl Susan Atkins didn’t have a leg to stand on. Pun intended. The one-legged, nearly vegetable, born-again Christian version of Atkins was unable to even appear before the parole board. Tell me, tell me, tell me the answer, I may be a killer but I got brain cancer!!! Well, the answer was no, and three weeks later Atkins was dead. She had been the longest-incarcerated female inmate in the California penal system.

Somebody buy me a drink. You see, I believe in justice (gettin justas drunk as I can), and tonight I’m drinking just to catch up with life’s drunken fate. This year also saw girl group producer Phil Spector begin serving his sentence for murdering a B movie star in Corcoran’s special unit. Charlie slipped Phil some fan mail through a gaurd and proposed collaborating on some music. Spector was horrified and was quoted as saying, “I used to pick up the phone and it was John Lennon or Celine Dion or Tina Turner, and now Charles Manson is trying to get a hold of me!” Spector, who is also quite diminutive, should probably get over himself and get to work with Charlie. But even if they wanted to explore the “wall of sound” prison has to offer, they couldn’t do much without any instruments. Your freedom of expression is locked up too on the inside. Should Corcoran Correctional allow Charles Manson to have his guitar on the inside? Should Corcoran Correctional allow Phil Spector to wear his wig on the inside? Should the two be allowed to make Phil’s greatest record since “He Hit Me And It Felt Like a Kiss?”  So many questions. Oh poor Charlie. Snubbed again! This time by Phil! Now he sits in his lonely cell.

Until little Roman comes along! Charlie wants to let bygones be bygones and proposes writing a film project together based on his life story, but Roman is reluctant. One night in prison, Charlie creepy crawls through the backdoor in Roman’s mind and the director has a bad dream…

In the nightmare Sharon and Susan Atkins are reunited in Heaven where they too now share a cell for all eternity! Sharon remembers sitting in her bra and panties chit-chatting with her exboyfriend sometime between midnight and thirteen o’ clock. Her instinct when the stranger stopped in the hallway and peered blankly into the bedroom, was to simply smile and wave to her. And old Sexy Sadie remembers waving back. After reporting back to Tex Watson, who was busy doing the devil’s business in the living room, Atkins returned to the bedroom with her new orders. When it was all done, she looked at the globe-like belly of the beautiful corpse noosed up to her equally bloodied triple X exboyfriend. Behind the bodies there was a couch with old glory draped over it, creating a scene worthy of a postcard.

Life is a series of pregnant pauses and miscarried noise.

For a moment, Atkins considered taking her knife and removing Sharon’s baby to bring it back to Charlie as a present. But that proved to be too much work even for the devil.

Bartender, pour me some more Jesus juice.

How old would Sharon’s baby be today? Old enough to legally fuck. And how old is Rosemary’s Baby now? Timeless, goddamn it. You see, I believe the children are our future, and the future is looking hot!

This is true, Roman only had one suspect for the cops–Papa John Phillips of the Daughtas and the Papas. There’s no honor among pedophiles. Well that’s not true, Woody Allen’s already signed a petition in favor of Roman Polanksi. Say whatever happened to Rosemary’s baby girl? Yeah, I’m talking to you, Soon-Yi. You’re not a little girl anymore. Did you adopt a daughter so Woody has something when he can no longer get a woody for your stagnant ass? Woody Allen–now there’s a pedophile who takes care of you after an inappropriate photo shoot. One of the highest paid child molesters? Not sure. Certainly one of the biggest Jews.

Roman P’s victim, Samantha G, wrote a piece in support of his holocaust movie Oscar nomination in 2003, in which she said, “honestly, the publicity surrounding (the trial) was so traumatic that what he did to me seemed to pale in comparison.” Will the media camp out on her family’s lawn waiting for some footage of her crying? Will Oprah ask her, “How did the incident affect your relationships as you grew up?” Will we all read between the lines and translate the question as–”So, how many times have you been fucked up the ass since then?”

Yeah, you can’t wait. You’re the same middle aged housewives afflicted with moral elephantitis who refused to accept Fatty Arbuckle’s acquittal in 1921. Just turn off To Catch a Predator, stop shaving your crotch for your barely legal subscribing boyfriends, dry your fucking panties, and try to focus on your own boring lives.

The apocalypse will be televised! And you’d rather sit at home watching it with some popcorn, nodding your head in disbelief, than look out your fucking window, or just look in the mirror and see it all for yourself. Some folks wouldn’t recognize the apocalypse without a little dramatic anchor commentary.

But the critic says that there are no heroes, there are no villains, and even the victims are comic. So I say free Roman! Fuck, free Charlie while you’re at it. But somebody please lock up Oprah.

Suddenly it’s just me and the bartender. The place is pretty big I realize, sitting down with my Jesus juice. It’s completely silent except for the ringing in my ears. The bartender says he cried all day after hearing the news about Michael Jackson and tells me about some internet rumor that the pop star faked his death and is living in some kind of fortress of solitude to wait out the apocalypse of 2012. It’s probably true that if you have trouble surviving a pre-apocalyptic world, you start preparing, and even longing, for a post-apocalyptic world. It’s not much different than the afterlife sold to peasants but I don’t know where anyone got the idea that the apocalypse will be sudden and quick. It could be never ending, and it could have been going on for a long long time now. Some folks wouldn’t know the apocalypse if it fucked them in the ass.

I think about Michael, the child star of the 70’s, the idol to children everywhere in the 80’s, the accused child molester of the 90’s, and the dead man-child of 2009. When he danced the moonwalk it was seen on TV by more people than when a man walked on the moon back in 1969, only weeks before Charlie taught his band to fight. And for a moment, just as many people questioned whether or not what they were seeing was real. He walked backwards but appeared to walk forward. He was black but he appeared to be white. He was a man who appeared to be a woman. He was a real person who appeared to be a television personality. And he was a sinner who appeared to be a saint.

Bartender–Shirley Temple, and a half a lude too, in case things get lewd.

In 1968, a year before the moon landing, Stanley Kubrick unveiled his epic space odyssey. Well, 2001 came and went, with no fetus growing in the womb of outer space. But I was at a discotheque and I swear I saw those big blue eyes peering back from inside the mirror ball just before it came crashing to the floor. You see, the children are our future, and the future is looking scolding hot right now.

I think of little Alice Liddell who went chasing rabbits through Lewis Carroll’s looking glass. And I think of Carroll’s rumored pedophilia. “Go ask Alice, I think she’ll know. When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead. Remember what the dormouse said–Feed your head, feed your head…”

Meanwhile… Nazi deputy master Rudolf Hess was on a secret mission that night. The loneliest soul in Spandau was up for harmonic conversion. He hadn’t answered Charlie’s letter. He wasn’t in a writing mood. Shit, he didn’t even leave a note before they put the noose around his neck and made that suicide happen! Well, he’s in Heaven with Roman’s mommy now. And there was a buzzing in the prison garden, but it wasn’t a bee. You see, the radio had been left on, and the radio was still playing 1943… Letter or not, Charlie got his response, loud and clear– “Abraxus.”

Over and out, Rudy. Okay now, you been in prison longer than anyone else, Charlie, AKA Riff Raxus. But Roman’s got a year on you and he’s been in and out of the prison of his mind all the live long day. That reminds me, I used to have these striped pajamas that I’d wear as a scrawny little child. My father called me “Aushwitz” when he tucked me in. Thanks for the bedtime story, old man. “Like the fairy tales you tell children so they are better equipped to handle their lives as people buried alive,” a famous director said to me in his thick sultry German voice before he did a line off my deep six. That was the last time I saw him buried alive.

There’s still plenty of fairy tales and bible stories to be made into movies, but they won’t be made by Roman P, they’ll be made by McG, and they’ll be starring you and me. But hey, there’s more than one way to kill a couple hours or three, right? But if it all adds up to a lifetime you’ll have to help me with my arithmetic, people. Like all good truants, I missed 3rd grade math. Guess I didn’t like the way the teacher looked at me. 

Reality just ain’t what it used to be. Or as the boogeyman formerly known as Charles Manson said, “A long time ago being crazy meant something. Nowadays everybody’s crazy.” Amen, brother Charlie, Amen… ahem, ahem, hmm, …hmmmmmm.
 
Bartender, make my next one a double.

Well, you’ve all seen The Tenant, let’s torture that little Jew until he does it himself.

Charlie wept… “We’re not in Wonderland anymore, Alice.”

Copyright 2009, Gib Strange, copywrong as well.

(Article publicat al diari Avui el diumenge 20 de setembre del 2009)

El 20 de setembre de 1969 John Lennon anunciava als seus companys de grup que abandonava els Beatles. Avui doncs fa exactament 40 anys que el grup més important va deixar de existir, encara que el món no va saber de la notícia fins a un any després. “La Primavera ja és aquí, demà el Leeds United juga contra el Chester City, el Ringo, el John, el George i el Paul estan vius i es troben bé. El món continua girant i nosaltres i vosaltres també ho fem. Quan deixem de girar serà el moment de preocupar-nos, abans no”. Va ser amb aquesta nota de comiat feta pública per l’agent de premsa del grup, Derek Taylor, que els Beatles ens van dir adéu.

EL PRINCIPI DEL FINAL

Els Beatles van ser el grup més popular i influent de la història de la música contemporània. Com a totes les històries, la seva també va arribar a un final, i com a totes, mai és un sol motiu el que desemboca cap el desenllaç. John Lennon va declarar una vegada que el final dels Beatles va començar quan van realitzar la seva primera gira de sales pel Regne Unit l’any 1962, moment en què es van vendre i la música va passar a ocupar un segon pla. Sense ser tan dràstics, segurament el 1966 va ser l’any que va marcar l’inici del final dels Beatles. Aquell va ser l’any en què durant una entrevista a John Lennon el mes de març se li va preguntar quina era la seva opinió sobre la religió cristiana, qüestió a la que va respondre amb una declaració que acabaria per convertir-se en tota una llegenda: “Actualment els Beatles som més populars que Jesús”. Lennon, que per cert tenia tota la raó, era un home de llengua àcida i afilada, i a la Nord Amèrica més ultraconservadora les seves paraules van generar una immensa controvèrsia que, incitada per una ràdio de la ciutat de Birmingham a l’Estat d’Alabama, va finalitzar amb la crema pública dels discos dels Beatles a nombrosos punts dels Estats Units. Per apaivagar els ànims, i més tenint en compte que els Beatles havien d’iniciar en breu una gira pel país, el mànager del grup, Brian Epstein, va realitzar una conferència de premsa a Nova York on demanava disculpes a aquells que s’havien sentit ofesos per les paraules del cantant. Aquell mateix estiu, a San Francisco, els Beatles van prendre una decisió que també marcaria el seu futur: deixar d’actuar en directe. Creien inútil apujar-se a un escenari ja que durant els concerts la cridòria dels seus seguidors, especialment de la secció femenina, era tan ensordidora que els membres del grup a penes podien sentir què estaven tocant. Aquest fet, d’alguna manera, va comportar l’allunyament entre els integrants del grup. Tot i així el 24 de novembre de 1966, els quatre fabulosos va entrar una vagada més als estudis de gravació Abbey Road per enregistrar el disc Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, un dels millors discos del grup i de la història de la música.

LA MORT DEL PROTECTOR

El 24 d’agost de 1967 els Beatles van conèixer a l’hotel Hilton de Londres al Maharashi Mahesh Yogi, qui acabaria per convertir-se durant un temps en una mena de gurú per al grup. Poc dies després d’aquesta trobada els quatre membres dels Beatles es traslladaven a la població gal·lesa de Bangor per seguir un curset iniciàtic de meditació transcendental. Fou allà que es van assabentar de la mort als 32 anys per sobredosi de fàrmacs de Brian Epstein. A finals de la dècada dels anys 50, Epstein era el propietari d’una botiga d’electrodomèstics, i els seu departament de discos era un dels més importants de Liverpool i de la zona nord d’Anglaterra. La primera vegada que Epstein va sentir parlar dels Beatles va ser en un article aparegut al segon número de Mersey Beat, una revista musical publicada a Liverpool. La seva curiositat per la banda va anar creixent a mida que cada vegada més joves entraven a la seva botiga demanant ‘My Bonnie’, el single que els escarabats havien gravat a Hamburg juntament amb el cantant Tony Sheridan. Per resoldre el misteri, Epstein es va presentar el 9 de novembre de 1961 a un concert que els Beatles van oferir al llegendari local The Cavern. Els Beatles van actuar durant les tres setmanes següents a The Cavern. Només veure’ls ho va tenir clar, volia ser el seu mànager. L’experiència prèvia d’Epstein com a mànager era nul·la, però gran part de l’èxit aconseguit pels Beatles respon directament al seu instint pels negocis, a més, però, Epstein acabaria per convertir-se en una mena de figura paternal per als membres del grup. És lògic doncs que la seva mort fos un cop molt dur per a tots ells, molt especialment per al John Lennon, amb qui mantingué una relació molt estreta. “Quan va morir Epstein vaig saber que començaríem a tenir problemes. Estàvem acabats”, va declarar anys després en Lennon.  I és que més enllà de la part sentimental, la desaparició d’Epstein també va suposar que els propis Beatles es fessin càrrec dels assumptes legals i financers de la banda. Seguint una idea del propi Epstein, l’any 1968 va crear l’Apple Corps, un conglomerat empresarial en el que invertir els milions de lliures guanyades i no haver de cedir part d’aquest a l’estat en concepte d’impostos, formada per diverses divisions: Appel Electronics, destinada a dissenyar aparells electrònics a preu econòmics; l’Apple Films, divisió dedicada a produir pel·lícules; l’Apple Publishing, empresa destinada al registre i l’edició de caçons; l’Apple Boutique, una botiga de compra-venda; l’Apple Studio, uns estudis de gravació i  l’Appel Records, discogràfica que a partir de 1968 publicaria els discos dels Beatles, encara que els drets sobre els treballs dels Fab Four els seguia mantenint EMI. La seva manca d’aptituds financeres va provocar que l’empresa fos un autèntic desastre des del seus inicis fent fallida pocs mesos després de la creació. Embolics de caire econòmic que crearen més tensions encara entre els quatre Beatles.

LA CULPA DE TOT LA TÉ YOKO ONO, O NO?

Es estesa la teoria que la separació dels Beatles va ser causada per l’aparició en escena de la maquiavèl·lica i manipuladora Yoko Ono, a qui es culpa d’inculcar-li la idea d’abandonar el grup a John Lennon, i qui va provocar que la relació entre el cantant i guitarrista i la resta dels membres del grup es deteriorés fins a extrems insalvables. El cert és que només cal veure el documental Let It Be per adonar-se que la convivència no deuria ser senzilla. L’Ono es va convertir en la permanent ombra del Lennon i tant feia que el grup estigués enregistrant que allà estava ella inamovible (fins i tot, després que la Yoko Ono patís un accident de tràfic, en John Lennon va encarregar que s’instal·lés un matalàs de grans dimensions a l’estudi perquè ella pogués seguir estant present). Però també és veritat que el John feia temps que havia perdut l’interès per tot allò que estigués relacionat amb els Beatles, i que la Yoko Ono, en realitat, només li va fer veure que hi havia vida més enllà del grup. D’altra banda, la resta dels components de la banda, sembla que tampoc van acabar de comportar-se massa bé amb la japonesa, així ho reconeixia el propi Paul McCartney en una entrevista realitzada l’any 1986 on confessava que “potser l’hauríem d’haver tractat una mica millor”. Yoko Ono va nàixer a Tokio l’any 1933, filla d’una acomodada família de l’aristocràcia nipona. Educada a les millors escoles del país del sol naixent, ràpidament es va sentir fascinada pel món de la música i de les arts en general. Es va instal·lar a Nova York a la dècada dels 50 on va començar a desenvolupar la seva carrera com artista plàstica i ràpidament es va fer un nom dintre dels cercles artístics de la ciutat dels gratacels. John Lennon i Yoko Ono es van conèixer a la inauguració d’una exposició de la japonesa a la Indica Gallery de Londres el 9 de novembre de 1966 (curiosament aquells que sustenten que l’autèntic Paul McCartney és mort, daten la seva defunció el mateix 9 de novembre de 1966). En aquells moments John estava casat amb Cynthia Powell i durant els següents dos anys la parella va mantenir una relació, diguem-ne, platònica. No va ser fins l’estiu de l’any 1968 que la seva relació es va fer oficial. El John havia tornat del conegut viatge que els Beatles havien realitzat a l’Índia i la Cynthia Powell s’havia marxat de vacances a Grècia, fet que van aprofitar perquè la Yoko Ono s’instal·lés a casa del John. Durant aquells dies la parella va enregistrar el que posteriorment seria el disc Two Virgins, i, això sí, van assegurar que no van mantenir cap mena de relació sexual fins l’última nit. Al matí següent, al retornar Cynthia a la que encara era casa seva es va trobar a Yoko Ono amb la seva roba i amb un John Lennon que la va saludar amb un simple “hola”. Des d’aquell moment la Yoko Ono es convertiria amb el personatge més odiat pels fans dels Beatles.  

INTERESOS MUSICALS DIVERGENTS

Com ja hem apuntat, alguna cosa important es va perdre després que els Beatles decidissin deixar d’actuar en directe. A partir d’aquell moment, al no conviure gran part de l’any junts, cada un d’ells va anar triant el seu propi camí, i els interessos comuns es van anar disgregant, fins i tot els musicals. Paul McCartney seguia interessat en la música pop, George Harrison, molt especialment després del viatge que els Beatles van realitzar a l’Índia l’any 1968, es va començar a abocar-se en la música hindú, mentre que Lennon cada vegada es sentia més atret per l’experimentació. Si bé això, en un inici, va donar grans fruits musicals com en el disc Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, amb el temps va augmentar les discrepàncies i desconfiances entre ells, una situació que va viure un dels seus moments més crítics durant l’enregistrament de The White Album. El disc es va gravar als estudis Abbey Road entre el els mesos de maig i octubre de 1968 i es va publicar el 22 de novembre del mateix any. Les sessions de gravació van ser summament conflictives, tant que en Paul McCartney i el John Lennon estranyament coincidien a l’estudi. Tanta tensió va provocar que el George Martin, qui havia produït tots els discos del grup i per molts considerat com el cinquè Beatle marxés de vacances a la meitat de la gravació i que Ringo Starr abandonés temporalment el grup. Ringo creia que el seu rol dins de la banda era cada vegada menor, i que d’aquesta manera no valia la pena seguir formant part del grup. Amb Starr fora, McCartney es va fer càrrec de les parts de bateria al tema Back In The USSR, però finalment els tres membres restants van convèncer a Ringo Starr perquè retornés. Com a curiositat assenyalar que va ser Eric Clapton qui es va fer càrrec de les parts de guitarra del meravellós tema escrit per George Harrison While My Guitar Gently Sweeps. Però més enllà de les diferències artístiques, durant aquella època, també va aparèixer un nou focus de conflicte en un aspecte diguem-ne empresarial. Conscients de que no podien fer-se càrrec dels negocis, van decidir contractar a un nou mànager. Mentre Lennon, Harrison i Starr volien que l’escollit fos Allen Klein, aleshores mànager dels Rolling Stones, McCartney es decantava per Lee Eastman, un home de negocis de Nova York i pare de Linda Eastman, la parella i futura dona de Paul. Un fet, aquest últim, que feia desconfiar als altres membres del grup. D’aquesta manera es va triar com a representant a Allen Klein, i aquest acabaria per estafar als Beatles 5 milions de lliures. 

DEIXA-HO ESTAR

Podríem dir que a finals de l’any 1968 els Beatles eren un grup extraoficialment dissolt. Els seus membre no mantenien cap mena de relació i era impossible veure’ls plegats en cap mena d’acte. Tot i així, Paul McCartney, que era l’únic que semblava interessat en què el grup tirés endavant, va idear un nou projecte pels Beatles que consistia en la gravació d’un disc doble, un principi titulat Get Back, i la posterior presentació en directe del disc, el que hauria retornat els Beatles als escenaris més de dos anys després de decidir no tornar a actuar mai més en directe. McCartney pensava, i segurament amb gran part de raó, que els distanciament entre ells quatre es devia al fet de no actuar en directe, i que si tornaven a trepitjar els escenaris, el grup recuperaria part de la química perduda en els darrers anys. A més, tot el procés, tant de composició de noves cançons, gravació del disc i els concerts, seria filmat i publicat com a documental. Però des del mateix instant en què els quatres escarabats es van reunir a l’estudi, es va comprovar que allò era una empresa gairebé impossible d’assolir. Per dur a terme aquesta aventura els Beatles van llogar els Twickenham Studios, un estudis de cinema prou amplis perquè el grup pogués assajar i composar tranquil·lament mentre un equip de rodatge els filmava. Van començar a treballar el 2 de gener de 1969 però tal i com anteriorment havia ocorregut amb Ringo Starr, ara era George Harrison qui creia que la parella formada per Lennon i McCartney, autors de la immensa majoria del repertori del grup, menyspreaven el seu talent. Motius per creure-ho en tenia de sobres i la frustració i l’animadversió pels seus companys de grup era cada dia més gran. Finalment, després d’una baralla pujada de to amb John Lennon, el 10 de gener va anunciar que deixava el grup. El trio restant, en un principi, va seguir amb el pla establert, i fins i tot va buscar un substitut per George Harrison. L’escollit era un vell amic de la formació, Eric Clapton (qui com ja hem vist ja havia col·laborat anteriorment amb ells), però tots els membres dels Beatles sabien que si faltava algun dels membres originals no tenia sentit que el grup seguís endavant, i una setmana més tard van convèncer a Harrison perquè tornés. El guitarrista va acceptar però amb la condició que abandonessin els freds estudis de Twickenham i anessin als Apple Studios, situats al soterrani de la seu central de la seva companyia Apple Corps al número 3 de Savile Row de Londres. Fou així com els Beatles van tornar a l’activitat el 22 de gener del 69. Vuit dies més tard, el 3, els Beatles oferirien, ara sí, el seu últim concert. Es tracta de la llegendària actuació al terrat de les oficines d’Apple. Un concert que van presenciar uns pocs privilegiats, bàsicament amics, empleats i veïns dels edificis dels voltants, i que va ser aturat per la policia pel soroll que feien. La ideal inicial és que l’àlbum Get Back, es publiqués el juny d’aquell mateix any. Més tard la data de publicació es va endarrerir al setembre. Però aleshores els Beatles, i a instàncies també de Paul McCartney, havien gravat  un nou disc, Abbey Road, i la publicació de Get Back una vegada més es va posposar, ara fins el desembre. I quan semblava que tot estava preparat perquè finalment l’àlbum Get Back veies la llum del dia, els Beatles van decidir refer les mescles d’algunes de les cançons. Un tasca que va recaure en mans del productor nord-americà Phil Spector, i ara sí, el disc i la pel·lícula, rebatejats tots dos amb el títol de Let It Be, es van publicar el dia vuit de maig de 1970. Però aleshores els Beatles ja s’havien separat.

EN SOLITARI

John Lennon que havia anunciat als seus companys la seva partida el 20 de setembre de 1969, notícia que van mantenir en secret perquè, irònicament, els Beatles havien de renegociar el seu contacte amb la discogràfica EMI, va formar la Plastic Ono Band, un supergrup del que, a part d’ell i la Yoko Ono, també formarien part el baixista Klaus Voorman, artista alemany que havia dissenyat la portada del disc Revolver dels Beatles i a qui els Fab Four van conèixer durant els seus inicis a la seva etapa a Hamburg; el bateria Alan White, qui més endavant passaria formar part de Yes i l’Eric Clapton a la guitarra. El primer tema aparegut sota el nom d’aquesta formació, però, fou el single del tema ‘Give Peace A Chance’ enregistrat el juliol del 69 a l’habitació d’un hotel de Montreal en el viatge de noses de la parella. Tres mesos més tard, es publicaria el disc Live Peace In Toronto, gravat en directe, ara ja sí amb tota la formació, al Toronto Rock and Roll Festival. El desembre de 1970 s’editaria el disc John Lennon /Plastic Ono Band i a partir d’aquí vindrien àlbums com Imagine, Some Time In New York City, Mind Games o Double Fantasy. La carrera de Paul McCartney en solitari es va iniciar el 17 d’abril de 1970 amb l’aparició del disc McCartney. Un debut que va estar acompanyat de certa polèmica, ja que Macca va ser el primer en reconèixer obertament en una entrevista que els Beatles s’havien separat. Unes declaracions que va realitzar coincidint amb l’aparició del seu primer disc sense els Beatles i que als seus excompanys, especialment en John Lennon, no els va fer gaire gràcia, ja que creien que en Paul havia usat la separació del grup per treure partit personal. Des d’aleshores, la carrera musical del baixista esquerrà ha estat una muntanya russa amb discos sublims com Ram o Band On The Run o els seus notables darrers treballs d’estudi Chaos And Creation In The Backyard i Memory Almost Full, i àlbums menors. George Harrison tampoc va trigar a estrenar-se en solitari. El 27 de novembre de 1970 sortia la venda All Things Must Pass, una autèntica obra d’art i segurament el millor disc publicat mai per un dels membres dels Beatles en solitari. A aquest el van seguir obres més discretes com Living In The Material World, Dark Horse o Extra Texture, per tornar a donar mostres de la seva genialitat amb el disc homònim George Harrison i el posterior Somewhere In England. A la dècada dels 80 va tornar a gaudir de l’èxit amb Cloud Nine a més de formar part juntament amb Ray Orbison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty i Jeff Lyne del supergrup Travelling Willburys , i es va acomiadar de nosaltres amb Brainwashed, un disc aparegut poc menys d’un anys després de la seva mort. Tot i que la tasca compositiva de Ringo Starr als Beatles no va deixar de ser merament testimonial, una vegada separats, el simpàtic bateria també va provar fortuna en solitari. La seva trajectòria per lliure està plena de tota mena de moments, des de obres recomanables com Ringo i Goddnight Vienna a peces del tot oblidables com Ringo The IV o Bad Boy. Encara que després de la dissolució van haver-hi col·laboracions entre els diferents membres dels Beatles (el cas més destacat va ser en el disc Ringo, de Ringo Starr on hi van prendre part els quatre membres del grup encara que en diferents temes, i mai van coincidir en l’estudi de gravació), mai més tornaríem a veure els quatre Beatles junts. Il·lusió de poder tornar a gaudir de la seva màgia que es va esvair un trist dia del desembre de 1980 quan John Lennon va ser assassinat. Paul, Ringo i George treballarien plegats a la gravació del tema All Those Years Ago inclòs al disc de Harrison Somwhere In England de 1981, i tornarien a reunir-se l’any 1994 pel projecte Anthology,  on van gravar dos peses inèdites de Lennon, Free As A Bird i Real Love, les dues últimes cançons publicades sota el nom de The Beatles.