Wednesday, May 6, 2009

live-blogging Sgt. Pepper


To begin with, "live-blogging" means something specific, and I'm not doing it. What are you, the Internet police?*

Moving on:

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, while it is probably the Beatles' most renowned work, and while it has often been identified—probably more than any other single album—as the greatest rock'n'roll achievement of all time...

Or, no, wait. Not while: because.

Sgt. Pepper is just too damned famous. It's the act you've known for all these years; it's going to get tired, and there's going to be some backlash. First of all, it's not cool to like the thing that everybody likes: the mere fact of its universal acclaim makes it too obvious. Naming Sgt. Pepper as your favorite album (or the Beatles as your favorite band, for that matter†) will likely result in rolled eyes. Not only that, but it's actually hard to listen to, and by that I mean the same thing that I think it was Harold Bloom said about Hamlet's "To be or not to be soliloquy": you know it so well, you hardly even hear it anymore—most of the time you cannot even experience it as music because it's not separate, not coming at you from the outside. You zone out on some level.

Anyway, my MP3-playing telephone recently "shuffled" in "Getting Better," and maybe because it was shuffled in‡ it slipped under my radar and hit me real hard: "This song is fucking great." So I decided§ to listen to the Beatles' most famous LP and write about it as it plays—strict appreciation, minimal negativity. I'm going to shoot for real-time but make no promises. The thesis: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is indeed a great album—not just historically significant—and you're wrong to think they're wrong to love it.

And...GO:


"Sgt. Pepper"
Crowd noise: great beginning. Guitar and band in first few seconds of this song are just plain awesome. Paul's vocals are great, and those hard punctuating guitar blasts are great. In fact the guitar throughout is delicious.

[Hold on, I'm gonna stop and get headphones so I can do this right. Right now I've got it playing on my desktop speakers because I can't get my act together to set up my stereo right, and that does Paul's bass a great injustice. Hold, hold...]

Yeah. The bass in the left ear, guitar in the right. Audience noise...laughter? Amazing. Band identifying itself as another band—I mean, interesting, anyway, yeah? "It's wonderful to be here" is nice—"We'd like to take you home with us" (with horns) is crazy and great. I mean, that's sexual, yeah? "I don't really wanna stop the show" is classic in terms of both music and the fourth-wall diddling.


"With a Little Help..."
Great transition...guitar. Amazing bass. The bassist from Enemy Love once told me that Paul McCartney was a great bassist...I'd never really thought about it. This is Paul's album, and Paul plays the bass like a motherfucker (in this case, a good thing). The back-and-forth vocals, once deliberately defamiliarized, are weird and great. And I can't stop talking about the bass, man: listen to it in your right speaker during the chorus! It's those, what do you call 'em, hammer-ons? I don't know what I'm talking about. Great "Ah" vocals at the end.


"Lucy in the Sky..."
Never loved this song until a few years ago when a new wave of Beatlemania brought along with it some serious Lennon-worship. The vocals, man, those weird nasally vocals...and then, in the chorus, those guitar bursts in the left speaker, and the bass during the "Ah" vocals at the end of the chorus. Also, the bass in parts like after he sings "grow so incredibly high." I also like Ringo's simple drum transition from verse to chorus. John claimed this song wasn't about LSD but rather about a picture Julian drew; I don't know, that could be true, although he did say that while he was being investigated by the feds, who were hoping to kick him out of the country, and there's a big difference between being associated with drugs and actually glorifying drug use explicitly in one of your insanely popular-among-the-kids rock songs... I think the chorus is probably my favorite part, especially when it starts repeating near the end.


"Getting Better"
O.K., that guitar! That bass! Those back-up vocals ("Can't complain!"). During the chorus, I kind of can't handle it: guitar to the left of me, guitar to the right of me, and that BASS!!! Who knew I'd be gong on about the bass?? Second verse, gets so much richer in the instrumentation...perfect, seriously. And the lyrics, all at once so sunny and cheesy but also kind of dark? Reportedly John wrote the lyrics for verse three, which of course is the best. But I haven't gotten there. "Better, better, better!" "I used to be cruel to my woman: I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved." Man, he was mean, but then the song changes its scene (back)... How have I underappreciated this song? Right now I'm feeling that this is the one I'd choose to play to a space alien to illustrate how good the Beatles are. But maybe this is just the manic effects of trying to write commentary while listening to a song...which is now fading out.


"Fixing a Hole"
"Where it will go-o-o-0"...guitar. Brilliant. And the lyrics are excellently just to that side of your knowing what the hell he's talking about. "And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong I'm right...where I belong! I'm right..." Amazing. Singing along with the guitar after "there I will go"...? This is one I sing along with in the car, for sure. Does he say "Silly Beatle"? That high note on "And I still go" is classic (is that the lyric?), change in bass near the end before fading out...


"She's Leaving Home"
Never liked this one, but let's see. I think it's the harp. Try to hear it anew, like why did this rock group that just rocked my world with their electric rock-group instruments record this song? I like "kitchen." I guess I like the, what, moral ambiguity of the story? "She...is leaving," with the "We gave her most of our lives" is pretty dope, as are the string-and-vocal interplay in "She's leaving home after living alone for so many years." Song definitely gets better when it switches to strings from harp—no offense, Joanna. I can't really hear this song anymore without thinking of that Mothers song, what is it..."Mom and Dad"? O.K., I'm getting distracted. This song feels very very '60s to me, is probably why it reminds me of the amazing Mothers parody LP. "Meeting a man from the motor trade" is sort of great...can't tell whether I love it or hate it. The "She's having fun" vs. "What did we do that was wrong?" part is heavy-handed. I'm sorry, I said I'd appreciate instead of criticizing. Um...nice ending in the left speaker?


"For the Benefit..."
Not my favorite John Lennon track. This is one of the relatively rare McCartney-dominated Beatles albums; I don't think John was having a great time these days. (Or was having too much of a great time?) I do like "Mrs. K and H assure the public," the way the words sound..."Mis-sis K-and-A-cha-sure..." I like the bass during the "splendid time is guaranteed for all" part. I guess my least favorite parts of this album are all the extravagant orchestral parts...sorry, Mr. Martin. I do like the weird creepy very-end of this one, though.


"Within You, Without You"
O.K., so I probably would have skipped these three songs if I hadn't set myself to this task. I do like the percussion in the beginning of this one, to the left, before the singing starts...and the citar on the right parallel to the vocals is reasonably cool. I mean, this song does sound amazing, and I guess if I'd never heard anything like it I'd be impressed. It just sort of feels immediately dated, like more of an experiment than a song in itself...but I think that's actually not right: it's a pretty cool song if you look beyond the arguably pretentious instrumentation. I like the "we could save the world" part, and the "if they only knew" part...and actually the next part with the strings coming in (those are strings coming in, yeah?) is pretty good. I also do like the verbal play / double-entendre of "life goes on within you and without you." The string–citar back-and-forth is pretty cool, particualrly when the citar starts going, you know, "rrn-rrn-rrn, rrn-rrn, rrn-rrn-rrn, rrn-rrn"...? Then you think the song's over, and it isn't, and you're maybe a little disappointed, except that it comes back in in a cool way with that amazing percussion again... I'm gonna do a quick little check, here: yeah, this is among the top 10 longest Beatles songs.


What the...?! Oh, ha. Because I clicked on the "Time" column I went straight from "Within You, Without You" to "Street Wheels" by Land of Talk. Hold on a second...


"When I'm Sixty-Four"
Bass. Bass. Bass. The song is super goofy and doofy, but the bass is where it's at...FOCUS ON THE BASS. Vocals, too. With the wind instruments it feels particularly sillly, but... Back-up vocals excellent. Instrumentation following "I could stay with you": satisfying. I like "mending a fuse"; "Sunday mornings go for a ride" is classic. "Every summer..."—this part is great. "We shall scrimp and save": classic. Also: "Vera, Chuck, and Dave." Is there a band called Vera, Chuck, and Dave? Why not? I do like the wind instrument, whatever it is, during "Indicate precisely what you mean to say"; also, the lyric, "Indicate precisely what you mean to say." Love "Hoo!"


"Lovely Rita"
Right from the start, amazing. "Ah, ah-ahhhhh..." And the bass! Why does no one talk about the bass? "Lovely Rita, meter MAID...!" RrrrrRRAA!!! Bass, bass, bass, holy crap. And is that on the right somebody just making "shka-shka" noises with his mouth? Back-up vocals: brilliant, during the chorus. Also: "RITA!" Classic piano, "Lady Madonna" doesn't really add anything to what happens after the chorus here. Great date scene: "Took her home, I nearly made it, sitting on a sofa with a sister or two"—what? Brilliant. "Love-ly Ri-ta, mee-tah maid..." And then that bizarre part near the end? Seriously? With the piano and the heavy breathing? Super trippy, super '60s, easy to forget it's part of this song? Bass at the end, I mean, come on.


"Good Morning, Good Morning"
Underrated, one of my favorites in high school. Drums: great. Bass: great (by this point a no-brainer). And here I don't mind the horns. But my favorite part, traditionally (when I was younger) was the guitar. (We'll see.) Change in rhythm for "Everyone knows there's nothing doing," great part. I like the description of the change in mood. "Nothing has changed, it's still the same"—that's the old school, as if the Beatles are still chilling around Liverpool? Ah, yes, guitar: it's that kind of weird, distant guitar solo thing like what you hear in "Sympathy for the Devil," somehow much nastier and more amazing than a lot of "bigger" guitar solos—you know, these ones go completely silent at the end of a phrase, no echoing or fading out or lingering or feedback... Don't really need the animal sounds, but who cares?


"Sgt. Pepper" again
Love the guitar thing that transitions into this one. Love the drum intro, too, sampled by the Beastie Boys. Great guitar... This song is better than the first one—everyone agree? Rocks harder. "We're sorry, but it's time to go"—and yet they don't go: they go into one of the best songs they ever recorded. Key change! "We'd like to thank you once again." Don't mention it. Harmony. Guitar!—same deal as in "Good Morning." Great bass and vocals in that last "Hearts...Club...Band" part.


"A Day in the Life"
Oh boy. Guitar...piano...bass... And John singing at his very best, in my opinion. Man is this song good. This one it's particularly hard for me to hear afresh, and when I do I feel like I might start sobbing or something. Apparently John wrote most of it, and Paul wrote the "Woke up...got out of bed..." part; that's usually the way they collaborated after the first couple of years when they really collaborated at all—true, too, of...what was it, "Baby You're a Rich Man"? I'm getting distracted. Orchestral build-up, amazing, scary, the ultimate tension and release: at the end of it you really could use a little Paul McCartney sugary pop genius. "I noticed I was late [hah-hah-hah]..." "I had a smoke," then of course he goes into a dream and there's the amazing "Ah" vocals, and they're drifting around from right to left to right again, dreamily... And we're back with John, a little more upbeat, not unaffected by the trip into pure-pop-ville (pop. Paul)... And the crazy scary build-back-up, this time not taking us to a happy morning in London(?) but rather to this incredible...BOMMMM. My drama teacher in high school told me that in college they put this record on and listened real careful and as this guitar chord faded out, all the noise around them (Wesleyan) faded in, and it was like the Beatles were easing them back into the real world...


I'm not sure this dog whistle and cut-up sound was on the LP because I never heard it until I got the CD. I sort of hate it. I might tell my computer to cut it out. But apparently the Beatles insisted it was pure gibberish, which is interesting because I always, always, always hear it, very clearly, as "Never to see any other way"—which is kind of funny, when you think about it.


So...yeah: cut out a few songs in the middle, and what you've got is a pretty damn-near-perfect album. Listen to it again.

DO IT.




* Dr. Math, in his Bruce Wayne incarnation, suggested to me that "internet" ought to be spelled with a capital I. At first I scoffed at the idea, but then I found that neither the OED nor the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language lists the lowercase-I spelling even as an alternative (as they do for certain words, although now I can't remember which...probably something German), and I was chastened.
† Interestingly, though, I think you can get away with naming the Beatles as long as you shy away from this particular album. If I say, "I like the Beatles' early stuff—you know, the stuff that's not supposed to be as good," that might get me some credit. Naming Revolver might even be too obvious and therefore uncool at this point—Rubber Soul's probably safer—but something like "the John Lennon songs on the white album" or "Side A of Help!" is particularly hard to categorize. (My own favorites are the John Lennon songs on the white album and Side A of Help! Bow before me.)
‡ ...although I have some negative shit to say about shuffle, coming soon...
§ Also partly responsible for this decision is this amazing blog, about which I hope to write, too, before long.

5 comments:

The Crow said...

Short Round,
I think I'm just gonna go through and read all your Lennon/McCartney tagged posts and comment on them.

Another brilliant post. I had a similar experience recently when my wife bought me the newly remastered stereo versions of The Beatles canon, and I went through and listened to every one of them from start to finish with new ears.

(I actually spent most of January and February posting about them [the only album I didn't really cover was Yellow Submarine mostly because it sucks], if you're interested).

Two things I have to whole-heartedly agree with you on:

1.) Paul is the man on bass. If you haven't already (since this post is two years old) you should go back and listen to everything from A Hard Day's Night on and just listen to the bass. He was brilliant.

2.) "Getting Better" has become through the years, I think, my favorite Beatles song. It's so catchy and iconic, and just...brilliant.

Misopogon said...

I was about to forward this to "The Crow" until I noticed he had already commented.

I also planned to bring up when we went through this same thing with Led Zeppelin.

Intellectually justifying appreciation of things that already receive widespread appreciation is a bit of a cottage* industry at the Shire Reckoning Publishing House. Of course, Beatles appreciation has been a regular topic.

Unfortunately I don't think he ever posted a legendary battle over e-mail between Rubber Soul (as represented by Misopogon) and Revolver, and its (far better in any music discussion) champions Crow and Vince Neilstein.

-------------

* "hole" might be appropriate than "cottage."

-------------

I'd like to see you go more into this concept of things that were once super-awesome then because un-cool because they they got so hum-drum it was trite, and then got taken out of cool circulation to such a degree that it became cool again.

Know what I mean?

I think this is going to be a key question in the ultimate word on what is cool for Generation X/Y (since we're now getting to the age when this becomes final).

The greatest challenge in resurrecting an old cultural phenomenon is separating those of who came back to it out of honest and earnest rediscovery from those who are so clueless that they name "Beatles" as their favorite band, or "Star Wars" as their favorite movies, because these are established as cool (i.e. they haven't learned yet about the trite/dorky period).

I mention this because I have personally done A SHIT TON LOT of this, e.g. re-crafting Episodes I-III of Star Wars, the obvious work of a post-post-modernist, not a modernist, right?

Ultimately, does it matter more that hyper-intellectual Hal Incandenza and the ingenuous Mario reached the same conclusions, or is there importance in the manner it was accomplished (after all, reason produced Orin and Avril, and the sincerity of James caused all sorts of problems)?

And what happens when genuine re-appreciation of a post-popular object of disdain becomes popularly realized as a device for establishing post-pop cred?

Short Round said...

Irony: we get here into all sorts of problems involving irony, where taste blurs into irony. (See this not especially deft tweet.) Basically we start getting into the territory of postmodernism, or at least the slice or incarnation of postmodernism that I've most been exposed to, the postmodernism of fiction writers. Umberto Eco framed it in his Name of the Rose afterword as a question of reclaiming lost abilities—things we can't say anymore because they've been said too much—by basically putting them in scare quotes.

I think I believe that, in the end, any of us is capable, no matter how far gone we are down the spiral of ironic convolution, of knowing, ultimately—feeling—what we like: in other words, no matter how complicated and self-conscious our tastes (and our personalities) become, there still does exist such a thing—buried deep though it may be—as what we want and how we feel. But I'm not sure I'm right: not that I'm not sure we're capable of it, but that I'm not sure I believe it. (I'm also not sure I think it matters.)

As for Star Wars prequel apologism, have you seen this bullshit?

P.S. I think I like Rubber Soul better than Revolver but admit to inadequate knowledge/appreciation of either. I've meant for years to correct that. Both albums have songs I find it difficult to sit through.

Misopogon said...

Seen it, responded to it with Star Wars-level epicity.*

-------------------

* I made that last word up, but if Gen Y's gonna ever have a chance, we need this adverb!

-------------------

Deep down, deep down, deep down. That's the real trick, isn't it? Because we know deep down we actually like or dislike everything, or we're supposed to at least be able to access those feelings. But often, we don't. And we get incredibly scared that we actually ARE Hal Incandenza and don't really have any feelings under there, or do but they're so buried under societal shit that we can never get at them.**

-----------------

** I do not recommend this line of thinking for shroomers.

-----------------

Short Round said...

Yeah...I actually think the "deep down" concept might be illusory. I think we're capable of feeling without having to go all that deep. Depth might not be the appropriate metaphor, is what I'm saying—might be more horizontal than vertical, say...?