If The Beatles Hadn’t Broken Up, Part 2 of 8

Having had so much fun with the first installment of this self-indulgent nonsense, I went ahead and constructed a fictional Beatles album that might have been released in 1971.

Wild Life
side one:

  1. Jealous Guy (Lennon) – Familiar to the other Beatles as ‘Child Of Nature’ from the 1968 Kinfauns demo sessions, ‘Jealous Guy’ was rewritten as a quiet admission of imperfection from John to Yoko. (Though Imagine would open with that title track, I find ‘Jealous Guy’ to be a far more effective opener.)
  2. Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey (McCartney) – Paul would write two lengthy “production” numbers on Wild Life – ‘The Back Seat Of My Car’ and this, yet another installment in what John would derisively put down as “Paul’s granny shit”.
  3. Wah-Wah (Harrison) – This thinly-veiled swipe at Paul was written following their well-documented “I’ll play what you want me to play, or I won’t play at all” argument in the Let It Be film, so it might be a little difficult imagining this gaining a spot on a Beatles album. But it’s such a powerful rock song that I can’t imagine it not on an album, so here it is.
  4. Imagine (Lennon) – A well-known and now famous plea for unified, worldwide peace – though John would later find its acceptance so astonishing, as it’s “anti-religious, anti-nationalistic, anti-conventional, anti-capitalistic, but because it’s sugar-coated, it’s accepted” – would probably have retained its simplistic arrangement within the Beatles.
  5. I Don’t Want To Be A Soldier, Mama, I Don’t Want To Die (Lennon) – Alluding to John’s increasing interest in left-wing radical politics, this lengthy diatribe against the Vietnam War would probably have been met with some opposition from the others – and I could even imagine John wanting to be bold and opening the album with it – but Paul especially liked to rattle the cage from time to time.

side two:

  1. Ram On (McCartney) – Heralding the more acoustic/country-inspired side two, ‘Ram On’ was a callback to ‘Wild Honey Pie’, and was performed entirely by Paul, with the ukulele being the dominant instrument.
  2. Early 1970 (Starkey) – Much like ‘Ram On’, Ringo performed this humorous and slightly self-deprecatory ditty almost entirely by himself with some help from George.
  3. Heart Of The Country (McCartney) – Extolling the virtues of getting away from the hustle and bustle of the city and to live a simpler life in the country, this is a light and breezy acoustic song that recalls some of the more laid-back moments from the “White Album”.
  4. Apple Scruffs (Harrison) – Written about the infamous group of female fans who took fanaticism to a great degree – Paul wrote ‘She Came In Through The Bathroom Window’ after one of them swiped a pair of pants and a framed photograph – this song features some wheezy harmonica, which ties in nicely with…
  5. Oh Yoko! (Lennon) – …this ode to Yoko, which finds John in a romantic mood. Nicky Hopkins returns for some delightful piano tinkling.
  6. Ram On (reprise) (McCartney) – A reprise of ‘Ram On’, nicely tying together the more relaxed Side Two.
  7. The Back Seat Of My Car (McCartney) – This production number – “the ultimate teenage number,” as Paul later called it – reignited the playful creative rivalry with the Beach Boys. With several musical shifts, orchestral arrangements, and layers and layers of backing vocals, ‘The Back Seat Of My Car’ is an obvious album closer.

Singles:
‘Jealous Guy’ / ‘Early 1970′
‘Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey’ / ‘Apple Scruffs’
‘Imagine’ / ‘The Back Seat Of My Car’

In conclusion: I like the flow of this a little album a little more than I do When Four Knights Come To Town, and I especially like the idea that the second side would be linked, with country-ish sounding songs tied together by Paul’s unconventional links, and the concluding production number – a sort of nod back to Sgt. Pepper and Abbey Road.


If The Beatles Hadn’t Broken Up, Part 1 of 8

A little over two years ago, I wrote an entry about a “lost” Beatles album that was clearly a barely disguised album of mixes. It was creative and almost listenable, but the hokey story about inter-dimensional time travel destroyed a lot of its credibility. In that entry, I recalled a website that I frequented at the turn of the millennium, but assumed it had been lost forever to the vast repository that is the Internet – but thanks to some particularly industrious searching on my part, I finally found it, and was transported immediately back to 1998, when I wished that I had all of the albums the author was talking about.

Now that I’m older, and the availability of music has increased exponentially, I’m finally able to revisit this idea, and come up with some of my own albums, had the Beatles not broken up in 1970. Looking around on other WordPress sites, I see this was also addressed by Allyn Gibson, who offered up a fascinating account of what a fictional Beatles album would have looked like in 1970. But I wanted to give it a shot myself, and not only do what I thought would have been a good fictional Beatles album, but also continue on throughout the 1970s and early 1980s.

First, the assumptions: Get Back was released as intended in March/April 1969, and Abbey Road followed in October 1969. (The singles for these were ‘Get Back’ / ‘Don’t Let Me Down’ in March, ‘Let It Be’ / ‘You Know My Name’ in May, ‘The Ballad Of John And Yoko’ / ‘Old Brown Shoe’ in July, and ‘Something’ / ‘Come Together’ in September.) After working through their infamous differences, the Beatles took some time off, wrote a bunch of songs – Paul escaped to Scotland and later released ‘Another Day’ / ‘Oh Woman, Oh Why’, John released solo singles (‘Cold Turkey’ and ‘Instant Karma!’), Ringo released two covers albums, and George toured with Eric Clapton; all four got their creative juices out, bitched at each other in the press a bit, but ultimately realized the sum was greater than the parts, and got the band back together to work on some further albums.

I realize this is borderline musical fanfic, and for that I apologize, but it is fun to imagine what could have been. So, let’s get right to work!

When Four Knights Come To Town
side one:

  1. Oo You (McCartney) – I liked Gibson’s suggestion that ‘Oo You’ sounds like an album opener, with Paul goofing around and mumbling, “More guitar”. It’s an inconsequential song, but its gritty production and throwaway lyric would balance some of the weightier stuff that was coming up.
  2. It Don’t Come Easy (Starkey) – The first “real” song, and a deserving number two spot. Ringo’s songwriting had gotten better over the years, so much so that ‘It Don’t Come Easy’ (cowritten with George, but credited solely to Ringo) was released as Ringo’s first Beatles song, with ‘My Sweet Lord’ as a double A-side. (I’m aware this wasn’t released until 1971, but hey, it’s my fantasy, dammit!)
  3. Remember (Lennon) – Lyrically this is a drastic comedown from the previous track, but its boogie shuffle keeps the tempo up, with some spirited piano from John and particularly propulsive drumming from Ringo.
  4. Every Night (McCartney) – Paul admits his preference of a life of ease: slacking off during the day and getting shitfaced at night. This goes against his workmanlike attitude, of course, but any opportunity to blow off some steam is a good thing – until he alters his position with “Every night I want to stay home / And be with you”.
  5. Look At Me (Lennon) – This stark confessional of John and Yoko’s relationship and how he views himself was performed entirely by John, much like ‘Julia’ on The Beatles (the same time period from which the song dates).
  6. Isn’t It A Pity (Harrison) – George attempts an updated ‘Hey Jude’, with interesting results. An obvious side closer, with its drawn-out fade-out, ‘Isn’t It A Pity’ was written back in 1966 but rejected, and was tried out again during the Get Back sessions; turns out the third time was the charm.

side two:

  1. Love (Lennon) – With John on acoustic guitar and Phil Spector on piano, ‘Love’ is the perfect introduction to side two, with its lengthy piano intro and simplistic take on the reality of romance.
  2. My Sweet Lord (Harrison) – George gets religious, and the results are inspiring – but unfortunately he got into a bit of trouble with the songwriters of ‘He’s So Fine’. Despite that, it would have been an obvious candidate to not only be recorded by the Beatles, but also released as a single – as a double A-side with ‘It Don’t Come Easy’, perhaps.
  3. Man We Was Lonely (McCartney) – Written following some inter-band bitching, this simplistic, homespun song assures listeners that, despite the Beatles’ differences, “now we’re fine all the while”.
  4. I Found Out (Lennon) – Disenchanted with peace and love and Hare Krishna, John offers this simplistic blues riffer that was bound to piss off the other three Beatles.
  5. All Things Must Pass (Harrison) – From the basic to the bombastic, ‘All Things Must Pass’ is one of George’s loveliest songs; bathed in echo and ringing acoustic guitars, the song leads perfectly into…
  6. Maybe I’m Amazed (McCartney) – …a beautiful out-and-out love song written about Linda. I agree with Gibson that ‘Maybe I’m Amazed’ is the best possible album closer, and serves as a wonderful double wallop with ‘All Things Must Pass’. Out of the ashes of despair comes love.

Singles:
‘It Don’t Come Easy’ / ‘My Sweet Lord’ (double A-side)
‘Maybe I’m Amazed’ / ‘Look At Me’

In conclusion: Not a perfect album, of course, given Paul’s homespun solo performances, John’s bare-bones primal therapy-inspired confessionals, and George’s Wall of Sound production numbers, but these contrasting sounds bounce off each other nicely. (The title, for anyone interested, was the working title of Ringo’s ‘Early 1970′.) Most importantly, I had a lot of fun doing this, and it’s a really interesting mix of songs – so keep an eye out for my next installment!


It’s A Helluva Town

Every blogger in the world is going to have some kind of memory about the horrific events that happened 10 years ago, and, because I shared my own back in 2009, I’m going to talk about something a little different.

I’ve had the good fortune of being within a commutable distance to New York City for all of my life, and I’ve often taken this for granted. I fell in love with the city back in the autumn of 1996, when my mom took my sister and me to see Cats over a long weekend. She decided we needed some culture, and, because she could afford it, opted to book us a room at the prestigious Plaza Hotel. Much to our annoyance, the room they originally gave us contained a king-sized bed, which wouldn’t have been a problem, except I was at the age when sleeping in the same bed as my mother was a pretty horrific thought. So, she complained, and they promptly moved us to the Frank Lloyd Wright suite. As I was a budding architect at the time, having spent hours meticulously drawing floor plans and even coming up with planned communities and neighborhoods, this was a huge thrill to me – though I recall being disappointed that the bathroom didn’t have a phone in it, as our first room did.

We took the entire weekend to see the sights of New York City, and, because I had been reading up a lot on John Lennon at the time (having filled the filing cabinets of my brain with information about the Beatles while they were still together, I moved on to their solo careers), I was fascinated with his fascination of the city. I wanted to know everything about it, and my mom encouraged me to soak it all up. (There’s a picture somewhere of a teenaged me standing on a rock in Central Park, my arms outstretched, and doing my best Lennon impression with blue-tinted circular sunglasses.)

Ever since that weekend, I’ve taken every possible opportunity to go back, whether it was to soak up some culture and see some musicals, do a little light, touristy sightseeing, have a laugh at tapings of Late Night With Conan O’Brien, The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report, or to act like a drunken buffoon at a friend’s birthday party at Lucky Strike Lanes. Every time I’ve been here, New York City has treated me wonderfully, and, for the last two years, I’ve been doing my damnedest to get into that city on a permanent basis. Suburban Philadelphia may always be my home, but there’s an alluring romanticism about New York City that is irresistible. I will move there, dammit; it’s just a matter of time.

I can’t offer any pithy comments or deep, life-affirming observations on what happened 10 years ago today. I didn’t see the towers fall, and I was lucky enough for it to not personally affect me – all of my friends, family, and loved ones are okay. New York is okay, too; walking around the city yesterday, it was a little eerie how not crowded Times Square was, and how relatively sparse the sidewalks were. Walking around Penn Station to get to Central Park, Meredith and I were alarmed – but not necessarily surprised – to see soldiers with loaded rifles, and the streets a little more dotted with police cars and fire engines. But the real vibe of the city was in the last showing of Hair, which I saw for the first time a few weeks ago and was, quite honestly, impressed with. Meredith and I wanted to see the last night of the run on Broadway, which is always a special show, and the venue was practically humming with peace and love. It was right where I wanted to be at that moment, and no documentary on the joining together of the people of New York City in the days following 9/11 will ever compare to experiencing it first-hand.


Deadlines Go Whoosh – For Real, This Time

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere on this blog, my non-Sound Round writing endeavors have been increasing steadily over the past few months, and while that was simply down to personal aspirations and goals established either based on conversations with friends or completely arbitrarily, things have just gotten real.

Back in 2007, I published a book called Queen: Complete Works, which sold well but wasn’t promoted all that much. Frankly, I was glad, because while I’m extraordinarily proud of the fact that one of my dreams came true, it was an exhausting process and the last thing I ever wanted to do was to write another book. Of course, that’s changed, and all I want to do nowadays is write; I suppose I figured that if the book wasn’t a success, I wouldn’t have to put myself through that process again. But then, after awhile, I realized I actually missed that process, and so went on to subject myself to more torture by working steadily on a similar book on Elvis Costello’s music.

And so things puttered along nicely, and I genuinely believed that my first book would remain a true rarity, never to be reprinted, until earlier this week. This year is Queen’s 40th anniversary, and also marks 20 years since Freddie Mercury departed this mortal coil, and, sensing a golden opportunity, the publishing company I’m working with now contacted me to announce their intent to run a second edition of Queen: Complete Works. This is especially exciting to me, because this is a new (to me) company and a fresh start with a book that is in dire need of an update.

What does this mean for me? Well, I have a tight deadline to work with again, and the fire has been lit under my ass; I have four months to get this presentable and ready to go, meaning a lot of other hobbies have to take a backseat. This, unfortunately, includes my blogging activities, and, because Sound Round gets most of my attention these days, it also means I’ll now be paying the least amount of attention to it. (Reason being is, I’m already writing extensively about music, so any other blogs I may have will be a nice distraction from that.)

This means I’m leaving several projects in the lurch, most importantly the continuation of my Best of 2010 list, but also concert reviews for the Dum Dum Girls show I saw last weekend, and upcoming concerts for the Pains of Being Pure at Heart (March 31st), Elvis Costello (May 19th), and possibly Weezer (May 20th). I’m trying to get my girlfriend to write these reviews for me, but she has so far been reluctant to do so. (Don’t worry, I’ll work on her.)

But don’t cry for Sound Round, faithful viewers, for it will be back – all in good time. For now, I wish you a fond farewell.


Wave A White Flag

Unsurprisingly, as I worked more and more on my book, I realized that my finish date of December 15th was far too ambitious. Well, it could have worked, but it would have meant no sleep and no social life for a month, and I would have been alright with that too, except I have, y’know, a job. But I found myself rushing through entries just because I wanted to get something done, which really isn’t the way to work. I’d rather miss my (arbitrary and self-imposed) deadline and have something of quality instead of try to get everything done in a mad panic, and have the quality slip.

So yeah, that whole December 15th thing isn’t gonna happen.

HOWEVER, I have a new, more realistic finish date for my book, which is February 13th, 2011. That gives me two months to work at my leisure, and maybe even write an album review or two in the meantime. But I make no promises!


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