Saturday, September 26, 2009

Happy 40th Birthday, Abbey Road!



The last few weeks have witnessed a deluge of Beatle related media interest, and little wonder given that Apple Corps, the company set up by the Beatles 1967, finally got around to digitally re-mastering the bands entire catalogue, and that the band themselves have become video game stars.
Surely, many people must be asking; “Won’t the Beatles just go away?” seemingly not.
In fact such has been the success of Apple Corps under the captain-ship of the late Neil Aspinall, these days ‘The Beatles’ are as much brand as they are band. However, before we close the Beatle scrapbook on a year which began with the 40th anniversary of the Apple rooftop gig, the last time the band performed together in public, there is one more anniversary of note; September 26th sees the 40th anniversary of the release of the Beatles last recorded studio album, Abbey Road.
The final Beatles album is a conundrum in itself. The album belies the relationships between the band members at the time; written and recorded amidst arguably popular music’s most bitter and vicious of divorce proceedings. How then, does the record look and sound so fresh and positive, so effervescent? The answer according to the legend is simple; the collective knowledge that this was the final curtain, allowed the band to put the daggers down and ‘get back’ to what they truly did best, making music. For a little while, business meetings, publishing squabbles, and managerial contracts were forgotten; no punches would be thrown at each other, or each others wives, and any bricks that would soon be thrown through each others living room windows were placed, temporarily, back into the boots of cars.
The recent 40th anniversary of Iain Macmillan’s famous photograph gracing the cover of the album reminds us that there are actually two ‘Abbey Road’s’; the songs and the album cover itself. Possibly more iconic than the Sgt Pepper’s album cover two years previously, the image of the four Beatles on a zebra crossing has received homage from artists such as Booker T and The MG’s, The Red Hot Chill Peppers, Phil Collins, Paul McCartney himself, as well as Sponge Bob Square Pants and The Simpsons.
The album packaging adds greatly to the evident optimism reflected on the songs within, and yet at the same time offers some suggestive pictorial evidence of the end itself for the group. Much has been written about the cover photograph, such as the four walking away from Abbey Road Studios (then called EMI Studios, and renamed after the release of the album) perhaps representing the bands finale. Indeed if we were to borrow some fanciful observations from the ‘Paul is dead’ believers, we could even discern that the dress code of all four members, John – Minister, Ringo – Undertaker, Paul – Deceased, George – Gravedigger, represents a funeral not for the supposedly dead McCartney, but rather for the band itself.
One thing that is evident about this record is its refusal to date; unlike the psychedelic rock sounds of Revolver or Sgt Peppers, these songs don’t fit as easily into the context of the Beatles ‘1960’s sound’, they sound different, more tightly constructed, with a glossy production which leaps out of the speakers, even after 40 years.
Lennon’s opener ‘Come Together’ is an exhilarating rocker, featuring his trade mark Lewis Carroll influenced, nonsense-verse styled lyrics. During the opening bars, and the verse restarts, Lennon can clearly be heard whispering ‘Shoot Me’ behind the drum and bass parts. Although possibly a reference to his heroin habit, perhaps he had premonitions of his own fate. The previous year he recorded a track on the ‘White Album’ with a chorus exclaiming ‘Happiness is a Warm Gun (Bang Bang, Shoot Shoot), and during his last interview on December 8th 1980, only hours before his death, he was asked, “How do you think you’ll go?”, to which he replied; “I’ll probably be popped off by some loony”. The individual performances by all four are dazzling. McCartney’s effortlessly cool bass sliding up the fret board, the perfect partner to Starr's busy hi-hat and tom-tom phrases, his drums sounding louder and more refined than on any previous Beatle recording. During the Playboy interviews of 1980, Lennon positively beamed with pride; “It’s my favourite Beatles [Lennon] track… […]…I’d buy it.”
Track two is Harrisons magnum opus; ‘Something’. Conceded to be the best song on the album by Lennon, heralded as the greatest love song ever written by Frank Sinatra, and covered by greats such as; Smokey Robinson, James Brown, Tony Bennet, Ray Charles, Elvis Presley and Sinatra himself among others, Harrison had finally stepped out of the shadow of Lennon-McCartney. Rumoured to have been written about his failing relationship with his wife, the actress and model Pattie Boyd (about whom his friend Eric Clapton would later write ‘Layla’ and ‘Wonderful Tonight’) ‘Something’ is a beautiful love song, swaying from sighs of resignation to the optimism and hope of the dramatic and upbeat middle eighth; “You're asking me will my love grow?”, “I don’t know, I don’t know” Harrison screams in response. The middle eighth takes off, and floats majestically into Harrison’s tender guitar solo, augmented by rousing strings, before being brought back to earth gently for the final reprise of Harrison’s dilemma. Again, the musicianship is magnificent. McCartney’s bass is more lead guitar than bottom backing, adding significantly to the mood of the song. Starr’s drumming is inspired, with just the right amount of expressive fills, nothing overdone. While Harrison’s solo is his finest to grace a Beatle track. His first Beatles ‘A’ side, the track won him an Ivor Novello award, and hit the number one spot in America, although it only peaked at number four in his native Britain. The lyric “He shoot Coca-Cola” on the single's other A-side (the aforementioned ‘Come Together’) earned it a BBC ban for inappropriate product-placement.
McCartney’s first track on the album, according to the running order, is a hit and miss affair. ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’ tried the group's collective patience during the Let it Be sessions, with McCartney’s fastidious attempts at perfecting, what the others deemed a joke track. Indeed McCartney’s snigger during the “...Writing fifty times...” line is allegedly the result of Lennon mooning him from the control room. That said, rivals must have looked on with envy. It’s a measure of the group’s talent and diversity when a track viewed by the majority of the band as a mere annoyance could still be so insanely catchy.
McCartney gets down to business proper with ‘Oh Darling’, a noisy little rocker in the style of a fifties doo wop classic. Complete with trade mark harmonies, wild piano and some nifty chaos on the drums from Starr, ‘Oh Darling’ allowed McCartney to roll out his ‘Little Richard’ voice once more. His vocal is without doubt the most impressive on the album. Is McCartney declaring dependence on his new wife, or is his ‘Darling’ the group he’s been with for the past thirteen years and can’t fathom life without? The lyric “If you leave me, I’ll never make it alone” seems to provide an uncanny prophecy. Its author suffered a bout of deep and dark depression following the group’s demise.
‘Octopus’s Garden’ has more depth and sincerity than is initially obvious. One of Starr's rare compositions, the song has some interesting drumming, pretty jangly guitar from Lennon, and more than enough country and blues styled guitar parts thrown in from George to allow it to hold its own. With its meaning described as ‘cosmic’ and ‘peaceful’ by Harrison, are the lyrics a subconscious attempt at wishing away the troubles? ‘We could be warm, below the storm’. Despite its light and disposable vibe, the sound effects constructed to make the backing vocals sound submerged are pure inspiration.
‘I Want You (She’s so heavy)’, a dark and noisy affair only Lennon could produce, provides, along with ‘Come Together’, the perfect counterweight to the rest of the albums material and saves it from sounding lightweight or banal. To quote George Martin, “John was the vinegar to Paul’s virgin olive oil”. The track could be interpreted as an extension of his desperate pleas for Ono to reciprocate his love and devotion, which he first set forth in ‘Don’t Let Me Down’.
The second of Harrison’s two tracks on the album is the joyously optimistic ‘Here Comes the Sun’. Where ‘Something’ is bitter-sweet and downbeat with a flurry of optimism, ‘Here Comes the Sun’ is unashamedly prophetic and optimistic. Unfortunately, the bright message of ‘its [going to be] alright’ is aimed not at the band, but at the authors future beyond the Beatles. This is indeed an assertion of independence and optimism from a man who when once asked what it was like to be a Beatle, replied; “I don’t know, what’s it like not being a Beatle?”
Starr again provides some song-saving drumming, providing the glue on the daring middle eighth and gelling incredibly well with handclaps to land the track back down perfectly in time for the last verse. Harrison’s moog synthesizer and up front acoustic guitar help to pull this record sonically out if its sixties context and, ‘All You Need Is Love aside, little else in the Beatles catalogue can match this for sheer positivity.
The very last track recorded for Abbey Road, and the last track the four Beatles ever recorded together was Lennon’s ‘Because’, a surreal trip through stirring images of nature, which sounds as much the work of Yoko Ono as it does her husband. Nine voices in all make up the complex harmony which Lennon/McCartney/Harrison all admired in retrospect, and are accompanied by a harpsichord, guitar and synthesiser playing the reverse chords of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
In ‘You Never Give Me Your Money’, McCartney is the first to broach the painful issues confronting the band. The track, more suite than song, meanders (not unlike ‘Something’) from resigned sadness and dissatisfaction to relief and optimism; ‘Oh that magic feeling, nowhere to go’, ‘One sweet dream came true today’, and ‘Step on the gas and wipe that tear away’. McCartney was admitting defeat and facing a future without his pals. The song begins the final ‘long medley’ that winds up the album, although not before running through multiple styles and going out with a loud bang. Lennon’s ‘Sun King’, toys with Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Albatross’, while throwing more images of happiness and high spirits into the overall mix, before fading into ‘Mean Mr Mustard’; and the record is off on the home straight.
Mean Mr Mustard is a throwback to the tongue and cheek pop that made Sgt Pepper’s great which plods along carelessly before bursting into the huge acoustic chords of ‘Polythene Pam’. Lennon reverts to the very thick scouse accent his Aunt Mimi tried so hard to knock out of him, while the drums, bass and acoustic guitars all collide perfectly to make for a chaotic and thunderous romp through the bands working class days in Liverpool, complete with Yeah, Yeah Yeah’s stolen from ‘She Loves You’, a throwback to fresh faced days of innocence. Seamless and a pure joy are the meeting of ‘Polythene Pam’ and ‘She Came in Through the Bathroom Window’, another electrifying rocker and the subject of sneaky kleptomaniac female fans, who’ll stop at nothing for a piece of McCartney.
‘Golden Slumbers’ announces intermission with a gentle piano and vocal intro by McCartney, putting his own melody to a seventeenth century nursery rhyme. Starr’s bursting drums pave the way for one of McCartney’s most emotional and hair raising vocals yet; before Starr’s continual pounding drops us into ‘Carry That Weight’, complete with a reprise of ‘You Never Give Me Your Money’. In ‘Carry That Weight’ a group chorus declares that whatever they do from here on as individuals, they are all going to ‘carry that weight’ of being Beatles with them forever, nothing they do as solo artists will eclipse their careers over the past seven years.
This is it, ‘The End’, time for one last jam; Starr breaks his own rule and finally commits a loud and raucous drum solo to tape, his lead is picked up by his band mates who each slam their way through three, two-bar guitar solos’ in rotating order of McCartney-Harrison-Lennon in a heavy rock ’n’ roll crescendo (which is surely the inspiration for the end sequence of the Stone Rose’s ‘I am the Resurrection’) echoing their roots, before finally winding it all up with a little ‘Beatles’ wisdom; “and in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make”, pretty simple really.
McCartney’s previously discarded segment, ‘Her Majesty’ makes a comeback from the cutting room floor, echoing Lennon’s two fingered salute to the British establishment six years earlier, and thus, after opening the Beatles recording career with the energetic ‘1-2-3-FAW!’ of ‘I Saw Her Standing There’, McCartney bookends the Beatles career on tape…or does he? Less than one year later, ‘Let it Be’, the album he would come to detest was released, and the last track on side two fades out with John Lennon getting the last word; “I’d like to thank you on behalf of the group and ourselves, and I hope we passed the audition”
Abbey Road might not be the best album by the best band of all time, but it’s certainly in the top three. The albums pioneering of 16 track recording consoles, synthesisers, compressors, and limiters opened the door for the recording of ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ and subsequently the birth of prog rock, and without its bright and positive character the Beatles career might have ended on the more gloomy and chaotic ‘Let it Be’.
If you have the album, play it loud this September 26th. If you don’t have it go out and buy it, It’s essential listening.
Happy 40th birthday, Abbey Road

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Chuck Klosterman's unique perspective on The Beatles re-masters


Chuck Klosterman Repeats The Beatles

by Chuck Klosterman September 8, 2009

Like most people, I was initially confused by EMI’s decision to release remastered versions of all 13 albums by the Liverpool pop group Beatles, a 1960s band so obscure that their music is not even available on iTunes. The entire proposition seems like a boondoggle. I mean, who is interested in old music? And who would want to listen to anything so inconveniently delivered on massive four-inch metal discs with sharp, dangerous edges? The answer: no one. When the box arrived in the mail, I briefly considered smashing the entire unopened collection with a ball-peen hammer and throwing it into the mouth of a lion. But then, against my better judgment, I arbitrarily decided to give this hippie shit an informal listen. And I gotta admit—I’m impressed. This band was mad prolific.It is not easy to categorize the Beatles’ music; more than any other group, their sound can be described as “Beatlesque.” It’s akin to a combination of Badfinger, Oasis, Corner Shop, and everyother rock band that’s ever existed.

The clandestine power derived from the autonomy of the group’s composition—each Beatle has his own distinct persona, even though their given names are almost impossible to remember. There was John Lennon (the mean one), Paul Stereo versionMcCartney (the hummus eater), George Harrison (the best dancer), and drummer Ringo Starr (The Cat). Even the most casual consumers will be overwhelmed by the level of invention and the degree of change displayed over their scant eight-year recording career, a span complicated by McCartney’s tragic 1966 death and the 1968 addition of Lennon’s wife Yoko Ono, a woman so beloved by the band that they requested her physical presence in the studio during the making of Let It Be.There are 217 songs on this anthology, many of which seem like snippets of conversation between teenagers who spend an inordinate amount of time at the post office.

The Beatles’ “long play” debut, Please Please Me, came in 1963, opening with a few rudimentary remarks from Mr. McCartney: “Well, she was just 17 / If you know what I mean.” If this is supposed to indicate that the female in question was born in 1946, then yes, we know exactly what you mean, Paul. If it means something else, I remain in the dark. These young, sensitive, genteel-yet-stalkerish Beatles sure did spend a lot of time thinking about girls. Virtually every song they wrote during this period focuses on the establishment and recognition of consensual romance, often through paper and quill (“P.S. I Love You”), sometimes by means of monosyllabic nonsense (“Love Me Do”), and occasionally through oral sex (“Please Please Me”). The intensely private Mr. Harrison asks a few coquettish questions two-thirds of the way through the opus (“Do You Want To Know A Secret”) before Mr. Lennon obliterates the back door with the greatest rock voice of all time, accidentally inventing Matthew Broderick’s career. There are a few bricks hither and yon (thanks for wasting 123 seconds of my precious life, Bobby Scott and Ric Marlow) but on balance, I have to give Please Please Me an A, despite the fact that it doesn’t really have a proper single.

Things get more interesting on With The Beatles, particularly for audiences who feel the hi-hat should be the dominant musical instrument on all musical recordings. Only one track lasts longer than three minutes, but structurally, it would appear that the Beatles were more musical than any songwriters who had ever come before them, even when performing material that had been conceived for The Music Man. It’s hard to understand why the rock press wasn’t covering the Beatles during this stretch of their career; one can only assume that the band members’ lack of charisma and uneasy rapport made them unappealing to the mainstream media. Still, the music itself has verve—With The Beatles earns another A.

A Hard Day’s Night provided the soundtrack for a 1964 British movie of the same name, a film mostly remembered for its subtle advocacy of euthanasia. The album initiates like the Pixies’ “Here Comes Your Man,” and never gets any worse. These Beatles were doomed to a career in the cut-out bin of record stores, but they were clearly learning lessons about life: Though they’d covered “Money (That’s What I Want)” just one year before, they had now reached the conclusion Mono versionthat money cannot purchase love. It was a period of inner growth and introspection—they wanted to know why people cry and why people lie, and they embraced the impermanent pleasure of dance. They also experimented with the harmonica, but that turned out okay. I was originally going to give Hard Day’s Night an A-, but then I heard the middle eighth from “You Can’t Do That” (“Ev’rybody’s greeeeeen / ’Cause I’m the one who won your love”), so I’m changing my grade to A. I assume the accompanying movie is on hulu or something, but I don’t feel like searching for it.

The Beatles get darker and (I guess) cheaper on Beatles For Sale, now fixating on their insecurities (“I’m A Loser”) and how difficult it is to waltz a girl into bed when her ex is a corpse (“Baby’s In Black”). There are a bunch of unexpected covers on this album, so it’s kind of like Van Halen’s Diver Down. It only warrants a B, despite the tear-generating mondo-pleasure of “I’ll Follow The Sun.” More importantly, Beatles For Sale nicely sets the supper table for Help!, a mesmerizing combination of who the Beatles used to be and who they were about to become. The signature track is “Yesterday” (the last song Mr. McCartney recorded before his death in an early-morning car accident), but the best cut is “You’re Going To Lose That Girl,” a song that oozes with moral ambiguity. Is “You’re Going To Lose That Girl” an example of Mr. McCartney’s fresh-faced enlightenment (in that he threatens to punish some dude for being an unresponsive boyfriend), or an illustration of Mr. Lennon’s quiet misogyny (in that he views women as empty, non-specific possessions that can be pillaged from male rivals)? Each possibility seems both plausible and impossible.

What makes Beatles lyrics so wonderful is not that they can be interpreted to mean whatever the listener wants; what makes them wonderful is the way they seamlessly adopt contradictory (yet equally valid) interpretations as the listener matures. It’s unfathomable how a couple of going-nowhere guys in their early 20s could be this emotively sophisticated, but that’s why the little-known Help! gets an A.

After Mr. McCartney was buried near Beaconsfield Road in Liverpool, Beatles bass-playing duties were secretly assigned to William Campbell, a McCartney sound-alike and an NBA-caliber smokehound. This lineup change resulted in the companion albums Rubber Soul and Revolver, both of which are okay. Despite its commercial failure, Rubber Soul allegedly caused half-deaf Brian Wilson to make Pet Sounds. (I assume this is also why EMI released a mono version of the catalogue—it allows consumers to experience this album the same way Wilson did.) If you like harmonies or guitar overdubs or the sun or Norwegian lesbians or taking drugs during funerals, you will probably sleep with these records on the first date. Rubber Soul gets an A- because I don’t speak French. Revolver gets an A+, mostly because of “She Said She Said” and “For No One,” but partially because I hate filing my taxes.1967 proved to be a turning point for the Beatles—the overwhelming lack of public interest made touring a fiscal impossibility, subsequently forcing them to focus exclusively on studio recordings.

Spearheaded by the increasingly mustachioed Fake Paul, the four Beatles donned comedic Technicolor dreamcoats, consumed 700 sheets of mediocre acid on the roof of the studio, and proceeded to make Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, a groundbreaking album no one actually likes. A concept album about finding a halfway decent song for Ringo, Sgt. Pepper has a few satisfactory moments (“Lovely Rita” totally nails the experience of almost having sex with a city employee), but this is only B+ work. It mostly seems like a slightly superior incarnation of The Rolling Stones’ Their Satanic Majesties Request, a record that (ironically) came out seven months after this one. Pop archivists might be intrigued by this strange parallel between the Beatles and the Stones catalogue—it often seems as if every interesting thing The Rolling Stones ever did was directly preceded by something the Beatles had already accomplished, and it almost feels like the Stones completely stopped evolving once the Beatles broke up in 1970. But this, of course, is simply a coincidence. I mean, what kind of bozo would compare the Beatles to The Rolling Stones?

After the humiliating public failure of Pepper, the Beatles returned to form with Magical Mystery Tour, an unsubtle compilation of the trippiest (“Blue Jay Way”) and kid-friendliest (“Your Mother Should Know”) material they ever made. “I Am The Walrus” seems like sarcasm, but “Penny Lane” makes me want to purchase a digital camera and apply to barber college. Will history ultimately validate Magical Mystery Tour as the band’s signature work? Only time will tell. A. Now hitting on all 16 cylinders, the Beatles bolted back to the woodshed for The Beatles, a blandly designed masterwork that could inspire any reasonable citizen of California to launch a race war. To this day, we don’t know much about the four men who comprised the Beatles, but listening to this exceedingly non-black album makes one detail totally clear—these guys truly loved each other. How else could they make such wonderful music? In fact, they adored and trusted each other so much that they didn’t even feel the need to perform some of the songs together. It must have been a great era to be in this band. Amazingly, they even wrangled a cameo from noted blues musician Eric Clapton (still best known for his contributions to John Mayhall’s Bluesbreakers).

The Beatles is almost beyond an A+; in retrospect, they probably should have made this a triple album. If nothing else, they could have simply included the five Pepper-y songs from Yellow Submarine (C-), which I think might have been a Halloween record.Let It Be comes next (or last, depending on how you view the universe), and it’s a wholly confusing project—it’s often difficult to tell who is playing lead guitar, and many of the songs could either be about having sex or dropping out of society, which might be the same thing. Fake Paul’s beard looks tremendous, and his (increasingly less-lilting) songs are still beautiful, but his focus feels askew; he seems like a guy who wants to make a record with his wife (which is what Mr. Lennon was already doing, although for totally different reasons). “I’ve Got A Feeling” is my preferred track, but it’s also the first time I really don’t believe what these fellows are trying to tell me. I give Let It Be a B-, although The Replacements get an A and the cast of Sesame Street gets an B+.

Though the artwork for Abbey Road seems eerily familiar (that’s actually my car in the photo’s background), the music it symbolizes is vaguely alien—I don’t know why they wrote a song about a Clue character, but that’s par for the course for these lovemaking, chain-smoking longhairs. The opener sucks (seems as crappy as mid-period Aerosmith), but Mr. Harrison follows with a wedding song that effortlessly proves why people who try to quantify visceral emotion should just stop trying. The entire band seems oddly unserious on this endeavor, but in the best possible way—for the first time in a long time, they sound as free as they look. That said, the audio quality is especially heavy and detailed; one suspects most of the arduous lifting on Abbey Road fell on the shoulders of unheralded Jeff Beck producer George Martin. Everything ends with “The End,” but then Fake Paul decided to add a superfluous 24-second mini-song that wipes away any historical closure Abbey Road might have otherwise achieved. The real Mr. McCartney would have never even considered such frivolity. I give Abbey Road an A, but begrudgingly.I’ve noticed that this EMI box also includes the gratuitously titled singles collection Past Masters, but I’m not even going to play it. How could a song called “Rain” not be boring? I feel like I’ve already heard enough. These are nice little albums, but I can’t imagine anyone actually shelling out $260 to buy these discs. There’s just too much great free music on the Internet, you know? You might find the instructional, third-person perspective of “Sie Leibt Dich” charming and snappy (particularly if you’re trying to learn German the hard way), but first check out “myspace.org,” a popular website with a forward-thinking musical flavor. That, my rockers, is the future. That, and videogames.

Chuck Klosterman is the author of six books, including the 2008 novel Downtown Owl and the forthcoming collection Eating The Dinosaur.


Friday, September 4, 2009

Please please play me


Brian Boyd wrting in The Irish Times - Spetember 4th 2009

Fab Fourmat: play at being Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Ringo Starr and George Harrison (left to right) using The Beatles Rock Band music video game which is released next weekIn this section »
Blessed with the creative and historical input of Paul and Ringo, The Beatles Rock Band is set to change the face of music video games – what a thrill to get the chance to replicate musical history, writes BRIAN BOYD

THE WEATHER in London on January 30th, 1969 was cold and very windy. Paul McCartney remembers the day well because it was the last time The Beatles performed together. When the producers of the music video game, The Beatles Rock Band , gave him a preview of the game, he saw an animated version of that last-ever gig.

Everything was perfect about the recreation, but for one thing: their hair wasn’t blowing around in the wind as McCartney distinctly remembered. The producers went back and added in a hair-being-blown-around-in-the-wind effect.

That sort of attention to detail (and reminder of just how hands-on McCartney and Ringo Starr were in the game’s production) is one reason why The Beatles Rock Band is such a significant release.

Music games are one of the few massive growth areas in the industry. The two main players in the field, Rock Band and Guitar Hero , have earned more than $3 billion over the last decade.

To date, the music game industry has largely been the preserve of hard rock music, and the typical gamer is young and male. Expect that to change now that the biggest and best music group ever has joined the fray. This not just the Rock Band franchise’s biggest release, it is arguably the most important music game release ever.

The Beatles have a unique pan-generational appeal. The Beatles Rock Band is so lavishly produced, and so simple to play, that the sales of the consoles (PlayStation, Xbox and Wii) are expected to spike over the next few weeks, as people who’ve previously found the idea of playing videos games alien to them will want to get this one.

The attraction of music games, as opposed to traditional shoot-’em-ups, is that gamers can play along with the songs on instrument-shaped plastic controllers (guitars, drums, etc). The goal is to keep in rhythmic time with the song being played.

With The Beatles Rock Band predicted to become the biggest selling entertainment commodity of 2009, it remains something of a surprise that a band who have so zealously guarded their musical legacy agreed to licence their songs to something so lowly as a video game. The Beatles aren’t even up on iTunes, and they only very rarely allow their songs to be used in TV programmes, films or on Greatest Hits compilations.

The Beatles as a legal entity today (McCartney, Starr, Olivia Harrison and Yoko Ono) only agreed to this game because of a chance meeting between George Harrison’s son, Dhani Harrison, and Van Toffler, a top executive at MTV. Harrison was on holidays three years ago and had brought along the new Guitar Hero video game. He bumped into Toffler (MTV owns Harmonix, which eventually produced the game) and the two got talking about how the games industry and how significant a development it would be if there were ever to be a Beatles game.

Harrison brought the idea to his mother, McCartney, Starr and Ono, who agreed that a properly done music game could sit as an important part of the band’s canon. They also reasoned that, as The Beatles were musical innovators, it would be appropriate to be involved in the innovative world of music games. Plus, they would be embracing “interactivity” – a word they usually baulked at.

The Beatles have previously turned down multi-million-pound deals if it meant handing their music over to a third party (for fear of how it would be used). And because of the way Apple Corp (their management company) is set up, McCartney, Starr, Ono and Olivia Harrison have the power to veto any proposed project relating to the band’s music. Which makes decision-making a tortuous process. The only way to get them in on anything is to involve all four of them at every step of the way.

The game includes 45 Beatles songs and is broken down to show the band in very accurate animation form at different stages of their career. You see them first playing at the Liverpool’s Cavern Club, then on to the Ed Sullivan show in the US. As the timeline progresses, you take in their famous Shea Stadium show, as well as that last-ever gig on top of the Apple Building.

All the “live” songs on the game are accompanied by footage of how fans would have behaved during the Beatlemania era. The producers studied books about 1960s fashions in order to “dress” audience members appropriately.

Because The Beatles stopped touring in 1966 and became studio-bound, the songs from that time are recreated in a special “Dreamscapes” mode: for Octopus’s Garden, they play in an underwater setting; for Here Comes the Sun , they stand on top of a flowered hill on a sunny day.

The real fun part of the game comes from using the “peripherals” – the instruments you need to participate (which are sold separate to the game). These are replicas of the Rickenbacker, Gretsch Duo Jet and Hofner guitars used by the band, as well as a Ludwig-branded replica drum kit. There are also microphones available, and the idea is the better you match the group’s three-part harmonies on the songs, the more points you amass on the game.

It’s only when you strap on a guitar and get miked that you realise what a thrill it is to – in virtual way – replicate what is, by any standards, musical history. When this journalist went to a preview of the game during the summer, fights nearly broke out over who would play lead, who would play bass, who would play drums – and that was before the sulks and tears over what song to play.

With four different levels of difficulty (from absolute “I’m all thumbs” beginner level to hardcore gamer-freak level), there is no sense that you need any level of gaming proficiency to throw yourself into the songs. And giving the game a sort of spooky feel is the real, and never before released, in-studio chatting between the four.

The idea was to “intensify people’s engagement with the music”, something you can only really appreciate when you strap on Lennon’s guitar (albeit a small and plastic replica) and play his guitar line on Day Tripper . The longer you spend fiddling around with the game, the more you discover. For example, there’s a “drum trainer” in there somewhere, which teaches you to play Ringo’s trademark drum fills. And those who play through all 45 songs (only 44 titles are known; one will remain a mystery until the game’s debut next week) will get to listen to the ultra-rare and long out-of-print 1963 fan-club only Christmas song The Beatles recorded.

The attention to detail on the game is superb. The venues, the haircuts, the clothes, the instruments – a lot of work was put in ensuring everything was just as it was. But that’s no big surprise when the game’s two “fact-checkers in chief” are Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, who both raided their own archives to check and double-check details.

It is this mix of pedantic detail under a front story of how popular music was thrillingly transformed by the Fab Four that really makes The Beatles Rock Band soar. Or, as McCartney put it when he saw (and played) the finished product: “It does reflect The Beatles . . . the reality and the mythology ”.

The Beatles Rock Band is released on September 9th
This article appears in the print edition of the Irish Times

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

It was 50 years ago today! The Quarrymen Rock the Casbah


Saturday August 29th 2009 marks the 50th anniversary of the opening of the Casbah Coffee Club in Liverpool. The entertainment that night was provided by John, Paul, George and.....Ken (?), 4 teenage musicians armed with cheap, battered acoustic guitars, and one mic between them.
There are many sites on offer to visiting Beatles pilgrims in Liverpool; Penny Lane, Menlove Avenue, Strawberry Fields, Albert Dock, however the Cavern club on Matthew Street, is perhaps the most iconic of them all. The former jazz club, located on a less than glamorous street in the middle of a less than glamorous city, became world famous during the 1960's as the springboard of a global phenomenon; The Beatles. After the Beatles vacated the building for the last time in 1963 the Cavern played host to a wealth of internationally famous acts such as The Kink's, The Rolling Stones, John Lee Hooker and The Hollies before its appeal and importance finally faded as the decade drew to a close.
The venue tourists have been visiting since 1984 is of course a faithful reproduction of the original, demolished in 1973 to facilitate the expansion of Mersey Rail. Today, Matthew Street, and its many 'Beatles' themed bars and attractions, The Cavern included, is somewhat tawdry, and projects a predictable, jaded and inveterate invitation towards the Beatles tourist looking to experience where it all began. However despite the fact that it was at the Cavern that Brian Epstein first clapped eyes on John, Paul, George and Pete in 1961, and acknowledging that with 292 appearances turned in between 1961 and 1963, the Cavern was certainly the Beatles 'home ground'...but it was not where it all began.
A short hop-skip to the coal cellar of a large Victorian house will place you in the actual venue which witnessed many of the seminal moments in the early formation of The Beatles. Number 8 Hayman's Green, West Derby, Liverpool was the family home of Mona Best, mother of Pete, the drummer replaced by Ringo Starr on the eve of the band's success, and owner of one of Liverpool's first dedicated popular music venues. Mona conceived the idea for a teen coffee bar and venue after watching a news-round special on TV documenting the success of a similar club in London's SOHO; '2i's'.
The 'Les Stewart Quartet' featuring a 16 year old George Harrison on guitar were originally booked for the opening night, but a quarrel within the band led to a split just days before the gig, prompting Harrison to suggest calling in two friends of his who were 'not doing anything'; enter a 19 year old John Lennon and 17 year old Paul McCartney. However more than merely providing the entertainment for the impending opening, the Quarrymen chipped in and helped paint the room before the opening night, and apparently took turns serving behind the coffee bar, which claims to have been the first of its kind in Liverpool with an espresso machine.

Thus, on Saturday August 29th 1959, John, Paul, George and Ken (Brown) took the tiny stage in the cellar and 'opened' the venue, without a drummer or a single amplifier between them. The band served a Saturday night residency until October 10th when they fell out with Mona for her insistence on paying a sick Ken Brown who had missed a performance (Brown was incidentally the same member who had been the reason for the Les Stewart Quartet Split which led to the Quarrymen landing the gig in the first place). Subsequently, Lennon, McCartney & Harrison would not rock the Casbah again until their return from Hamburg in December 1960, this time with Mona Best's son Pete on drums. This return performance was the band's first in their home town under a new name; 'The Beatles'. The posters for the gig were hand drawn by a trainee accountant friend of Pete's, one Neill Aspinall, the man who would serve time as the Beatles van driver and roadie throughout their career, and under whose guidance the Beatles own company blossomed from rotten Apple to Golden orb, transforming the name 'Beatles' from band to brand. Aspinall also adds a colourful side to the story; he fathered a child with Mona Best in 1962, and although he was distraught over Pete's dismissal from the band that same year, he chose to go all the way with the Beatles.

The Quarrymen; Lennon/McCartney/Harrison and a number of other rotating musicians had played together before, in church hall's and various functions, so you might ask, what was so special about this performance and this venue? The short explanation is that the Quarrymen entered the Casbah as a skiffle group; an acoustic outfit playing a blend of country, hillbilly and rockabilly music, but it was in the Casbah that they acquired bass and drums, becoming a 5 piece rock combo and moving towards the more familiar Beatles lineup we know today. The basement was where two 'fifth Beatles' were recruited. It was here that Lennon persuaded Stuart Sutcliffe to spend the money he had recently made from selling a painting on a Höfner President 500/5 model bass guitar, and it was also in the Casbah that Pete Best auditioned to back the Beatles on drums on the eve of their first trip to Hamburg (acquiring a steady drummer was a prerequisite to the band landing a residency on the seedy Reeperbahn).

So, you could say that the Beatles were assembled at the Casbah Coffee club. Fitting then that they not only performed as the opening act in 1959, but that they also headlined the clubs last night on 24 June 1962, allegedly to a crowd of 1500, the venue had a capacity for 300. McCartney recently stated -"I think it’s a good idea to let people know about The Casbah. They know about The Cavern, they know about some of those things, but The Casbah was the place where all that started. We helped paint it and stuff. We looked upon it as our personal club".
Apparently in 1967, Lennon contacted Mona Best and asked if he could borrow her Father's war medals for a photo shoot, the story goes that despite still being upset at the dismissal of her son from the band five years previous, she agreed, and these are what Lennon wore on the cover of the 'Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band' album sleeve.

The Casbah never reopened its doors again as a venue, and Mona Best passed away in 1988. The venue has recently been reopened as a museum, now under the protection of the national trust, the same body that manages the former childhood homes of John Lennon and Paul McCartney. The website claims that the same decorations painted by John and Paul are untouched and can be viewed along with many other objects of interest in mint condition. More intimate, poignant, and tangible than a trip down Matthew Street one might suggest.
To find out about tours of the Casbah Club, visit http://www.casbahcoffeeclub.com/

The magical remastering tour

Tony Clayton-Lea in the Irish Times, Tuesday Augsut 25th 2009
http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/features/2009/0825/1224253191485.html

The remastering of the Beatles back catalogue might seem like yet another cash in, but the engineers responsible tell Tony Clayton-Lea that it is more about the music than the money
IN 1964, WHEN Beatles For Sale was released just in time for the Christmas market, the album sleeve notes – written by their press agent, Derek Taylor – included the following words: “The kids of AD 2000 will understand what it was all about and draw from the music much the same sense of wellbeing and warmth as we do today. For the magic of The Beatles is timeless and ageless.”
By the start of 1965, The Beatles had had eight top-five UK hit singles and four UK number-one albums – it was a very good track record up to that point, but as this was an era when pop acts had a limited shelf life, it is arguable that Taylor’s enthusiasm was fuelled in part by his PR sensibilities as well as by his love of the music. It is salutary to note, however, that by Christmas 2000, The Beatles 1 album, a compilation of their chart topping songs, was a hit all over the world, with initial sales of 25 million. With a percipience that subsequently marked him out as more astute soothsayer than ordinary PR lackey, Derek Taylor has been proven correct.
Magic. Timeless. Ageless. As we approach the entrance to Abbey Road studios on a warm sunny day in June, it is difficult to suppress a tingle of excitement. We know there are those who think of The Beatles as overvalued, relentlessly trumpeted as the pioneers of everything that is good about pop; we know also that there are those who regard them as architects of the kind of noise that directed the kids of (specifically) the 1960s away from BBC Home Counties attributes.
Yet, despite these occasional detractors (who most assuredly retreat from view whenever a Beatles anniversary or event crops up), the virtually universal argument is that the achievements of the band are blindingly obvious: they made (and acted upon) decisions that took pop music out of its initial, relatively straitjacketed parameters and redirected its course to the point that what followed meant anything could happen. It’s a large claim, perhaps, but as we snake our way into an Abbey Road studio to hear advance earfuls of the next chapter of The Beatles, it doesn’t seem too fanciful a notion.
The next chapter (for those who have not yet retreated from view) is the digital re-mastering of The Beatles’ back catalogue. We are in the company of Allan Rouse and Paul Hicks, two Abbey Road sound engineers who have been bestowed with the onerous task of sonically cleaning what is surely not just pop music but cultural heritage, and if what we hear over the next hour or so is anything to go by, then even casual Fab Four fans will be impressed.
INCREDIBLY, THIS IS the first time the band’s original masters have been digitally treated (although 10 years ago, the album Yellow Submarine Songtrack , contained a few songs in remixed, re-mastered format), which suggests perhaps the most obvious question of them all: The Beatles back catalogue is the Holy Grail of pop music – you certainly took your time, didn’t you?
Blame Apple is the implied response. If Rouse and Hicks are the keepers of the flame, then Apple is the administrative company that, at a whim (or a “no” from either Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr or Yoko Ono) can blow the flame out or reignite it. Apparently, the re-masters have been in the can, so to speak, for more than four years, so it’s all rather mystifying as to why Apple has waited until now to release them (although, presumably, the concurrent release of the music game, The Beatles: Rock Band , gives the enterprise extra commercial clout). Similarly, the wait before putting The Beatles back catalogue on to iTunes. Rouse and Hicks are Abbey Road employees, not Apple underlings, so, again, the underlying plea-bargain is: not our fault, mate, we just work here.
They’re good blokes, however – humorous, talkative, and not at all predisposed to peppering their conversation with words or phrases such as “bitonal”, “popping”, “damping”, “ritardando”, “direct injecting” or “supertonic”. The fact that they are so closely involved in such an important cultural project seems to have passed them by. Yet they are, they stress, protective of the legacy.
“We all are, actually,” says Rouse, “but Apple are in their own way, too. I mean, there is a little bit of history here, isn’t there? That’s why there are up to six people involved in this project – it means that no one person has made a decision about how things should be treated. It was always something we should discuss, we have thought, and it also has the benefit that if something goes wrong, then we can blame other people and spread the load.”
Says Hicks on committee-oriented projects, “You could drive yourself mental trying to please this or that person, so you’ve just got to get your head down and do it.”
By “this or that person”, can we take it to mean either one of the remaining former Beatles – McCartney and Starr? According to Rouse, they heard nothing from either person until the close of the project.
“At the end of any project we do concerning The Beatles, we make a CD of it and send it to Apple, and they distribute it to the relevant board members. Then we sit and wait for either approval or flak! How it works is that if nobody says anything, then they’re approved.”
What was it like trying to balance out the technical elements – the removal of any sonic glitches that would not normally be heard by the casual listener – with the more pragmatic aspects of just being a fan of the music?
“We were doing it technically, obviously, and hopefully as a listener as well,” comments Rouse. “The team of people who have been working on this project – myself and Paul and others – have been working on Beatles material for about 13 years. Each time we have done a job – although for the most part all the previous jobs were remixing – everybody begins to learn a little bit more. And every time we do another job, we actually like The Beatles music a little bit more. So, yes, of course, we were looking at it as a professional job, but we all love music, so we’re there as listeners, too.”
The biggest tasks, sonically, were undertaken on the albums, Rouse admits, that one might expect: “White Album, Revolver, Let It Be, perhaps. Each one had its own little challenges. The point is, when you remix something you might think that perhaps the voice isn’t loud enough by today’s standards. There is a temptation to try and do something to compensate for that in the re-mastering process, but you have to realise you can’t.”
He describes the process as a series of “subtle, incremental steps over a period of time, different locations and different ears”.
“We weren’t trying to make the sound modern,” says Hicks. “We just wanted to get as much clarity as possible in there. And we were always very conscious of not trying to overhype the sound. On the stereo set we have done some limiting to raise the level. [Limiting is a process by which the peaks of a signal are flattened, thereby producing a more compacted sound].
“The monos? We figured that was more a collector/audiophile thing, and we didn’t put any limiting there, so the sound is purer.”
“The only things we removed,” reveals Rouse, “were those sonic items which, technically speaking, shouldn’t have been there in the first place, and which by today’s recording standards wouldn’t have been there. Conversely, we wouldn’t take out anything that we considered to be part of the performance – a cough, or Ringo’s bass drum pedal, for example. But if there was a click, bad sibilance, a microphone ‘pop’, then, of course, we’d improve on those.”
WHICH IS ALL very well and good, but is this not yet another instance of a major record company releasing effectively the same product, albeit a slightly cleaner sounding one? Yes and no. No one is arguing that anybody listening to any of the re-mastered songs on a kitchen radio will be able to tell the difference, and not many are denying how important The Beatles were/are to popular culture. EMI and Apple Corps Ltd might be sitting back and looking forward to their end-of-year profit margins, but for the likes of Allan Rouse and Paul Hicks, it isn’t about the money.
“To be perfectly honest, I don’t think that’s ever been the case with The Beatles. Look at other bands whose names I won’t mention – some have been re-mastered up to three times by now. And repackaged. In terms of The Beatles 1960s masters – they were never re-mastered, simple as that. What you got in the 1960s was what you got in the 1980s, and to bring them up a little bit, sonically, we re-mastered them. So it’s not a money issue at all. Having said that, it’s not really for me to say because we just do the job – we’re told to do it. But my personal opinion is that it isn’t about the money. Absolutely not.”
So everyone is happy, then? Including the board members of Apple Corps Ltd?
“The basic argument,” concludes Rouse with something approaching a definitive statement, “is that if it’s good enough for The Beatles, then it’s good enough for everyone else.”
WHAT IS RELEASED ON SEPTEMBER 9th The original Beatles catalogue, which has been digitally re-mastered for the first time, is released worldwide on CD on Wednesday, September 9th. Each of the CDs is packaged with replicated original UK album art, including expanded booklets containing original and newly written liner notes and rare photos. For a limited period, each CD will also be embedded with a brief documentary film about the album. The documentaries contain archival footage, rare photographs and never-before-heard studio chat from the Beatles. Also released on September 9th are two new Beatles boxed CD collections – a stereo set and a collector’s mono set. The same date also sees the release of The Beatles: Rock Band video game. Regarding the arrival of the Beatles back catalogue on a digital platform such as iTunes, an official statement from Apple Corps Ltd and EMI Music states that “discussions regarding the digital distribution of the catalogue will continue”.
This article appears in the print edition of the Irish Times

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

It was 40 years ago today! Monday August 25th 1969

The Dirty Mac
40 years ago today, two contrasting 'Ulster's' demonstrated the highs and lows of 'grass roots' attempts to end intolerance and prejudice in the UK and US respectively. Following some of the worst street violence in its History, Northern Ireland was preparing to be catapulted into 30 years of chaos and murder on both sides of the divide, the shock of which would reverberate around the world for decades. Messrs Lennon and McCartney would soon individually release singles which criticised the UK governments handling of the 'Irish question', betraying in both cases, a somewhat one-sided, naive and simplistic understanding of the problem.
In another 'Ulster'; Ulster County New York, close to the town of Woodstock, half a million people came together for "3 days of music and peace" during an event organised and executed as the penultimate act of the late 60's 'summer of love', as the most socially liberating decade of the 20th century drew to a close. The concert was listed by Rolling Stone magazine as one of the 50 Moments That Changed the History of Rock and Roll.
Back to EMI studios on August 25th, and the completion of 'Abbey Road' was under-way, with the final master, and safety copy of the same being carted off to the Apple building for disc cutting. The symbolic handing over of the master for pressing from Geoff Emerick to Malcolm Davies, ushers in the end of an era, and the Beatles career on disc (discounting future compilations, re-issues and the 1995 'Anthology' reunion). No armed guards with master tapes or reels handcuffed to their wrists as had occurred with 'A Hard Days Night' only 5 years previous. The long and winding road had reached its final destination.