Long Long Long

When we think about longevity, images of wrinkly Rolling Stones or half The Who come to mind.  And that makes sense, especially from a performance standpoint; some acts just keep on trucking.  The Stones, especially, give the air of having some kind of record for surviving the longest.

But if you examine the question from the perspective of recording new music, they haven’t/didn’t last so long – at least in my iTunes library.

Here’s the ranking of the artists who have had the longest careers in terms of their earliest and latest recordings (again, in my iTunes library – yours will differ).

Artist/Band	Earliest Recording	Latest Recording	Number of Years
Ringo Starr	1962	2012	50
Paul McCartney	1962	2007	45
B.B. King	1956	2000	44
Bob Dylan	1962	2006	44
Steve Winwood	1965	2008	43
Eric Clapton	1964	2006	42
George Harrison	1962	2002	40
James Taylor	1968	2007	39
Robert Plant	1969	2007	38
Joe Walsh	1969	2007	38
David Gilmour	1969	2006	37
Mark Knopfler	1978	2015	37
Bruce Springsteen	1973	2009	36
Tom Petty	1976	2010	34
Rolling Stones	1964	1994	30

OK, the Ringo thing is a bit of a fluke.  I finally saw him live in 2012, and was so happy about it that I bought the tee-shirt and the CD.

I don’t buy everything these folks release, but it’s wonderful that they’re still making great music – the ones that are alive anyway.

Speaking of which, I wonder if Hendrix or Lennon …. oh nevermind.

Let It Be

Message to Sir Paul McCartney:  I’ve read the recent Esquire Interview, and you should just leave it alone, man.

You’re adored.  You’re respected.  But it's not a contest.  It shouldn't be a contest.  The magic was the 4 of you.  You'll all different.  4 amazing individuals who created one special thing.

Since the breakup you’ve been great.  Terrific.  Wonderful.  But you don’t have anything to prove, and you can’t compete against a ghost.

Just let it be, man.  To Hell with what Yoko said or did.  It's not a contest.

Almost Fab

Speaking of songs that shoulda been recorded by The Beatles, there have been quite a few down through the years that engendered a “that’s a Beatles tune” reaction.  For me, anyway.

Sometimes it’s the melody, sometimes the chords, or the overall feel, or the sound of the singer’s voice.  It can vary.  It happened a lot in 70-71 when I was, like many (most?) people, still ticked about their breakup.

Examples include:

Cheap Trick’s If You Want My Love You Got It

Argent’s Hold Your Head Up

Gerry Rafferty’s Baker Street, and his Steeler’s Wheel’s Stuck In The Middle With You

America’s Goldenhair – guess that was the George Martin production?

Yes’s Love Will Find A Way

Pretty much everything by Badfinger

Then of course, you had the solo work by the four fabs.  On the stronger songs, you couldn’t help but wish for a better backup band.  Well, I couldn’t anyway.

You Won’t Find A Better Loser

Some people think Bell Bottom Blues is a wonderful song, one of Clapton’s best.  Many people think it’s rubbish.

I happen to be in the former camp, but I kinda get why some people don’t like it too much.  Even though I enjoy it, it can come across somewhat unsettling, like something’s not quite right. 

Well, 40+ years later, I think I’ve finally put my finger on it:  it’s performed by the wrong band.  Instead of Derek and the Dominoes, it should be a Beatles record, with John singing, and Paul doing the harmony.  Clapton is guesting, as is Billy Preston.  George and Ringo make their presence known, tastefully as always.

Can you picture it – I mean hear it?  Nice, eh?

The Fab Archives

Why is it that we seem to get some “new” Hendrix material every few years, but we can’t get access to old Beatles material?

Rolling Stone’s Six Best Out of Print Beatles Releases nicely illustrates that there is some great stuff out there we should have.  Some concert footage, some TV appearances, all the videos the made.  Some of it maybe not so great, but some of it vintage Beatles magic.

I remember watching Around The Beatles when it aired in Canada and it was pure joy from start to finish, so I won’t argue with Rolling Stone’s argument that they should all be brought back.  When I watch Anthology, I certainly wish that their dozens of TV performances could be brought together in a package.  And I’ve heard enough snippets to know the Christmas Album would be a treat.  And, as for The Beatles Video Collection?  There’s just no excuse.

But returning to Anthology, there’s enough of Let It Be captured there to remind how painful it was to watch that movie when it came out in 1970.  I don’t think I could do it again.

But bring the rest of it back, please.  How about a ‘Beatles Best Concert Performances’ DVD?  How about a ‘Beatles on TV’ DVD?  Come on, lawyers, go git ‘er done.

Dream Baby

Growing up, I never knew what to make of Roy Orbison.  Oh Pretty Woman was a great rocker, but it didn’t quite have the same edge as contemporary Beatles or Stones songs.  And the rest of his canon seemed better suited to my parents’ radio station than mine.

I know his tenor voice was operatic, but all those strings!  Sure, it was the doo-wop era, and rock had been tamed, bottled and homogenized, but where were the twangy guitars?  Where was the attitude?  Roy Orbison seemed more like Gene Pitney or Shelley Fabares than Elvis or Chuck Berry.

Pretty good with the sad songs, though.

Maybe it was just the production values of the time.  Much later on, in the 80’s working with Jeff Lynne, Roy proved he could rock out with the Travelling Willburys and U2.  And if you’ve ever seen Black and White Night, I’m sure you’ll agree his old classics sparked some great rock and roll moments when supported by the likes of Springsteen, Bonnie Raitt and Elvis Costello.

Ringo has said that Roy was the only act The Beatles didn’t want to follow.  With a different producer in a different era, Roy Orbison could have had ‘em all running scared.  Except it’s obvious everybody loved him just the way he was.

Tune In

Going back to the Hunter Davies book, I have read a lot about The Beatles.  A lot.

But this new book, All These Years (Volume 1), by Mark Lewisohn, is nothing short of amazing.  After a lifetime of listening, watching, playing and reading, you’d think you’d get to the point where you know it all.

Wrong.

The plot doesn’t change, of course.  But with 800 pages that only get you to the end of 1962, this book is dense.  Fascinating additional details, wonderful new insights, and more than a few myths exploded.

Can’t wait for the next volume.

Remember I’ll Always Be True

Well, along with a big bunch of other people, I’ll be watching the 50^th anniversary tribute of The Beatles’ first appearance on Ed Sullivan when it airs this Sunday.  And along with what I suspect will be a healthy majority of ‘em, I’ll have my fingers crossed that it’s not too corny, schmaltzy or over-done.  Unlikely, but it is possible.

But whether I shed tears of nostalgic joy or wince in embarrassment, I’ll tell you this:  aside from being born, The Beatles are the single biggest fact of my life.

I’m not talking about teenybopper infatuation, mindless celebrity idolization, or stalker-like obsession.  The Beatles tapped into something bigger than themselves, something enervating, life giving, transcendent – and it touched millions of us in profound ways.

Friends, teachers, work colleagues – even family – come and go.  Many earned my respect, gratitude and love.  Some influenced my thinking, and who I became.  A few provided excellent role models.  The Beatles did something even bigger: they defined my culture.

I was two months shy of my tenth birthday on February 9, 1964, and a week or so short of sixteen when Paul announced that The Beatles had broken up.  So growing up, they were a dominant news item, the biggest positive, a cosmic force.  The Space Program, Civil Rights, Vietnam, pending nuclear Armageddon  … they were all out there.  But for many of us, these things were only visible and understood through music and pop culture, which was dominated by The Beatles.  They were the lens through which we watched the world.  They were the shoes we would put on so we could walk in it.

Sometimes what The Beatles did was sad.  Sometimes it was embarrassing, even painful.  But mostly they were joyful and they were always magical.  They changed all of us, and their impact is still being felt.

As Bob Wooler wrote in the very first article ever written about The Beatles (in Mersey Beat on August 31, 1961), “I don’t think anything like them will happen again.”

Sweet Jam

Further to that last post on The Charlatans, if you go back to the references you get one awesome jam session:  John, Paul, George, Ringo, Mick, Keef and Stevie Winwood.

Woulda got some sweet sounds out of that supersession!

Surrealistic Pillows

Stumbled across this fun list called 50 Things We Wouldn't Have Without The Beatles.

50 things.  That’s a lot.  Some of them even matter, like: long hair, music videos, stadium concerts, concept albums, backmasking, eastern philosophy, and intentional feedback.  Examples of how The Beatles changed the world.  Speaking of which: musicians trying to change the world.

Other things are true but more curious than impactful:  heavy metal (yes, check Helter Skelter), Monty Python’s The Life of Brian (well, if George didn’t have the money …)

50 things is a lot.  So some are a stretch:  Apple (copycat name and logo), Thomas the Tank Engine (Ringo was cool and all, but …), Nirvana?  Cher?  Phil Collins?

Double albums?  In 1968, everyone had a double album!

Maybe 50 is just too many things.  Like, of course we wouldn’t have Beatles cover bands without The Beatles!  And I guess we wouldn’t have had The Monkees, but …

Keeping the list to 20-25 might have bee a good idea.  A shorter list would have contained less whimsy – a definite Beatles characteristic – but would have carried more credibility.  The impact of the guys is immeasurable.  We don’t need a longer list to establish that.

And yes, Ringo was apparently the first to put a pillow inside his kick drum.  And now it’s time to say goodnight.

Oh My My

I saw Ringo in concert a while back.  It was pure joy from start to finish.

Can’t vouch for the rest of the crowd, but for me it wasn’t about seeing a former Beatle.  It was about Ringo.  Who cares if With A Little Help From My Friends isn’t as inspirational as Let It Be, if It Don’t Come Easy isn’t as deep in your consciousness as Nowhere Man, if – if you’re jaded enough to say it – he’s an also-ran in the vocal department?  Who cares?

What matters is watching a 72 year old bounding around stage acting like a 16 year old, having a ball, flashing peace signs – and meaning it.  He’s been doing this for over half a century, and it shows.  I mean: he’s not tired.  He’s professional.  He’s into it.  He’s still having fun, and it’s contagious.

Ringo is all about peace and love and rock and roll.  That’s a damn fine combination, and that’s what matters.  He just might be the coolest guy on the planet.

The Fabbest of the Four

Question:  Who’s the best Beatle?  Not your favourite.  Not the most talented, or successful, or revered.  The best Beatle.  The one who has the best blend of Beatles attributes.  The most Beatleness.

Answer:  George Harrison

George would be dismayed, I’m sure, but it’s true.  Here’s why.

1. He was the funniest one. Yes, they were all witty, and Ringo and John could be terrific clowns, but George’s sense of humour was relentless.  Listen to the last verse of Cockamamie Business.
2. He was the most reserved.  One of the hallmarks of Beatlemania was the Beatles themselves saying, “look, we don’t know what’s going on, we’re just trying to make music.”  George maintained that posture until the day he died.
3. He was the boldest.  Yes, John did all the grandstanding and Paul was the mouthpiece, but who explored further afield?  Who took the biggest risks that his fans might not get it?  Sitars?  Hare Krishna?  George.
4. He was all about excellence.  First and foremost, The Beatles were the best band in the history of rock.  George never strayed, never compromised.  He didn’t make records with Pattie or Olivia.  He made them with John, Paul, Ringo, Billy, Eric, Bob, Tom and Jeff.
5. He was wise.  John ran away from being a Beatle.  Paul went into denial for 20 years, then reversed himself to become chief curator of Beatles Memories Inc..  Ringo, because only he could, just carried on being Ringo.  George didn’t try to deny his past even though it made him uncomfortable.  He had other priorities (see points 1-4).

Like most people, I adore(d) them all.  But, if we’re honest with ourselves, all of them occasionally put us in a “I-wish-he-hadn’t-done-that” space.  Easily done when you’re a brave, clever, witty, inventive, curious, smart, cheeky, talented, idolized musical genius blamed for creating a hitherto unknown form of mass hysteria.  George had his moments, but he didn’t generate uneasiness as frequently – or as severely – as the others.  He was the best at being fab.

If you’d ask him the question, George would probably have said, “oh I don’t know, I suppose the obvious answer is John, isn’t it?”  Then he would have laughed and said, “but don’t tell Paul.”  Fab.

Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up To Me

With a nod to the great/ongoing recession, Gibson has a list of 10 Songs For Hard Times.

Here's the list:
Patches, by Clarence Carter
Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out, by Derek and the Dominos
Coal Miner's Daughter, by Loretta Lynn
Busted, by Ray Charles
Inner City Blues, by Marvin Gaye
Aqualung, by Jethro Tull
Kill The Poor, by The Dead Kennedys
Waitin' on a Train, by Jimmie Rodgers
No Woman, No Cry, by Bob Marley
Why I Sing The Blues, by B.B. King

Lotta time, ground and genres covered by this list.  In fact, not sure many of these tunes live up to the genre in the title "Poor Man's Blues: 10 Songs For Hard Times."

A little curious about Aqualung, 'cause frankly I never saw him as a sympathetic character.  Surprised not to see anything by the likes of Woody Guthrie or Pete Seeger.  I might have added:
Hobo's Lullaby, Woody or Arlo Gurthrie's versions
Match Box Blues, anyone's version, including (especially?) Ringo's
House Rent Boogie, by John Lee Hooker
Soon As I Get Paid or Crapped Out Again, by Keb Mo

What's surprising, really, is that there aren't a lot more current songs out there.  I'm pretty sure people are suffering, and they appear to be more than a little ticked off.

Where's the musical expression, people?

They Got Rhythm

Gibson has this 10 Great Rock Rhythm Sections list.

What Elvis said about people applies to bands too: Rhythm is something you either have or don't have, but when you have it, you have it all over.

Rhythm is what holds it all together. Rhythm is fundamental. Rhythm is what it's all about.

Here's the list:

1. John Paul Jones and John Bonham, Led Zeppelin
2. Geddy Lee and Neil Peart, Rush
3. Flea and Chad Smith, Red Hot Chili Peppers
4. Les Claypool and Jay Lane, Primus
5. Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts, The Rolling Stones
6. John Entwistle and Keith Moon, The Who
7. Tim Commerford and Brad Wilk, Rage Against the Machine
8. Jack and Meg White, The White Stripes
9. Mike Dirnt and Tre Cool, Green Day
10. P-Nut and Sexton, 311

I might have added Larry Mullen and Adam Clayton from U2, or Ian Paice and Roger Glover from Deep Purple - and I definitely would have added Paul and Ringo.  Yes, The Beatles did fancy, trippy, pretty and symphonic, but they also rocked.

Not to slag Mr. Jones, but I wonder if he didn't get lost in John Bonham's thunder.  Not sure if Zep's rhythm section wasn't just Bonzo, and John Paul Jones was along for the ride.

Based on what I read in Keith Richards' autobiography, they same might be said about Bill Wyman. Keef waxes poetic about Charlie, but his comments on Bill Wyman are basically limited to:
1. we let Bill into the band because he had a Vox AC30 amp, and
2. then ( a few hundred pages later) Bill left the band

Anyway, great list, because it reminds us about the primary element.

In My Life

Now here's a list that says a lot: the Rolling Stone 100 Greatest Beatles Songs. Who else could deserve their own list?

Very thoughtful write-up by Elvis Costello, who has added scholarship to his songwriting and performance credentials. He respects their exceptional skills as songwriters, nails it with his admiration of George's sing-able guitar solos, and recognizes the influence their studio pioneering had on, as he puts it, everything from Motown to Jimi Hendrix.

Like me, he thinks it's impossible to pick favourites, then confesses that Rubber Soul and Revolver are.

Here's the Top 10:
1. A Day In The Life
2. I Want To Hold Your Hand
3. Strawberry Fields
4. Yesterday
5. In My Life
6. Something
7. Hey Jude
8. Let It Be
9. Come Together
10. While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Hard to argue with anything there. I could say I was a tad disappointed at the placement of the following: You Won't See Me (#94), Nowhere Man (#66), Drive My Car (#43), and We Can Work It Out (#30). OK, maybe more than a little disappointed on Nowhere Man.

But at what cost? What song(s) deserve to be lower? Every song on the list is remarkable, most are influential, and a healthy majority of them are masterpieces.

In my life, a better Top 100 list could not be assembled.

Drum Roll Please

They don't make drums, but Gibson put out this list of The Top 10 Singing Drummers

I'm not going to quibble with any names on the list, because anyone who can sing and play drums at the same time has my respect. I mean, I can play guitar and sing - as long as the rhythm isn't too complex - but that's just 2 hands and voice. Drummers have to keep 2 feet going too - and they can't run away from the complex rhythms. I'm in a band with a singing drummer. We all sing, and all have us have said "my instrumental part is pretty complicated, so could someone else sing this?"

Except the drummer. These guys just amaze me.

No surprise to see Levon Helm, Phil Collins or Don Henley on the list. And nice to see Ringo, but hey Gisbon, you could have shown a video of Ringo where he was actually playing the drums and not just singing.

A little surprised to see Micky Dolenz of The Monkees on the list. He did have a good voice but how much drumming did he really do? I mean, are the pickings that slim? How about Dave Clark? How about Ginger Baker? OK, it's only one song and maybe you can't call it singing but his performance of Pressed Rat And Warthog on the Cream Reunion concert is pretty darned impressive.

Not quibbling, just asking.

Bonzo Reprise

Gibson just published The Top 10 Rock Drummers. Lots of similarities to the Rolling Stone list published a while back. Here's the list:

 1. John Bonham - also #1 in Rolling Stone

 2. Neil Peart - #3 in Rolling Stone
 3. Keith Moon - #2 in Rolling Stone. Not a lot of variety here, is there?
 4. Dave Grohl - also #4 in Rolling Stone. See what I mean?
 5. Lars Ulrich - not in Rolling Stone. Ah, some change!
 6. Mike Portnoy - also not in Rolling Stone. OK maybe it's worth having a new list.
 7. Ginger Baker - sigh. Better than Rolling Stone's #9, but still not good enough.
 8. Josh Freese - not in Rolling Stone. A pattern of slightly more current drummers perhaps?
 9. Stewart Copeland - #7 in Rolling Stone
10. Ringo. Still nice to see him included, but I liked Rolling Stone's #5 better.

I agree with Gibson's statements that a good drummer is the backbone to the band, and that he/she also keeps the listener engaged. The best drummers find ways to do that without interfering with the song - not an easy thing to do.

The Bonzo List

Well, I've found another list, the Rolling Stone Best Drummers Of All Time list.

Pretty good, and I guess predictable. Here it is:

1. John Bonham. Not a surprise. Page's riff's defined the songs, but Bonham held them together.
2. Keith Moon. Not a surprise, though I've always thought Moon was more famous for being nuts than for his drumming.
3. Neil Peart. Well, he wins on the size of his kit anyway.
4. Dave Grohl. Had to look him up to learn that he drummed for Nirvana and Foo Fighters.  Showing my age, I guess, but two great bands.
5. Ringo. Nice surprise. Just by association, he deserves be there. And for being Ringo.  And for figuring out drum parts for, say, Maxwell's Silver Hammer.  See? There is justice.
6. Buddy Rich. I suppose.
7. Stewart Copeland. Well, he helped changed the beat, and The Police were huge, so sure.
8. ?uestlove. ???
9. Ginger Baker. No. Much, much higher. Anyone who can solo over top of Clapton and Bruce (x2, since he sang and played bass solos at the same time) and still keep the song together is #1 or 2.
10. Michael Shrieve. OK, so he played one of the most famous drum solos of all time. So did Gene Krupa. Where's he?

Speaking of ... where is Ian Paice? Mitch Mitchell? Clive Bunker?

Anyway, it's all good. Most music, especially rock, is all about the beat. All decent drummers are worth their weight in gold.

Forever Young

Paul once said, "We used to say we could never be thirty year old Beatles.  But we will be, and not too many years from now."

Well, he was right the first time, because they broke up.  But, he was also wrong, because he has gone on, in his fifties and sixties, to be the perpetual Beatle.

He's alone, though.  Ringo, who is now over seventy, has gone on to be Ringo, something he and he alone can achieve.

John and George worked hard at being ex Beatles, not Beatles, something-other-than-Beatles.

And while Paul's ability to be a Beatle at age 69 is just short of miraculous, John has something Paul can never achieve.  Thanks to a murderer by the name of David Mark Chapman, John will be forever young.  Paul can amaze us by defying his age and acting young, but John can't get older - ever.

And while Paul can impress and make us think, "good on ya, man,"  John's memory is distilled into one or two images from his thirties and a dozen or so from his fresh faced, cheeky twenties.  That takes us back, and keeps us young.

John's been dead for thirty-one years now, and a healthy portion of the planet was not yet born then, but he'll be forever young, and he'll share that with all of us.