the
Give me your music, your art, your huddled masses of words and rhythms, yearning to breathe free.
Give me your music, your art, your huddled masses of words and rhythms, yearning to breathe free.
the
Give me your music, your art, your huddled masses of words and rhythms, yearning to breathe free.
In the early 1960s, The Beatles came off as cute and cheeky, while the Rolling Stones - marketed by manager Andrew Loog Oldham as the anti-Beatles - were perceived as snide and snarky. Here's a look at how these two very different bands greeted the public at Christmas time.
If you could whittle down The Beatles' double "White Album" to a single-disc LP, which songs would you include (or toss)? Today, this album is considered iconic among fans and critics. Yet, upon its release, many critics considered the songs somewhat mediocre and purposeless. I played this album till it was nearly grooveless, but when it comes to critical analysis, I believe its content could have used "a damn good whacking," to borrow a line from George Harrison's song "Piggies" (a tune I'd cut, by the way).
"Swan song" is a term that refers to a final effort or performance. But, when I think of swan song as it relates to The Beatles, their early hit "She Loves You" comes to mind. By September 1963, the band was fast becoming a phenomenon in England, but couldn't manage to grab the attention of a major record label in the U.S. Beatles' manager Brian Epstein finally turned to the small Philadelphia-based Swan Records to release the single that was flying off the shelves in the U.K.
John Lennon was one spinal cracker, alright. Who else would LSD guru Timothy Leary ask to write a campaign song for his ill-fated gubernatorial run against Ronald Reagan in 1969? Lennon set out to write a song based on Leary's campaign slogan, Come Together, Join the Party. His original lyric began, "Come together right now, don't come tomorrow, don't come alone." Leary felt the words were awkward and the song unusable. Little matter; the aspirations of the PhD psychologist-turned drug advocate would soon come to an end when he was imprisoned for marijuana possession. But by now John had a good title. And he ended up writing one of his edgiest, self-described gobbledygook songs, ever.
That was the pronouncement of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on the transformation of the Fab Four from the droll, cheeky mop-tops of 1964, to the lysergically induced hipster-gurus of 1967. Rumor has it that the Queen voiced this "turning funny" verdict to Sir Joseph Lockwood, chairman of the Beatles' British record company EMI, at a highbrow Buckingham Palace event that took place at the height of the boys' cosmic journey into all things metaphysical.