Category Archives: music

vintage jam (this is hardcore edition)

Because I finally got the LP reissue of This is Hardcore in the mail today,–you know, the one that I ordered in February (thanks Plain Recordings, you really dropped the ball on this one)—here‘s the video for Pulp’s This is Hardcore. In my opinion, this is pretty much the best pop video out there. And seeing as how the video embedding is “disabled by request” (thanks a lot Island records, very forward-thinking of you), I’ve substitued the video with a bunch of “outakes” from the LP’s sleeve. These (poorly scanned by me–someone repaired for me the Ed McMullin style staples-in-center one—thanks, dude) pics were included in the booklet that came with the reissue of the CD a few years ago. So, yes, I’ve bought this record (or received it as a gift) at least three times.

advertising

Bing Crosby records. 1962.

years after the event (john and yoko november 1970)

John and Yoko November Image

It was not to be November, but it was for a time. In Queen Charlottes Hospital, London. Photograph: John Kelly.

November

November detail

Here‘s Lennon, seemingly in the Dakota era–after years of threatening to re-record several fabs songs he never felt he had gotten quite right, messing around with “Help!”

who’s a man that we admire

notorious

The raw rapper, spine snapper, the Greatest of All Time (and life-long smoker), Biggie Smalls.

“We hit every club, every radio station, you know? We get our little eye screws and everything but I just tell them straight up, ‘yo, you know you love me. It’s real. Come on, you don’t got Ready To Die? There you go…'”

frank white

years after the event (john and yoko october 1970)

may photo

Arrival in a watching world. Picture by Associated Press at premiere of “In His Own Write”

october 1970

october detail

If this image looks familiar, it’s because my John and Yoko calendar has a page that repeats and you’ve been following along quite closely (unlikely, I know). Anyway, the actual calendar page is for the month of October and to reward you for your patience, here‘s a mid-1970s John covering Sam Cooke’s “You Send Me” for his own enjoyment, and now yours.

years after the event: 1882

I doubt many people consider 1972 the creative highpoint of Paul McCartney’s now five decade-spanning career (I say “many people” because I’m sure there’s that one weirdo out there somewhere who would). It was the first year since 1963 that Paul hadn’t released a full-lenght LP, opting instead to put out a handful of mediocre-to-awful singles beginning with the quicky Bloody Sunday reaction song in reggae arrangement, “Give Ireland Back to the Irish”, followed by the cringe-inducing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” (Lennon, when asked to comment, said, “Why should I? What could I possibly add? The fact that he put it out is comment enough.”), and then the dippy by-the-numbers rocker “Hi, Hi, Hi”. Of this time, McCartney would later state, “Looking at it purely bluntly, there was sort of a dip for me and my writing. There were a couple of years when I had a sort of illness.”

These songs followed the previous year’s album, the first Wings LP, Wild Life, which was generally viewed as a disappointment . Of course I love it and rate parts of it alongside some of his non-Beatles best, but it is totally thrown together—and, by the way, do read that Rolling Stone review of Wild Life, that goddamn rag has seemingly always had an agenda against McCartney. To them, his chief crime is his not having been born John Lennon, though this paragraph rings true and finds the magazine offering a few uncharacteristic negative words against their beatle John:

“In many ways Paul is slowly regaining the upper hand, mostly by making many fewer hard-to-live-up-to significance-reeking pronouncements about his own life and society at large. Note, for example, that he credits Linda as co-composer on all of Wild Life’s new compositions, as well as co-producer, while Lennon, after going out of his way to sympathize with the feminist movement in “Power To The People,” scarcely allows Yoko to complete a sentence on national television.”

Anyway, while Paul was releasing his lightweight 1972 singles it seems as though he was keeping some of his more interesting material to himself. Case in point: the never officially released song “1882.” I have two home demos of this track, a bizarre narrative set in the titular year, and in my opinion the song ranks alongside his best work–not just his best solo work, I’m including fabs shit in this possible hyperbole. I found these demos on a bootleg album entitled “Wild Life Sessions” so I’ll trust the bootlegger that these tracks date from some time in 1971. Paul home demos from this time often give the listener a little bit of a glimpse into his home life: children and dogs can sometimes be heard carrying on in the background and, of course, Linda is often present.

The first “1882” demo is predictably the less complete of the two. It’s a simple Paul-on-piano track and some of the eventual lyrics aren’t yet present but the vocals are very strong. So strong in fact that Paul indulges in a chance to vocalize the guitar solo much like he did on the Kinfauns “Back in the U.S.S.R.” demo (that mouth-guitar solo by the way is nearly identical to the one on the finished record). I suspect that one’s tolerance for Paul making guitar solos with his mouth largely hinges on one’s level of admiration for him, but there is no denying the drama that he creates in the song’s bridge (or “middle eight” as the fabs called it). Roll up your sleeve while listening (play loud) and watch the goose bumps come out.

If the first version is only a Macca warm up, he’s absolutely on fire in the second. He’s brought Linda in for some backing vocals and she, too, vocalizes the guitar bits. The results are amazing. This may be the among the last gasps of Paul’s knack for marrying his extreme pop sensibilities and his more oddball tendencies—not to mention the last gasp of the hippie dippy style of songs that he’d been writing since he was in India in 68—before reinventing himself as the stadium-rock monster that he and Wings would become within a few years time. Wings in fact played “1882” during their first tour but the song was given a bland “classic rock” arrangement with lazily delivered vocals. I usually refer to the live “1882” as the bullshit version (I’ll look for a live version and post it here later for the curious). Evidence exists (here, for instance) that Wings recorded a studio bullshit version, but I haven’t been able to track that down (if anyone reading this has it, please make me aware of where I can download it). I can’t encourage you enough to download or at least listen to these two tracks (you can do either by clicking the links)—they are seriously McCartney at his best. If this song were the only thing that he ever did, I’d still give him a lifetime pass and forgive all of the “Mary Had a Little Lamb”s and “Spies Like Us”es that litter the McCartney years that follow.

As a bit of a bonus, Here’s another bootlegged track from around the same time as “1882.” It’s an in-the-studio fuck-about instrumental version of “Tomorrow,” the original of which on the Wild Life LP. This rendition finds Paul messing around with some sort of synthesizer. It sounds like something off of a robot Tighten Up album from Mars and is one of the better weirdo McCartney one-offs this side of Thrillington (stay tuned, I’ll post that one eventually). It’s great weird stuff. (Don’t miss this either.)

gimme shelter

“Brothers and sisters, brothers and sisters, brothers and sisters, why are we fighting?”

Gimme Shelter. 1970. David Maysles, Albert Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin.

“Altmont was the culmination of a long series of bad trips in the Rock world and its perhaps perfect matching of the most sinister figures in American and British Pop cultures, The Hell’s Angels and the Rolling Stones is one of those master strokes of history beyond the invention of any fiction writer or film-maker…Bravo, you measly brothers! You’ve captured on film the epic of a self-destructive generation.”
Albert Goldman, The New York Times

what’s wrong with being sexy?

warrant cherry pie

Hair metal also-rans Warrant know how to treat a lady.

warrant

Update: I forgot I had found this picture too. It’s pretty unfortunate. I sort of like how at least the two suits/management types are at least somewhat half-hearted in doing whatever it is that one calls that gesture. Someone must have forgotten to tell that guy in the front.

years after the event (john and yoko september 1970)

john and yoko september image

John and Yoko as Paul saw them in BMI Recording Studio. Photo by Paul McCartney.

I’m sort of hitting a snag here because my John and Yoko calender (perhaps all of these John and Yoko calenders) has a mistake in it where the month of April repeats. I also wonder if that is supposed to read “EMI Recording Studios.” Nothing but the best from Apple Records. Here’s April again I guess.

april 1970

Here are two different versions of Lennon’s “Nobody Told Me,” one is a home demo, the other is a studio outtake.

overblown and silly

All hail Macca’s 1973 James Paul McCartney TV special!

Recorded during February and March 1973 and produced for ITV in the UK and ABC in the States, the James Paul McCartney TV special originally aired in the US on Monday, April 16, 1973. Someone has finally put this on youtube in its entirety and it is actually not that bad. The songs performed range from among Paul’s best (“Maybe I’m Amazed,” “Heart of the Country” and, um, “C-Moon”–yeah, I like that one) to among his absolute worst (“Mary Had a Little Lamb“). Watching it is a good way to kill an hour even if you’re only in it to gasp at the various hairdos and fashion missteps (how could McCartney go from being one of the most fantastically dressed people on the planet circa 1968 to dressing like the fullblown dipshit that he did a few years later?) but there are also some really surreal for prime time television moments the likes of which would never fly today (see the oddball interpretation of “Admiral Halsey”–oh, and, dare I say it, Linda looks kind of hot in the opening of that one too).

More with-it critics were predictably unimpressed with Melody Maker saying “McCartney has always had an ear and an eye for full-blown romanticism, and nothing wrong with that, but here he too often lets it get out and hand and it becomes overblown and silly.” When asked to comment, Lennon was surprisingly kind, “I liked parts of Paul’s TV special, especially the intro. The bit filmed in Liverpool made me squirm a bit. But Paul’s a pro. He always has been.”

I think that this is an outtake from the show. Paul singing “Heart of the Country.”

James Paul McCartney TV Guide