RIPOSTE
by RIP RENSE |
|
THE
BEATLE GOES ON. . .
(Dec. 17, 2008)
So I read
Paul McCartney's claims that he “politicized the Beatles” after dropping
in on his neighbor, Bertrand Russell, and finding out that the Vietnam War
was “a very bad war.”
As opposed, one would
presume, to a “very good war.”
Here’s the
quote:
"Just when we were
getting to be well known, someone said to me: 'Bertrand Russell is living
not far from here in Chelsea, why don't you go and see him?' and so I just
took a taxi down there and knocked on the door. . .He was fabulous. He told
me about the Vietnam war – most of us didn't know about it, it wasn't yet in
the papers – and also that it was a very bad war.”
Naughty war! Mean ol’
Vietnam conflict!
So. . .
"I remember going back to
the studio either that evening or the next day and telling the guys,
particularly John [Lennon], about this meeting and saying what a bad war
this was."
Particularly John.
Ah, so now we know. Now
we know where Lennon got his inspiration to, years later, write
“Revolution,” “Working Class Hero,” “Power to the People,” “Woman is the
Nigger of the World,” “I Found Out,” “Gimme Some Truth,” “I Don’t Wanna Be a
Soldier,” “Imagine,” “Isolation,” “Give Peace a Chance,” “Free The People,”
plus songs that tangentially or implicitly made social/political statements.
Now we know where Lennon
got his inspiration to valiantly---some say insanely---devote his time and
fame to standing for human cooperation and opposition to war, to the detriment of his musical
career.
Now we know why Nixon’s
White House spied on Lennon, the FBI bugged his phone and followed him, and
why the United States tried to deport him.
It was all Paul’s doing.
Yes, cutesy Paulie was
the issues-conscious, politics-obsessed, activist-minded little Beatle!
Right, the guy who wrote such political blockbuster anthems as “Your Mother
Should Know,” “Honey Pie,” and “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.” Okay, to be fair,
let’s list his actual political numbers: “Give Ireland Back to the Irish" (1972), and. .
.and. . .well, “Blackbird” was about African-American women
struggling to be free, Paul claims (although nobody knew this until about 30
years after The Beatles broke up.) And. . .
Hmmm, guess that’s all of
‘em! Oh, wait---there was a B-side called “Big Boys Bickering” in the early
‘90s (actually very good), and a fine animal rights piece called “Long
Leather Coat” (co-written with the late Linda McCartney, I believe.) Okay,
guess that’s all of ‘em. Unless you insist on counting the probable nadir of
his recording career, the abominable nursery rhyme, “Freedom,” a cro-magnon
de facto
endorsement of Bush post-9/11 policy. (Let’s not.)
What next? Paul took heroin before John?
Paul rebuffed Yoko and sent her to John? |
Now, I should note that I am fond of McCartney, and an admirer of his
fabulous musicianship, relentless creativity, and the better songs in a
prolific solo career that is all too littered with embarrassing
crapola.
I’ve always pulled for him, all the way back to when he was effectively the
music director/bandleader of The Beatles. Without his urging, the group
might have broken up with the “white album,” and there certainly would never
have been a “Sgt. Pepper” (or, probably, “Abbey Road.”) For all the great,
affecting Beatles songs, which is more moving than “Hey Jude?” The man
deserves his enormous laurels.
If only he’d rest on
them.
The charming (if
name-dropping) anecdote of the poorly educated, politically
naive young pop star dropping in on an old sage in the person of Russell, and getting a dose of the ugly
real world in the bargain, is certainly true. It would be innocuous and
only charming were it not for the context of Sir Paul forever seeming
to do battle with his ex-partner’s poor ghost. To recap:
Notably, there was the
ridiculous, shameful ego flatulence of trying to switch credits on Beatles
songs written largely (or entirely) by McCartney to “McCartney-Lennon”
instead of “Lennon-McCartney.” What a slap in the face to “peace, love, and
brotherhood” that was. The Beatles were a cooperative unit---in McCartney’s
own words, a “democracy.” To have tried to retroactively impose a bit of
tyranny just didn’t fly, and to his credit, Sir Paul dropped this nonsense
(especially after Ringo Starr publicly criticized him for it.)
Since then, though, it
seems that every few months there is yet another McCartney interview in
which he claims to have been “into avant-garde music” before Lennon, or to
have been the “first” in the group to have done thus-and-such. (This has its
roots way back in the 1967 interview in which he revealed having taken LSD,
despite an agreement among The Beatles to keep their use of the drug quiet.)
The most recent such remarks come in the context of his efforts to release a
Beatles sound-collage he supervised during the “Pepper” sessions called
“Carnival of Light.” Count the number of interviews in which he says he beat
Lennon to “Stockhausen.” He just loves to say “Stockhausen.”
You could get used to it,
up to a point. Get used to his incessant playing of the mellotron intro to
“Strawberry Fields Forever” in interviews (yes, he certainly composed it), get
used to him talking about various lines that he claimed to have contributed
to Lennon songs (“he blew his mind out in a car” from “A Day in the Life”),
how he allegedly wrote the melody for Lennon’s “In My Life,” etc. After all,
it’s history, and he helped make it.
But now it’s politics,
and the clear implication that he inspired John's interest in same. What
next? Paul took heroin before John? Paul rebuffed Yoko Ono before she met
John? (Well, he did financially support the Indica Gallery where
Lennon met Yoko at her art show there. Gad.)
Poor McCartney---he can’t
help himself. One is left to ponder whether it’s egomania or insecurity that
drives this tragic, unseemly aspect of his character. Or maybe they’re the
same thing. He is obviously worried that “posterity” will get his work all
balled up with John’s, and not give sufficient due to his role in The
Beatles. This is sort of like Churchill worrying about not being given
sufficient due for his role in World War II. It’s ever-so-slightly apparent.
John genuinely believed that the song was
entirely his, when the only line he probably wrote was “cranberry
sauce.” |
I mean, in contemporary
musical culture, Lennon-McCartney is as wedded a term as
Rogers-and-Hammerstein, if not more so. There is nothing Sir Paul can do
about it, and he should not wish to do anything about it. It’s undignified.
What’s more, he would do well to remind himself that collaboration is not
black-and-white, cut-and-dry, but more subtle. Would he have written
“Yesterday” were he not part of the creative energy synthesis that was The
Beatles? (And frankly, that song's string arrangement is so much a part of
it's success that one could argue for George Martin to be co-credited.) To
seemingly engage in a braggadocio war with someone who isn’t here anymore is
just dreadful.
And yet, there
are hidden truths in the Beatles’ myth that merit clarification. I was
fortunate enough to engage in an exclusive series of interviews with
McCartney in the early ‘90’s, taking place over a period of weeks, on a
cruise ship docked in Patagonia, at midnight. I was keenly interested in
knowing exact details of his contributions to The Beatles. He was reluctant
to open up, apparently so as not to seem ungallant, immodest---but by the
second day, to my astonishment, that dramatically changed. Perhaps he
suspected that I had an unusual grasp of Beatles history, and that I would
present the information responsibly, and only when the time was right, in a
fair context.
The time is right.
And so I can reveal here,
for the first time anywhere, that Paul McCartney wrote “Strawberry Fields
Forever.” That’s correct. Lennon was so stoned at the time that he forgot
that he “nicked” the lyric and melody from Paul during an all-night
acid-saturated jam session at his home in Weybridge. John genuinely believed
that the song was entirely his, when the only line he probably wrote was
“cranberry sauce.” Yes, I think a no, I mean a yes, but it’s all wrong---pure McCartney (and very reminiscent of you say yes, I say no, you say
stop, but I say go go go from “Hello Goodbye” from the same period!) No
wonder Paul plays that mellotron bit in every at-home interview he does.
There’s more:
“Hello Goodbye” was
originally written as an anti-war song with the working
title, “Hello Hanoi.” You say bomb, I say no/ I say peace/ and you say
war-a-go-go. Though McCartney never quite hashed the lyrics out, he
ditched the idea when Lennon persuaded him that it would be too
controversial (having had his fill of controversy with the “more popular
than Jesus” insanity.) So Paul settled on passing it off as a nonsense song,
though the existing lyrics were, at least in his mind, a comment on the
USA’s inability to decide how to handle the war.
“Rocky Racoon” was
conceived as a black power themed number called “Don’t Call Me ‘Coon,’” and
“Mother Nature’s Son” was first an anti-Nixon ballad entitled “Mother----r’s
Son.” "Your Mother Should Know," not so surprisingly, was actually about
abortion. Again, Paul was talked out of these volatile subjects---which would
have caused quite an uproar in 1968---by John, who suggested he instead
stick with “nice lullabies and those great granny tunes.”
Surprised? You ain’t
heard nothin’ yet.
It was McCartney, not
Brian Epstein, who “discovered” The Beatles in the Cavern Club. Of course,
Paul was in The Beatles at the time, but this is a niggling point. (“I was
the one who really saw the potential here, and told Brian.”) Also, Paul
revealed that he not only named Ringo (“because he was ringing me up all the
time, asking me how to play drums”), but he dissuaded Ringo from getting a
nose job and thus “destroying his image and career.” It was Paul who
suggested that George take up Indian music one night as both dined together
in a London curry joint. (“He thought I was daft, but he always did what I
said---well, until ‘Let it Be’.”) It was Paul, not
Astrid Kircherr, who came
up with The Beatles’ hairstyle in Hamburg. (“I couldn’t be bothered to comb
it, I was so tired from playing all-night sets, and the next thing I knew
Astrid and Klaus were doing it, then passing it off as theirs.”) The most
famous Lennon-McCartney collaboration, “A Day in the Life,” is ass-backwards
on the credits. Paul wrote the verses, and John wrote the “woke up, fell
outta bed. . .” middle passage. (“He begged me to switch. Well, we were
partners, and I was just being gracious.”) It was Paul, not Ringo who came
up with the phrase, “a hard day’s night,” but “I gave it to Ring and told
him to say it to the lads, knowing that John would want to make a song out
of it, which I wrote the middle-bit for. So in a way, I wrote the whole
song.” It was Paul who advanced the
notion that The Beatles were more popular than Christ, during a conversation
with John influenced by particularly powerful hashish, "but I told him never
to say it publicly or they'd crucify us. Well, he did, and that's our John."
Remember that rather
cryptic Lennon line from "Glass
Onion," but here’s another
clue for you all/ the walrus was Paul? Well, it’s true that the Beatle
in the walrus costume in “Magical Mystery Tour” was indeed McCartney, but
what Lennon did not bother to tell you was, as McCartney revealed
exclusively to me, is that "the other lads didn't show for the photo
session, so I put on all the animal suits and they pasted them together."
That's right, the other three costumed figures on the album cover---the
rabbit, the rooster, and the hippo---were also Paul! "John had first
written, here's another clue for you all, the walrus, rabbit, hippo,
and rooster were Paul, but I told him it was a bit difficult to sing, so
why not just make it 'walrus.' I mean, I didn't need all that credit."
On the subject of his
competition with Lennon, Sir Paul had only this statement:
“Well, I’m chuffed to
have had such a great partner, y’know, but some things get a bit mixed up,
the history, y’know. I’m not a stickler, but I do like to get credit for my
work. But every time I say something, the papers are full of, ‘Now, he’s at
it again, trying to rewrite the past.’ So I can’t win.
"But you know, I did
help John a lot with the odd lyric and melody. I knew about Yoko before he did. I
listened to Stockhausen first. Stockhausen. And remember all the daft clues
on the album covers and songs about me supposedly getting killed in a car
crash? Well, I don’t want to take anything away from John, but I was dead
first.”
© 2008 Rip Rense. All rights reserved.
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