Showing posts with label Nina Simone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nina Simone. Show all posts

Thursday, August 29, 2019

Here Comes Something

Although fans regard George Harrison's White Album songs as his best work in the Beatles, his Abbey Road songs are undoubtedly his most popular work with the group.
The first of these songs, "Something," was actually written during the White Album sessions.  George did a run-through of "Something" while the studio was being set up to record his song "Piggies," and co-producer Chris Thomas liked "Something" so much that he suggested to George that the Beatles record that instead, ensuring him that it was worthy of release.  A nonchalant George said that maybe he'd give it to Jackie Lomax, the singer he'd discovered for Apple, for a single. 
Apple had even made a bigger discovery in the form of American singer-songwriter James Taylor, who was signed by Apple A&R man Peter Asher (brother of Jane, partner of Gordon), and George had a good reason not to want to give "Something" to him.  Because one of James Taylor's songs inspired it!
Taylor recorded a song for his Apple album called "Something In the Way She Moves," and George was moved to write a similar song.  Both songs start with the same lyric - the title of the Taylor song - but apart from the sentiment of having a woman by one's side, the resemblance between the two songs ends there.  "Something In the Way She Moves" has an entirely different set of verses and a different chorus, and as recorded in 1968, it's a brittle, sparse song that opens with a harpsichord.  (Most listeners are more familiar with the more relaxed, re-recorded version that appeared on Taylor's 1976 greatest-hits compilation, his first album having been out of print throughout the seventies for legal reasons.)  "Something," the George Harrison song, was recorded by the Beatles as a lush power ballad, anchored by Paul McCartney's bass and Ringo Starr's tumbling drums, with an understated guitar solo and a similar low-keyed piano line from John Lennon backed by a string arrangement from George Martin.  Despite taking a line from James Taylor - who left Apple with Peter Asher, his manager and producer, after Asher was fired by Allen Klein from the label - George said he was trying to write a soulful ballad in the style of Ray Charles, and the feel is indeed far more soulful than the more folkish leanings of Taylor's song.
Little did George know that the song would define his time with the Beatles forever.  The group hadn't planned a single to accompany Abbey Road, and so when Allen Klein decided that a corresponding single was needed, he instigated the release of "Something" as a 45.  It was released as a single in the United States on October 6, 1969, five days after the American release of Abbey Road, and it was released as a single in Great Britain on October 31 of that year - more than a month after Abbey Road's September 26 British release.  Thus, "Something" is the only Beatles single in either country issued from an already issued album.  But it was also the first and only Beatles single written by George, which was long overdue.  George was surprisingly as nonchalant about such a milestone as he'd been about the song itself.  "They blessed me with a couple of B-sides," he said at the time, "but this is the first time I've had an A-side.  Big deal!"
It was indeed.  It was a big hit on both sides of the Atlantic, and while it only made number four in Britain - understandable, since record buyers in Britain usually bought singles and albums, while Americans tended to buy either singles or albums - it hit number one in the U.S., meaning that even casual record buyers who didn't invest much in LPs wanted this song in their collections.  In fact, "Something" became the Beatles' third bestselling single in America, after "Hey Jude" and "I Want To Hold Your Hand." Frank Sinatra (below, in 1969) called "Something" "the greatest love song in fifty years, and he recorded it and performed it in concert.  He once told his audience that the song was indicative of Lennon and McCartney's songwriting genius . . . inadvertently yet perfectly summing up George's role in the Beatles. :-D
The crediting error notwithstanding, one must wonder what song from 1919 that Sinatra - who released an album of Rod McKuen songs in 1969 - must have been thinking of, and why Lennon and McCartney couldn't match it.  As for George's attitude toward John and Paul for being dismissive of his work, he told them, "Maybe now I just don't care whether you like 'em or not, I just do 'em."
And what he did was not just admired by Sinatra but by Joe Cocker, who was the first artiste to record "Something" - before the Beatles! - for his second album, though it came out after Abbey Road.  George in fact played guitar on Cocker's recording.  (For the record, Jackie Lomax never recorded "Something," as George once envisioned.)  Other cover versions came from James Brown, Shirley Bassey, and, I kid you not, Ray Stevens.
But that wasn't all.
"Here Comes the Sun" was George's other contribution to Abbey Road, written in the spring of 1969 when he chose to spend the day in Eric Clapton's garden rather than go to a business meeting at Apple.  It was the first really warm day since the end of winter, and George found bright optimism in the change of seasons.  Clapton's garden inspired a song that felt as warm and inviting as the sun itself, with a light folk melody anchored by time signatures inspired by Indian music.  The Beatles' recording - for which John was absent - centered around George's inviting acoustic guitar line, augmented by the enveloping comfort of the sound his Moog synthesizer.  It's the sound of renewal, the sonic equivalent of a bright ray of light piercing the fading winter clouds.  The Moog, together with George Martin's score, is a potent symbol of spring having spring again.
Not too many songs encapsulate the mere pleasure of sitting in a garden, though Stephen Stills' Manassas song "Johnny's Garden" (inspired by a garden on an English estate he'd bought, Johnny being the gardener) is right up there with "Here Comes the Sun."  The Beatles' original recording of this song could have easily been released as a single in Britain and America as a follow-up to "Something."  It never was (though it appeared as the B-side to "Oh! Darling," another Abbey Road track, in Japan), but the song would find success on singles charts in the form of covers.  Steve Harley and his group Cockney Rebel released their version of "Here Comes the Sun" as a single in 1976, and that record went to number ten in Britain.  In America, though, Richie Havens' 1971 version of "Here Comes the Sun," which made it up to number sixteen on the Billboard singles chart, is the definitive cover.  Here is a clip of Havens performing the song on the German pop show "Beat-Club" in 1971.
As Beatles author Chris Ingham noted, George's song struck a chord with many black American performers who, having come out of the civil rights struggle, expected better times to come, which is why Nina Simone covered "Here Comes the Sun" a year after Havens did; they saw the song as a metaphor for their optimism.  As for this version, Ingham wrote, "This elated, upbeat campfire arrangement for acoustic guitar, pedal steel and bongos captures the Woodstock vibe Havens was famous for."
Maybe if John Lennon and Paul McCartney had taken George as seriously as Frank Sinatra, Joe Cocker, Nina Simone, and Richie Havens all did, the Beatles might have stayed together into the 1970s and made some fine records matching if not exceeding Abbey Road.  But in the fall of 1969, it was already too late for that.

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Money For Nothing

It's that time of year again, when I comment on the latest class of Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductees.  The class was officially inducted in ceremony last week (April 14).   This may the best class in a longtime, for one simple reason - no rappers are included!
And yes, I saw that Kendrick Lamar won a Pulitzer Prize in arts and letters for his artless word salad, a distinction no rock and roller has ever achieved.  I can hear it now from rap fans - "White racists are upset that Kendrick got a prize no white guy with a guitar ever got - HA!"  Go jump in the lake, ya crummy clowns.
So what of this year's inductees?  Well, they're a mixed grill, but they're still more or less deserving of the honor of being enshrined in the great hall in Cleveland.  So let's take each act one by one:
Bon Jovi.  Bon Jovi were one of the most annoying bands in the 1980s.  Their songs were puffed up by lightweight pop-metal arrangements and their lyrics were weighed down by obvious clichés. So why do they belong here?  Their music got better over time. "Who Says You Can't Go Home," from 2005, has a good, fist-pumping vibe, and even some of their older songs sound better with age; the more you listen to "Livin' On a Prayer," the more meaning and heart you derive from it.  Also, Jon Bon Jovi is a nice guy who's donated to worthy charities.  He's not the arrogant jerk we remember from the Reagan years, and I don't think anyone misses that guy.  Also, he has a great sense of humor, Asked once what he thought of having inspired so many pop-metal bands of the late eighties and early nineties, he replied, "I'm sorry."  Not exactly contrition of the sackcloth-and-ashes variety, but I'll take it.  
the Cars.  This one's a slam dunk.  The Cars re-invented power pop with a sleek New Wave style and appealed to fans who'd thought they didn't like power pop or New Wave.  The brilliance of "Good Times Roll" and "Let's Go" cannot be denied, and the achingly beautiful "Drive" was a strong enough song for former Family frontman Roger Chapman to cover. Also, anyone who's seen the Cars' promotional videos can appreciate their ability to poke fun at listeners and themselves - and their video for their single "Tonight She Comes" made much better use of model Tara Shannon (full disclosure - she's a Facebook friend of mine) than Huey Lewis and the News's videos ever could. :-D
Dire Straits.  Oh, come on, how could you not induct this band?  Mark Knopfler is one of the most articulate songwriters in rock and roll,, a subtle guitarist who remained true to rock's traditions while the punks were questioning the old way of doing things.  That talent produced great radio hits like "Sultans of Swing," as well as  clever observations like "Lady Writer," the great ballad "Romeo and Juliet," and the wildly misinterpreted satire "Money For Nothing," a song from their 1985 album Brothers In Arms disguised as a lament of the influence of MTV on rock but actually a lighthearted jab at blue-collar music fans who envy rock musicians.  And Brothers In Arms, with its heartfelt tribute to fifties rock, "Walk Of Life," and its gentle ballad "Why Worry" (a song Art Garfunkel worked into his repertoire), is one of the most humanistic LPs of the 1980s.   
the Moody Blues.  A pompous and pretentious album like 1967's Days of Future Passed should have disqualified these guys for induction, as it inspired several other "concept albums" in which, as Jimmy Guterman and Owen O'Donnell wrote in "The Worst Rock and Roll Records of All Time," "a performer in love with his own ideas erects a wobbly album around a concept that could be summed up in a simple three-minute song."   Days of Future Passed revolved around the theme of a day from dawn to darkness; Family proved Guterman and O'Donnell right just a year after with "Mellowing Grey," the second track on their debut album Music In a Doll's House (the fiftieth anniversary of the release of which is this July).  That song summed up a dawn-to-dusk passage of time in less than three minutes, and with much more tasteful orchestration.  And oh yes, Family aren't being inducted this year either.  So why should the Moody Blues get inducted?  Because they also came up with some good records, like their cover of Bessie Banks' "Go Now" (sung by original member Denny Laine, who later joined Paul McCartney's Wings) as well as songs like "Ride My See-Saw" from their 1968 LP In Search of the Lost Chord and "I'm Just a Singer (In a Rock and Roll Band)" from their 1972 Seventh Sojourn album.  I'm sorry . . . I have to forgive them for Days of Future Passed when I hear "The Voice" from 1981's Long Distance Voyager - that is a great song that qualifies them for Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction alone.
Nina Simone. Her social consciousness as a civil rights activist and her sultry delivery of songs such as "I Put a Spell on You" make her induction a no-brainer.  I have to wonder, though, what Simone, who died in 2003 (it was fifteen years ago today, in fact), would have thought of being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with the silly white boys mentioned above.  If anything, it would have been great, had she lived, to see her jam with the Moody Blues and hear her croon "Nights In White Satin" with Justin Hayward.
Sister Rosetta Tharpe.  Sister Rosetta got inducted for being an early influence. And why not?  She was one of the few female blues guitarists in the pre-rock era, and she used distortion and heavy riffs in her music, inspiring Carl Perkins, Chuck Berry, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix.  That enough is reasons to induct Sister Rosetta, the "Godmother of Rock and Roll."
A class comprised entirely of white male performers and black female performers, with the white guys representing pop-metal, power pop, straight rock, and prog and the black gals representing soul, blues and jazz, makes for an interesting spin on the idea of diversity, and this is as interesting as it's going to get.  Because you can bet your sweet candy bar that the inductees for 2019 will lean more toward the pop side of rock and also include at least one rap act for honkies like myself to blow a gasket over.  And a lot of more deserving acts will be snubbed, and I've already mentioned Family.  And I really don't see a reason to mention other snubs again (*cough cough*, Jethro Tull, *cough cough*) when there are so many rappers that the Hall is bending over backwards to honor.  Which means that, when he becomes eligible, Kendrick Lamar will be inducted.
The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame was originally established to honor rock and roll performers but has since gone on to include performers representing a variety of pop styles. DAMN!

Thursday, December 21, 2017

Just What I Needed

The Rock and Roll Fall of Fame inductees for 2018 were just announced, and they are a mixed grill at first glance, but they make sense after you look closer.  The inductees are Bon Jovi, the Cars, Dire Straits, the Moody Blues, Nina Simone and Sister Rosetta Tharpe.
So you have three bona fide classic rock bands, a band that debuted in the MTV era, and two female influences on rock and roll - Nina Simone for her sultry soul and Sister Rosetta for her folk-gospel guitar playing.  And, in case you haven't noticed, the inductees are all either white men or black women - a perfect summation about how the sisters influenced those of us who aren't exactly brothers.
Which is why I wasn't very happy when I heard about complaints about Nina Simone being included because she wasn't rock and roll. Uh, dudes, could I see you in my office?  Nina Simone sang the blues, the music that gave rock and roll its meaning, and she influenced every white male rocker with open minds and open ears - including the Beatles.  "Michelle" would have been a straight and uninteresting ballad if John Lennon hadn't convinced Paul McCartney to emphasize a different syllable in the song's English-language lyrics after hearing Nina Simone do something similar in her recording of "I Put a Spell On You."  Here I am trying to stick up for rock and roll, and you're not doing me any favors by spewing out the sort of racism and misogyny that makes me feel bad for Omarosa Manigault-Newman.
But, in discussing the merits of the inductees, I'm getting ahead of myself.  Suffice it to say that I'm glad the Cars are in, though I'm not sure about the Moody Blues.  But the induction ceremony is in April, so I'll expand on the class of 2018 at that point.
A lot of folks are bound to be ticked off by who wasn't chosen; nominees got voted down include Rage Against the Machine, the Eurythmics, Radiohead, Judas Priest, Kate Bush, Depeche Mode, the J. Geils Band, the MC5, The Meters, Rufus, Link Wray and the Zombies.   There's bound to be rage against Rage Against the Machine's failure to get in, people are probably yelling "Judas Priest!" over the snub against Judas Priest ( the band took its name from Bob Dylan's song "The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest," although it's also a wholesome curse used in old Hollywood movies in place of "Jesus Christ").  But of course, I have to, as always, note who wasn't even nominated - Jethro Tull, the seventies British band critics love to hate, and Family, the greatest band you've never heard.  Especially Family.  Rock acts have to have released their debut records no sooner than twenty-five years before to qualify for induction, and Family released their first record fifty years ago this past September - "Scene Through the Eye of a Lens."   I will also note that July 2018 marks the fiftieth anniversary of their debut LP, Music In a Doll's House, the greatest debut album of 1968 that isn't the Band's Music From Big Pink.  Twenty eighteen would have been the perfect time to correct this long-overdue snub of the greatest band to come out of Leicestershire, but since American record buyers couldn't be bothered with Family back in 1968, the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame can't be bothered with them today either.
But here's a modicum of hope for fans of any non-American rock act who didn't have the good fortune to achieve commercial success in the U.S.  Billboard magazine reports that the 2018 class was voted on by over nine hundred artists, historians and record-business members who "weighed factors including musical influence on other artists, and length and depth of career and body of work," as well as "innovation and superiority in style and technique."  Look, Family influenced other artists - Freddie Mercury, I understand, was a fan, as is Cheap Trick's Rick Nielsen.  Length and depth of body of work?  Seven albums in five years.  Good enough for me.  Innovation?  Superior style?  Listen to A Song For Me and Fearless and you'll see that Family had both in their favor.  And the fact that not just Americans but people from other countries are now voting in these Rock Hall induction elections means that British acts we Yanks aren't that familiar with should be able to get a shot.  The Soft Machine?  Kevin Ayers?  Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel?  Lindisfarne?  Pulp?  Why not?
But Tull?  If they can't get in now despite their huge American fan base, they never will.  But Family might one day get in . . . in their own time.