Music Video Of the Week - November 24, 2023

 "Oh My My" by Ringo Starr (Go to the link in the upper-right-hand corner.)

Music Video Of the Week - March 25, 2022

"Back Off Boogaloo" by Ringo Starr  (Go to the link in the upper-right-hand corner.)

The Concerts For Bangla Desh - Fifty Years

It was fifty years ago today, Sunday, August 1, 1971, that George Harrison staged rock's first major benefit concert.

When the non-contiguous Pakistani region of East Pakistan, also known as Bangladesh, began a war of liberation from the rest of Pakistan with the support of India, the Pakistani military responded brutally, creating a humanitarian disaster that was compounded by a tropical cyclone that hit the region.  Sitar player Ravi Shankar, whose family came from East Pakistan, went to George Harrison and asked him if there was anything he could do.  Harrison did the only thing he, as a musician, knew how to do - stage a benefit concert to raise money for the people of East Pakistan as they strove to overcome the odds of poverty, oppression, and natural disaster and create a new Bangladeshi nation. He was able to get the top musicians of the time to participate, including Billy Preston, Leon Russell, and Shankar himself.  But the biggest coup Harrison pulled off was getting his buddy Bob Dylan - who had only played once concert in the previous five years (the second Isle of Wight festival in 1969) - to take part.

The twin concerts at New York's Madison Square Garden - an afternoon show followed by an evening show - were nothing short of magic.  Backed by a band that included Eric Clapton, bassist Klaus Voormann, drummer Jim Keltner, Pete Ham of Badfinger, and Taj Mahal guitarist Jesse Ed Davis, Harrison performed his biggest Beatles hits and choice cuts from his All Things Must Pass solo album, along with his charity single "Bangla Desh."  Preston also shone when he performed a rousing rendition of his song "That's The Way God Planned It."  Leon Russell - then the hottest singer-songwriter in rock and roll - did an astonishing medley of the Rolling Stones' "Jumpin' Jack Flash" and the Coasters' "Young Blood," bringing rock down to the core of its rhythm and blues roots.  There was great applause when George Harrison brought out a special guest - Ringo Starr, who sang his new song "It Don't Come Easy," providing the closest anyone ever got to a Beatles reunion in the seventies.  (John Lennon had been invited to take part and agreed to do so without his wife Yoko Ono, per Harrison's insistence, but Yoko's objections led to his withdrawal; Paul McCartney agreed to participate provided Harrison agree to the dissolution of the Beatles' legal partnership, to which Harrison said no can do.)    Dylan's sets of each concert were the highlights, though, with Harrison and Russell joining him for one of them.

Ravi Shankar opened each show with his orchestra, performing Indian classical music, at at one show, as seen in the movie, the audience committed a faux pas after several minutes of music when they applauded Shankar and his musicians.  Shankar thanked them for appreciating the tune-up and promised that they'd appreciate the performance even more. 😄

On a negative note, Stephen Stills, who was on tour promoting his second solo album and had performed at the Garden two days earlier, donated his stage and sound equipment to the Bangla Desh concerts but Harrison inexplicably didn't think to invite him to play in them. 

The proceeds from the concert and the subsequent album and movie got held up in all sorts of legal difficulties, but once those problems were all resolved, the money started flowing to Bangladesh - in 2021 marking a half century of independence - totaling $45 million by the 1990s.  Harrison has since been recognized as a farther to the modern Bangladeshi state. Shankar, for the record, was pleased with the results.  "In one day, the whole world knew the name of Bangladesh," he later said. "It was a fantastic occasion."

The Concerts for Bangla Desh is too monumental to do justice to in my Music Video Of the Week feature.  Instead, here's an audio-only video of the concert for your listening pleasure.  (Sound quality may be spotty.) 

Music Video Of the Week - June 11, 2021

"It Don't Come Easy" by Ringo Starr  (Go to the link in the upper-right-hand corner.) 

Music Video Of the Week - July 17, 2020

"Weight Of the World" by Ringo Starr  (Go to the link in the upper-right-hand corner.)

Ringo At Eighty

And now, to a real musician . . .

Ringo Starr, the older of the two surviving Beatles, is eighty years old today, and he's still active.  One would have thought he would be retired by now, since he hasn't had a hit single since the early eighties and because he's never been as consistent in his songwriting as the other Beatles.  But he sings better than most people give him credit for, and more importantly, he's the consummate entertainer, always delivering songs with a smile in his voice and a twinkle in his eye.  His own acknowledgment of his ordinariness - "What's a skinny little scruff like me doing in a band like this?", he famously asked when in the Beatles - is what made him a legend.  It's his ability to not take himself to seriously that gave him his longevity.

In previous years, Ringo has celebrated his birthday the same way.  Wherever happens to be, he counts down to twelve o'clock noon and, with those in his company, calls out "Peace and Love," a mantra mantle he inherited from John Lennon.  This time, though, ihanks to COVID-19, he will be having a virtual concert at 8 PM Eastern Tie and be joined by Paul McCartney, along with a little help form his other friends - Joe Walsh, Ben Harper, Sheryl Crow, Gary Clark Jr and Sheila E - t oraise money for four causes (Black Lives Matter, The David Lynch Foundation, MusiCares and WaterAid). While Ringo probably won't record another album again (thigh he has hinted at an extended player), he may yet still perform with his All-Starr Band (whose lineup consists of whoever happens to be in the room, or these days, on Zoom at the time) when the pandemic is over, which means we could still see him on stage in 2021.  Or 2022.  Let's hope so.  We need him to stick around and stay healthy for as long as he can and keep making us smile.

Rock on, Ringo  Rock on.

The Beatles - The Final Days

The last time all four Beatles were together at EMI Studios at Abbey Road was on August 20, 1969 to finish the Abbey Road album.  But, as we have already seen, there were in 1970 four more Beatles recording sessions with least one or three Beatles in attendance to tie up the loose ends of Let It Be.

On April 1, 1970, Phil Spector oversaw in Abbey Road's cavernous Studio One the very last recording session for a Beatles record before the breakup was made official, which involved overdubbing an orchestra on three of the Let It Be album's songs, all but one of them having actually not been recorded during the January 1969 sessions from which the album was conceived.  This fourth Beatles recording session of 1970 featured one Beatle - Ringo (below, in 1970), who played drums on all three songs along with the orchestra.

Again, the three songs in question were John Lennon's song "Across the Universe," George Harrison's "I Me Mine," and, the only song from the January 1969 tapes involved here,  Paul McCartney's "The Long and Winding Road."  The results were quite telling; the former two songs benefited from Spector's orchestral overdubs, while "The Long and Winding Road" suffered tragically.  The difference was likely due to the fact that the former two songs had been professionally recorded from the start, while "The Long and Winding Road" was recorded live in a makeshift studio and had deliberately been stripped down.  The take of "The Long and Winding Road" that was used, from January 26, 1969, wasn't the best take the Beatles had recorded - the definitive version was probably the one recorded five days after as seen in the Let It Be movie - but it was by no means in need of lavish overdubbing.  Listening to Spector's version of the earlier take and then listening the overdub-free version of that same take, issued in 1996 on Anthology 3, is like looking at a picture of a beautiful woman wearing elaborate makeup and then seeing a picture of the same woman with her plain face; you're more drawn to the natural beauty of the plain version.

Be that as it may, Spector certainly put his stamp on the three songs he overdubbed.  "Across the Universe" was the most successful example; he took the recording used for the remix that had appeared on the World Wildlife Fund charity album and slowed it down to make John's voice sound more natural, omitting the wildlife sound effects from the earlier remix and adding the orchestra and a choir of fourteen vocalists with great subtlety.  His work on "I Me Mine" was also impressive, extending the song's length by 51 seconds and giving the song a greater sense of urgency and drama with the orchestra and choir.  His overdub on "The Long and Winding Road," though, was pure Mantovani, the sort of "beautiful music" associated with doctors' offices and dinner with your grandparents.  Spector didn't arrange these songs himself - he gave that honor to Richard Hewson, who, ironically, arranged the McCartney-produced Mary Hopkin single "Those Were the Days" - but the sonic quality more than lived up to Phil's "wall of sound" technique.

This session presented numerous problems, most of which were Spector's doing.  While most producers map out the way a record will sound only when the basic tracks are recorded, Spector wanted to hear the final product as it was being recorded, which led to him making numerous demands; he failed to grasp that Abbey Road was not equipped for his unorthodox method.  Ringo, using his status as a Beatle, took him aside and calmed him down.  Spector's biggest mistake, however, was to try to pull a fast one by giving the musicians three musical parts when they were only booked for and paid for two.  The con job failed, and the musicians walked out.  Engineer Peter Bown went home, and Spector conceded.  The musicians got their extra payment, and Bown was called back to help finish the session.  Noting that the session happened to be on April Fool's Day, Bown would later say that Spector's deception was "one April Fool's joke which did not come off."

In all, Spector's overdub session cost £1,126 and 5/ - more than twice the cost of recording Please Please Me, the album Let It Be was intended to emulate.  In 2020 American money, that price for the overdubs comes to $21,638.86.

The next day, Spector and Bown remixed the newly overdubbed songs - the seventh and final session for assembling Let It Be - and Spector quickly informed the Beatles that the record was done and awaiting their approval.  John, George, and Ringo approved it.  Though Paul McCartney also approved the album in order to facilitate its scheduled May release, he was disgusted with Spector's work on one song in particular - no prizes for guessing which one - and by now he had had enough.

On April 9, 1970, after having spent the past seven months trying to keep the group together, Paul sent out a press release announcing his departure from the Beatles.

To be continued . . .

I'd Like To Be Under the Sea

Having finally completed and contributed "Don't Pass Me By" to the Beatles' White Album, Ringo Starr needed a break from the group, which was part of the reason he walked out of the White Album sessions and stayed away for ten days.  In that time, he took his family to Sardinia for what Americans call a vacation and what the Brits call a holiday.  The break proved to be beneficial for Ringo, as it not only allowed him to recharge himself and recommit himself to the Beatles, but it also allowed him to further his nascent songwriting abilities. 

Ringo and his family were staying on a boat owned by his good friend Peter Sellers, where he first tasted calamari - squid - and found it somewhat rubbery. The captain of the boat regaled Ringo about some of the local marine life around the island, including the octopus - which turned out to be a delicacy in Sardinia.  He told Ringo that octopuses like to collect stones and shells and arrange them in patterns on the sea floor, as if they were in a garden. Ringo, who was frustrated with the escalating tension in the Beatles, thought of how he'd like to just jump into the sea and relax in an octopus's garden.  And so a new song, which debuted on Abbey Road, emerged from our hero.   

"Octopus's Garden" instantly recalled "Yellow Submarine," that other Beatles song about going under the surface of the ocean to find peace - which was sung by Ringo as well.  But there are a couple of differences.  First, Ringo takes us under the sea without a vehicle, which is an important distinction.  The black American poet and activist Amiri Baraka famously despised "Yellow Submarine" because he heard it as a metaphor for white people isolating themselves from the problems of the outside world.  (If there is a milestone marking the point where white music and black music began to be as segregated from each other as it was before Elvis Presley and Little Richard, this may be it.)  Unlike "Yellow Submarine," which is about going undersea in a hermetically sealed craft, "Octopus's Garden" envisions the joy of swimming in the ocean and being at one with nature, communing with the aquatic life below rather than being separated from it.   

The other thing about "Octopus's Garden" is that it's not a psychedelically inspired song like "Yellow Submarine."  Here, Ringo employs a country and western vibe, producing a sound faintly foretelling the country-rock sound that would dominate the Los Angeles music scene and American radio in the early seventies.  For a nice touch, he added the sound of bubbles being blown in the instrumental bridge.  If there's anything psychedelic about this song, it's not intentional.  George Harrison, who loved the line "We would be warm below the storm," said that "Octopus's Garden" ought out spiritual fulfillment in he same manner of his own songs.  "It's like this level is a storm," George said, "and if you get sort of deep in your consciousness, it's very peaceful. So Ringo's writing his cosmic songs without noticing."

Ringo brought "Octopus's Garden" to the Get Back sessions in January 1969, and a clip from the Let It Be documentary shows Ringo, George and producer George Martin working on the song for possible inclusion on what became the Let It Be album.  (It didn't, of course, and Let It Be is one of only two Beatles albums on which Ringo does not have a lead vocal.)  The Beatles began recording it in April 1969, with Chris Thomas and the group co-producing, for indeterminate future use, as Abbey Road hadn't been begun with any seriousness just yet.  The song would be completed that July.

The genius of Octopus's Garden is that, like "Yellow Submarine," it was conceived as a children's song, except that, while "Yellow Submarine" has elements of a drunken Salvation Army band tune, Ringo makes it clear that his song is pointedly meant to comfort children, as "Octopus's Garden" presents the octopus not as a scary sea monster but as a welcoming creature.  The friendly octopus will let you in his garden where every boy and girl, regardless of race, creed, or color, know they're safe, swimming around the coral and resting their heads on the ocean floor.

Small wonder that Ringo turned his song into a 2014 children's book, an illustration from which by Ben Cort is shown above.

The song has been very good to Ringo over the years, being selected for generations of grammar-school choral groups to sing, being used in a Muppets segment on "Sesame Street" to teach kids about the number eight, and appearing on the set list of many an All-Starr Band show.  Even if Ringo had never written another song again (fortunately, in his solo career, he did - "It Don't Come Easy" may be his best song ever and one of the best hit singles of 1971), he assured a place for himself as a songwriter in his own right with this unforgettable tune.

Review - 'The Beatles: Eight Days a Week: The Touring Years'

It has been said - I'm sure - that the last thing we need is another Beatles documentary.  Ron Howard's new movie looking at the concert-tour era of the Beatles' career blows that nonsense out of the water.

Eight Days a Week isn't just one of the best movie about the Beatles ever made - it's the first and only movie to focus on their years as a live band and how the excitement they generated was key to spreading Beatlemania from Britain to America and the world beyond.  New insights from Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr and archival reminiscences from John Lennon and George Harrison  illustrate how thrilling it was for the band to play live in their early days and invigorating it was to take the world by storm.

As Eight Days a Week progresses into 1965 and 1966, the ennui of touring shows as the Beatles were continuing to advance musically in the recording studio.  Their concerts - rare footage of which offers some astonishing samples of how pervasive and engrossing Beatlemania was - evolved from exciting musical performances to what Lennon called "tribal rituals"; indeed, some of the live music included here is ragged and sloppy.  Eight Days a Week also puts the viewer in the center of the action, with photos and dizzying footage of the group taking the stage, traveling long distances on planes, and dealing with the press.  There are some eye-opening anecdotes, too, like when the Beatles forced racial integration of the Gator Bowl in Jacksonville as a condition for performing there.   Philadelphia TV newsman Larry Kane, one of the many figures interviewed for the movie, traveled with the Beatles and covered them on their 1964 North American tour for the Miami radio station he was working for at the time; his specific memories and documentation of his time with the group are especially revealing.  Even the familiar stories of the Beatles' time on the road, particularly the controversy over John Lennon's statement of the Beatles becoming more popular than Jesus, are seen from a fresh perspective and give a picture of how grueling the road was for the group.  (Also worthy are comments from fans and observers such as Elvis Costello, Whoopi Goldberg, and Malcolm Gladwell.)

Fifty years after their last stadium concert at San Francisco, Eight Days a Week makes clear why the Beatles had to end their concert career, and how rock and roll benefited from their decision to do so; Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and Abbey Road couldn't have existed had they continued touring.  Howard's documentary, which ends with a clip of the Beatles in their last public performance from January 1969 on the Apple rooftop for Let It Be, ultimately succeeds in its main purpose; it brings Beatlemania as it played out in the mid-sixties back to life.  You had to be there, but if you weren't, this is the best (and only) way to experience it. 

(Note: During its theatrical run, Eight Days a Week is followed by a remastered, re-edited version of the film of Beatles' 1965 Shea Stadium concert.  It's an astonishing document, showing a confident foursome playing in perfect sync and giving one of their best live shows ever, despite the primitive sound system and the screaming fans. It is more than worth the price of admission.)         

Ringo!

Ringo Starr turns seventy today. And he's still active. Ringo (you can't call him Starr) is bringing his All-Starr Band on tour yet again this year, and he's playing Radio City Music Hall tonight. Sadly, I can't make it.

How do you account for the former Beatle's longevity? It could simply be that Ringo doesn't take himself too seriously, and he's always being underestimated. He's used these qualities to his advantage throughout his career. In the Beatles, he served as the group's Everyman, the average bloke holding together three rock musicians of extraordinary talent with his steady, industrious drumming. Although not a virtuoso, he was a solid drummer for the group, but because he wasn't technically superior, he's usually left out of the lists of great rock drummers, the most thoughtful of which would include Charlie Watts, Keith Moon, John Bonham, Creedence's Doug Clifford, and Neil Peart (and as a Family fan, I would throw in Rob Townsend, who, incidentally celebrates his 63rd birthday today). But Ringo should be there too. His stick work on "Rain" and "Strawberry Fields Forever" should be enough reason.

Ringo also gained notoriety for his plain, deadpan singing, which allowed him to turn slight songs like "I Wanna Be You Man" into masterpieces and add extra charm to the likes of "Yellow Submarine." And only someone with the whimsical wonder of Ringo Starr could have written a wonderful tune like "Octopus's Garden." But during the sixties,it was understood that a little Ringo went a long way. Wen the Beatles broke up in 1970, the question was obvious; how, how, could Ringo possibly make it as a solo artist?

Very well, actually. Ringo himself asked this question, and he made no secret of his desire for the Beatles to reconcile. preferring to be in a band than on his own. But despite a few bumps - and a long dry spell in the 1980s, when he recorded very little and battled alcoholism - he developed a respectable solo career for himself. His first solo album, Sentimental Journey, was a collection of Tin Pan Alley standards his mother used to sign at the local pub in Liverpool with her friends, and wit ha little help from his friends - each track on Sentimental Journey had a different arranger - he came through with a record noted for its honesty and Ringo's own love for the songs. Always a country and western fan, Ringo followed up with Beaucoups of Blues, an album of original songs supplied by producer Pete Drake, who got a little help from his friends, Nashville songwriters such as Sorells Packard and Chuck Howard. Ringo had already found a nice little sideline as an actor, his lack of pretentiousness making him an enjoyable screen presence. All he had to do was act naturally.

Ringo's biggest successes started with two singles he wrote himself, 1971's "It Don't Come Easy" and 1972's infectious "Back Off Boogaloo," both produced by George Harrison. The straightforward lyrics of the former song and the jokey atmosphere of the latter ("Back Off Boogaloo" was inspired by a saying used liberally by T-Rex frontman Mark Bolan) made both songs huge hits, and when Ringo teamed up with producer Richard Perry to record the albums Ringo (1973) and Goodnight Vienna (1974) he had truly found his voice as a singer and as an entertainer. Unlike the lofty ambitions of his former bandmates in their music - John Lennon's activism, Paul McCartney's symphonic pop, George Harrison's spiritual pursuits - Ringo only wanted to please people and make them smile.

By the late seventies, though, newer, younger acts had taken over the charts, and Ringo was affected by this as much as any other veteran rock and roller. Maybe even more so - Atlantic Records dropped him when his 1977 album Ringo the 4th barely made it onto the charts (at number 199), and he was soon exasperated by the whole record business. In the past twenty years, though, Ringo has re-invigorated himself, reveling in his own showmanship, and quietly putting out new albums that have registered with the small but loyal audience that buys them. With producers such as Mark Hudson and Dave Stewart behind them, some say they may be his best work yet. And he's carried that joy and fun in his All-Starr Band concerts, one of which this blogger saw at an outdoor venue in New Jersey in the summer of 1992. (The remnants of Hurricane Andrew got everyone wet with rain, but no one cared. Everyone was too busy having a good time.)

My mother once said that Ringo is the only "normal" Beatle. By that, she meant that Ringo is the only Beatle who's like the rest of us. He doesn't think he's an Important Artist. He doesn't put on airs. He's never had reason to find himself; he knows who he is. He's probably the only Beatle who could blend in at a British pub singalong or at an American barbecue. He's the Beatle you'd rather have a lager with. Heck, he's the only Beatle who's never been in a drug bust. He's the only Beatle to put out a Christmas album. (Which is ironic - before 1999, when his I Wanna Be Santa Claus album, produced by Mark Hudson, was released, he was the only Beatle who hadn't yet put out a Christmas record; the others had put out singles.) He's always been an ordinary average guy, and his bewilderment at his own success is what's made him so popular and resilient. He is, to be blunt, one of us.

So, happy birthday to Mr. Richard Starkey of Liverpool 8. Cheers! :-)

The Beatles On CD . . . Again

When the Beatles' catalog was first issued on compact disc in 1987 - seems like a long time ago, huh? - EMI righted a wrong that had long gone uncorrected, restoring the Beatles's first seven albums to the way they had been issued in the United Kingdom (Capitol in the United States padded them out to ten titles). Paradoxically, the Beatles were among the last artistes from the vinyl age to be reissued on CD. And although posthumous releases of previously unreleased Beatles material in the nineties and two thousand zeroes made the most out of the format (especially the Anthology series), the original catalog was never remastered with the most advanced technology, making the audio quality of the 1987 issues seem stale.

Until now. Apple Corps has announced that on September 9, 2009, the entire Beatles catalog will finally be remastered for a new generation of fans. The CDs will be packaged with the artwork from the original U.K. releases (plus the Capitol-compiled Magical Mystery Tour album, which gathered all of the tracks from 1967 outside Sgt. Pepper), along with new liner notes to complement original album notes, rare photos (there are Beatles photos we haven't seen yet?), and, for a limited time, embedded documentary films about each of the original albums. The Past Masters CDs, which gathered the 33 nonalbum tracks the Beatles recorded, will be merged into one.

The albums were remastered by of engineers at EMI's Abbey Road Studios in London over four yeas, using the latest recording technology and 1960s vintage studio equipment to maintain the sound of the original releases to ensure the highest fidelity possible. All fourteen albums will be issued in stereo, hence the first four Beatles albums (Please Please Me, With the Beatles, A Hard Day's Night, Beatles for Sale) will be in stereophonic sound for the first time. The stereo releases will be gathered n a box set along with a DVD compiling the miniature documentaries. A second box set will compile the original Beatles mono releases as well, for those who prefer the mono sound of the earlier records (and truth be told, audiophiles prefer the monophonic versions of the first four albums and the earlier singles).

This is the most ambitious issue from Apple since the Anthology series, maybe even since the original Beatles CD issues. A splendid time will indeed be guaranteed for all. :-)

The release date - September 9, 2009 - is appropriate. It's the ninth day of the ninth month of the ninth year of the century.

John Lennon always considered nine a lucky number. :-)