"Are the Beatles waning?" (1967 article)
Diana
Dec. 31, 1967
Are the Beatles Waning?
By RICHARD GOLDSTEIN
The Beatles are clown-gurus of the Sixties. Their jester's approach to
``serious'' music and ``deep'' thought clamors for interpretation, and their
intentional embrace of ambiguity sets a tempting critical trap: how hard it is
to resist when ideas are the bait.
``Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band'' has become this year's
most-analyzed piece of pop art. The Beatles have found themselves compared
(often favorably) to a vast panoply of musical and literary figures. Never
before has the critical establishment responded to a rock work with such
vigorous acceptance. By the time the Partisan Review declared, ``The Beatles
are now beyond patronization,'' the die had been cast; it was de rigueur to dig
the ``new'' rock.
At the same time, it was duly noted that the Beatles popularity was waning
where it had always been frenetically constant _ among the very young. To
neo-Bealtemaniacs that was the inevitable result of artistic complexity. But
the most ``literate'' rock audiences are those under 20, who have come of age
with their music. If these people are deserting the Beatles, it is because
their former idols have departed from rock _ its sound, its structure, and its
specific brand of sensuality.
The Beat is no longer implicit to the Beatles. In its place, they have created
a collage of sound-images masquerading as Brechtian vaudeville. Sometimes this
free inquiry into the nature of pop art stuns with a resonant power; at other
times it seems capricious and gimmick-ridden. But rarely does it rock. The
latest Beatles album, ``Magical Mystery Tour'' (Capitol 2835), makes this
schism even more apparent. It opens with a strong back-beat, but this is merely
a conceit; it offers no musical indication of what is to follow. In fact, the
six new songs on this album (written to accompany a television special which
will be broadcast here in mid-March) represent six distinct styles.
The Beatles are now concerned with expressing given themes through mode as well
as content. Each of their most recent songs is distinguished not only by what
it wants to say, but by how it chooses to say it. In ``Magical Mystery Tour,''
the Beatles vary tempo, orchestration, lyric structure and vocal color to
achieve sounds which illustrate moods.
When George Harrison nasalizes ``There's a fog upon L.A.'' at the start of
``Blue Jay Hill, '' we are engulfed with a waft of foggy music. While the hero
of ``The Fool On The Hill'' sees the world spinning round, we whirl gently amid
dizzy rhythms. And when John Lennon asks in ``I Am The Walrus,'' ``Don't you
think the joker laughs at you,'' background voices titter derisively.
All these touches exemplify an approach to song that is closer to programmatic
music than it is to rock. Even the care taken in the packaging of a Beatles
album reflects this fascination with motif. The Beatles are so profoundly
conscious of their own evolving style that they sometimes lose track of things
like melody and lyric in favor of ensemble effect. Scratch the surface of
``Magical Mystery Tour'' and it bleeds like show music.
This electronic posturing is what I found fraudulent in ``Sergeant Pepper,''
and it is even more apparent here. Both the album's theme song and its
nostalgic refrain, ``You Mother Should Know,'' are motifs disguised as songs.
Both declare their moods (in stock musical phrases) but neither succeeds in
establishing them. Instead, these cuts are as tedious and stuffy as an
after-dinner speech.
``Flying,'' as instrumental interlude, is more interesting, if only because it
is more modest. I glides ge _ [PAGE IS CUT OFF] _ disarming melody well
realized.
``Blue Jay Way,'' a George Harrison composition, is filled with fascinating
tones and textures. Harrison has always shown a fine sense of musical effect,
but his writing is obtuse and muddled. I don't question his vision, just his
ability to present it effectively. ``Blue Jay Way'' is no less ungainly than
``Within You and Without You.'' This time, Harrison entreats over and over,
``Please don't be long,'' but it is a plea he refuses to take personally.
Worse, he declaims in a hoarse half-whisper that reminds me more of sandpaper
than Satori. Harrison's contribution to the sound of the ``new'' Beatles is
mere obbligato.
``The Fool On The Hill'' is a nice song, and so easy to adore. It says the
right things about alienation, and it says them rather simply and well. A
lilting recorder brings up the rear of this melancholy march, and Paul
McCartney's melody is the most haunting thing on the album. The fool as
visionary is a common theme, and the approach here is less than original. But
there are lovely ways of presenting clichÀe, and this is one of them.
Finally, there is `'I Am The Walrus,'' a naughty Beatles song, and their most
realized work since ``A Day In The Life.'' Set on the tawdry side of Penny
Lane, it is filled with eerie split-second glimpses of English life. This
walrus struts, puns, and bristles in perfectly wicked Lennonese:
``Yellow matter custard dripping from a dead dog's eye Crabalocker fishwife
pornographic priestess, boy you been a naughty girl You let your knockers
down.''
``I Am The Walrus'' is a fierce collage, and its musical structure mirrors this
fragmentation. The Beatles shriek and wail in chorus behind John's voice. High
frequency noises and rumbling static compete with the melody, while a rhythm
section ascends at the song's conclusion, in slow, even measures. Behind
everything else, a voice offers its own crackling commentary at the
proceedings, breaking into a speech from ``King Lear.''
I don't know what all this means, but is suggests a world much like that of ``A
Day In The Life,'' where the news is bad and John Lennon (now a Walrus, with a
drooping moustache) would like to turn us on. Because he is an artist, he does.
There are five additional songs on side two of this album, and they have all
been previously released as singles. I am especially fond of the pomp in
``Penny Lane'' and the pageantry in ``Strawberry Fields.'' ``Hello Goodbye''
and ``Baby You're A Rich Man'' sound like B-sides; they are interesting but
subordinate. ``All You Need Is Love'' turns me off because it tries too hard to
be a nonchalant anthem. Its sloppiness sounds not only intentional, but fake.
Does it sound like heresy to say that the Beatles write material which is
literate, courageous, genuine, but spotty? It shouldn't. They are inspired
posers, but we must keep our heads on their music, not their incarnations. In
that critical distance lies the deepest sort of respect.
- - - - - -
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young.
~ JOHN LENNON ~
1940-1980
There has never been a great spirit without a touch of insanity.
I.M. Down
news:20001208180156...@nso-fr.aol.com...
> http://www.nytimes.com/library/music/123167lennon-beat.html
>
> Dec. 31, 1967
>
> Are the Beatles Waning?
> By RICHARD GOLDSTEIN
Is this just one of Dick Rowe's pen names?
-Jamie M
Strabbo
news:90rqml$pvj$1...@nntp1.ba.best.com...
> >
> > Are the Beatles Waning?
> > By RICHARD GOLDSTEIN
>
> Is this just one of Dick Rowe's pen names?
>