I wonder how many RTHers got the news of the death of John from Howard Cosell on Monday Night Football like I did? Probably not all that many as I know I’m an old-timer here. Shocking to think that it was 33 years ago, the memory is so vivid.
Maybe more amazing than the fact that 33 years have passed since John’s murder is that last week marked 12 years since George died.
Anyway, I’m more prompted to write this by having heard a cover of “Merry Xmas (War Is Over)” the other day on the local radio station that plays all holiday music from Thanksgiving through New Years (there must be one of those stations in every city, right?). I’m not sure who the artist was. A search on amazon shows 15+ covers and I’d guess the one I heard was by Sara McLachlan.
I’ve admitted to being an old-timer but now I’ll admit to being an old fart. I’m sorry, I’ll allow as how this song maybe, maybe, maybe could be covered but there’s no reason for a radio station to play anything other than John & Yoko’s original. It’s sacrilegious.
Agree? Disagree? Any other songs that should only be performed by the original artist?
I recently read a review for the following book, http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16293348-bang-bang, so I can’t claim to have thought of this idea but In the book, above (keeping in mind I haven’t read it), it sounds like Maxwell, the killer, brings his silver hammer down upon the head of his victims.
Here’s a part of the book’s description:
Youthimax is a cure-all miracle drug from Johnson and Johnson which has all but eliminated death in modern society. Which is great news. Unless you work at a funeral home. The O’Rourke Funeral Home in West Philadelphia has fallen into obscurity, along with it’s two sole employees. Max and Bligh waste the days away sleeping in coffins and counting shovels until that fateful day that they decide to become serial killers. The drunken Bligh finds serendipitous instructions in the Beatles tune “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” and convinces his partner that it’s only right that Maxwell kill with a silver hammer. With little business and less regret, Maxwell and his alcoholic train wreck of a partner become the most infamous serial killers in Philadelphia history…
This sounds like a job that the minds of RTH can take off and run with. So, give us your best elevator pitch.
Listen, I’m not one of those misogynist Yoko haters who blame her for breaking up the Beatles. As much as I grew up loving—and still love—the band, I think they broke up at the right time. By 1974, it would have stunk to have seen them go through their worst solo phases collectively. Imagine if they’d done like the Stones and survived into the ’80s and beyond? No thank you! There are enough 50-year-old fanboys still trying to pull off a variation of the moptop to carry on their would-be sagging legacy.
I’ll go one step further in making it clear that I’m not a Yoko hater: I think that, next to dropping acid, Yoko is the best thing that happened to John. It was cool seeing John grow up and become a somewhat peaceful family man. It gave me some hope during tough times. She seemed like a great match for John, and a cool person in her own right.
What I am is a music fan who is completely sick of Yoko’s attempts at making music—or perhaps I should say our attempts at liking it. I like Yoko’s first Plastic Ono Band album. It’s a great “F-U!” album, with John and that raw, minimalist band cranking out a racket behind Yoko’s screeching. She did some other screeching recordings in that format in the early ’70s that I also enjoy. Then she got the bright idea that she should sing actual lyrics with something resembling a melody. Beside her lone vocal line in “Bungalow Bill” and her chorus vocals on “Happy X-Mas (War Is Over)” I have felt that Yoko has no business going anywhere near actual lyrics and anything resembling a melody.
I mourned for the widowed Yoko as much as the next Beatles fan when John was murdered at the release of their Double Fantasy album, but I gladly skipped every one of Yoko’s songs. As a singer, she’s well beneath “rank amateur.” The likes of the B-52s could rave all they wanted about the influence Yoko had on them. They had a chance of getting a dinner invitation. What did I have to gain by pretending to like that shit? Julian wasn’t her kid, and I was way too old to have a play date with Sean.
Yoko’s still at it, and my Facebook feed is ablaze with people raving over her performance on the Late Show With David Letterman, backed by the so-cool-I-can’t-believe-I’m-worthy-of-living-in-the-same-world-with-them Flaming Lips (and Sean). If she’s not already, I bet Yoko will be trending today. Have you seen this yet? Check it out:
Between the stunning use of Badfinger’s “Baby Blue” in the conclusion to Breaking Bad, the end of a painful baseball season for my team, the most lopsided loss by my football team since 1972, and my first viewing of the above Gap ad, yesterday was certainly a Blue Sunday. At least I’m not a fan of the New York Giants.
I’m long past the days of getting outraged by the use of popular music in ads and I’m rooting as hard as anyone for Dhani Harrison to finally reach his potential as a reborn Let It Be-era George, but can this Gap ad be his last tantalizing stalling move? The “kid” is 35. Isn’t it time he takes a big step forward?
Over the weekend one of my favorite oddball songs from The White Album came up on my iPod, “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill.” For the first time ever I wondered, Who played the Spanish guitar opening of that song?
Whaddup with this? Did I miss this? Was this discussed around here already?
According to the YouTube poster;
This is a rare John Lennon song written during the Beatles famed 1968 trip to India accompanied by some great shots of the Fab. It’s about coming to India and trying to follow his heart, but knowing that his heart was really back in England where his love waited. It is speculated that Lennon didn’t release it at the time because it would have made public his feelings for Yoko while he was still with Cynthia Lennon.
Some other dude says;
it was recorded 11-12 years after the White Album was released
Jackie Lomax died on September 15, reportedly while attending the wedding of one of his children. That’s really sad. As a lifelong Beatles fanboy, I’ve known of Lomax and his excellent George Harrison-penned song “Sour Milk Sea” for years, yet I know almost nothing about him—or his take on releasing a debut album produced by Harrison and featuring all the Beatles but John and the band’s late-period buds. The songs that weren’t graced by Beatles and Co. feature the Wrecking Crew. Amazing.
Years ago I tracked down a copy of this debut album, Is This What You Want? It’s got its moments, most of which sound like mellow outtakes from Let It Be, if Ronnie Lane (or George) was fronting the band. It was not the Holy Grail album I’d hoped it would be. I’ve probably missed some landmark Mojo interview with Lomax, but I don’t think I ever came across an interview with the guy. I wanted to know more. Even in death, all I’ve read is the same couple of paragraphs and superstar associate names that I’ve been seeing for years. Isn’t the web supposed to provide details on the lives of anyone who’s done anything of public note at the touch of a few mouse clicks? What was cooking inside Jackie Lomax’s head all these years? Don’t we have a right to know?
(What do you know, I did happen across this piece!)
Well, of course not! However, I’m always curious to know how musicians make it through this life, whether they are wildly successful or not. In fact, it’s the “footnotes of rock” (no offense to anyone found at the bottom of the page) who usually interest me most. I welcome a link to or direct knowledge of more information. Maybe old Friends of the Hall Martin Newell (from the same town as Lomax, I believe) or Happiness Stan can fill us in. (Where oh where are you, Stan?) That said, I hope Lomax enjoyed his time on earth and felt he got the most out of making music, not in a stardom way but creatively. Here are a few of my favorite tracks from this album. Enjoy.
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