(The Praeger Singer-Songwriter Collection) Ben Urish, Ken Bielen-The Words and Music of John Lennon-Praeger (2007) (18 page)

instrumentally.

Rock ’n’ Roll

The film
American Graffiti
(1972) had been a surprise hit, and its soundtrack

of pre-Beatles rock and pop (the film was set in 1962) spurred a small revival of

interest in such songs. That, coupled with Lennon’s love of the era, prompted

him to contemplate an album of rock and roll/rhythm and blues covers. At the

same time, music publisher Morris Levy won a lawsuit about Lennon’s “over

borrowing” from Chuck Berry’s “You Can’t Catch Me” for his Beatles song

“Come Together” on
Abbey Road,
forcing Lennon to agree to record at least

three songs owned by Levy’s company, ostensibly on Lennon’s next album.10

Lennon decided to turn himself over to Phil Spector as producer, not with Spec-

tor working under him as previously, but with Spector completely in charge.

The idea of Lennon romping through some prime rock and roll/rhythm and

blues classics sounded irresistible, and the project was tentatively called
Oldies

but Goldies
(jokingly cal ed
Oldies but Mouldies
by the participants), and sessions

convened in October 1973 as his
Mind Games
album was released.

By all reports, the sessions were a disaster almost from the start. Spector’s

idea of making each number a miniature symphony, layered to create his

patented “wall of sound,” simply could not work for every selection and,

more often than not, drained the primal vitality out of the songs. What was

66 The Words and Music of John Lennon

left was a lethargic, droning husk devoid of any spark or energy. Lennon was

reportedly no help at all, as his interest quickly waned and he began drink-

ing heavily. Outtakes reveal Lennon and Spector sniping at and baiting each

other when Lennon is not rambling on the edge of embarrassing drunken

incoherency. Almost three months of steady work had produced only a hand-

ful of tracks before both men cracked under the strain and the project was

temporarily abandoned. Spector promptly disappeared with the recordings

and Lennon soon moved on, pulling himself together to produce
Pussy Cats

with Harry Nilsson.

Later in 1974, after
Walls and Bridges
was released and Morris Levy did not

see the three agreed-upon songs included in the album, he met with Lennon

to press the issue of the settlement. Lennon’s successful collaborations with

Elton John and Ringo Starr were completed, and he had gained control

of the recordings from the October to December 1973 sessions helmed by

Spector. Lennon decided he had barely half an album of salvageable material,

and even those numbers needed new vocal tracks. He hastily reconvened

several of the musicians he had used on
Walls and Bridges
and set to work

repairing what he could of the Spector recordings and coming up with new

material.

Once finished, he gave copies of the tapes to Levy, who prepared them and

released them as a special television offer called
Roots: John Lennon Sings the

Great Rock and Roll Hits.
Apparently, what Lennon had thought was talk of

an idea, Levy had thought was a gentleman’s agreement verbal contract to

proceed. Lennon sued to stop further sales and rushed his own version out.

Two songs, “Angel Baby” and “Be My Baby,” made Levy’s
Roots
collection

but not Lennon’s
Rock ’N’ Roll.
The running times of some of the songs

were also a little longer on
Roots,
not being faded out at the same point.

In addition, two other songs from the Spector sessions, “Since My Baby

Left Me” and “To Know Her Is To Love Her,” were passed over by both

collections but were later included on the
Menlove Ave.
album along with a

Lennon-Spector original composition, “Here We Go Again.”

The album starts with a rave-up version of the Gene Vincent classic “Be

Bop-A-Lula” that bounces along nicely and features a vocal that sounds like

Lennon is enjoying himself. The production is perhaps a bit too smooth

for rockabilly purists, a problem with much of the album in general, but

remains engaging nonetheless. If only the entire album were this effortless at

capturing the joy and excitement the original recordings must have instilled

in Lennon, it would be the classic it should have been.

Since the album was hurried into release, there was no advance single to

help promote the record, as was Lennon’s usual custom. This time, a single—

“Stand by Me”—came out three weeks
after
the album was issued. In a move

to try and make up for the tardy release, in addition to increasing notice and

sales, the flip side was not another rock and roll oldie from the album, but a

What You Got, 1973–1975 67

track composed by Lennon and not included on any Lennon album to that

date, “Move over Ms. L.”

“Stand by Me” is one of the stronger numbers on the album. Lennon kicks

it off with an acoustic guitar line that is suspiciously similar to the one he used

when recording “Only You” for Starr a couple of months previously. The song

builds wonderfully as electric guitar and then acoustic piano slowly trickle in

before the rest of the band, including a full horn section, descends on the first

chorus. The number stands out, however, due to Lennon’s masterful vocal

interpretation as it moves from simple declaration, through tentative plead-

ing, to earnest shouting, finally trailing off in semi-uncertainty.

A different, though just as sterling, performance was given by Lennon

when he was filmed performing the song for the television show
The Old

Grey Whistle Test
about five months after recording the track. Lennon is again

clearly enjoying himself and manages to slip in a greeting to his son Julian

and others back in Great Britain, makes fun of how many times he has to

sing the title line, and sings the opening lyrics from “Unchained Melody”

over the start of the guitar solo, thereby pointing out the songs’ similarity.

Lennon’s joy is palpable and infectious without spoiling the emotional mood

of the song.

Lennon had attempted “Move over Ms. L” during the sessions for
Walls and

Bridges
but never tackled it to his approval. Reconvening the same musicians

for this album and cranking them through the rock and roll oldies must have

made him think they had developed the feel for it and they attempted it

again, this time getting it to Lennon’s satisfaction.

The song is another fast-paced rocker with Lennon’s characteristic

wordplay and mixed clichéd phrases strung together in near non sequitur

runs spouted over the driving rhythm. One clichéd phrase, “they’re starving

back in China,” turned up on his song “Nobody Told Me,” recorded in

1980 and released after his murder. Other lyrical observations that hurtle by

include the seemingly censorable paradox that “you can’t get head in a head

shop” and what in 1975 would be the broadcast-halting observation that

“your jeans are full of crap.” Verses aside, the chorus is reputedly a nod to

Ono, as Lennon sings the title coupled with “you know I wish you well.”

Lennon gives a full-throttle vocal performance, sometimes belting out the

lyrics, stretching notes into lengthy screams, and exhorting the band several

times with shouts of “whoo-ooo-hoo!” “hey-hey!” “alright!” and “that’s

right!” Closer listening, though, reveals that some of those may be redubbed

into the mix—but no matter, partially artificial or not, it remains a lively

performance that boosts the recording into being of more than marginal

interest.

The
John Lennon Anthology
has a slightly looser version, without the horn

section and overdubs, but with Lennon’s exuberance intact. Bootlegs from

the earlier attempts during the
Walls and Bridges
sessions are also available.

68 The Words and Music of John Lennon

The medley of “Ready Teddy/Rip It Up” lasts only a few seconds more

than a minute and a half, but Lennon’s throaty vocals and a great horn

section work to make it one of the most successful tracks on the album, and

the production succeeds in staying out of the way. There should have been

more numbers like this on the collection.

Chuck Berry’s “You Can’t Catch Me” was the song that was the impetus

for the oldies collection, since Lennon used it as partial inspiration for “Come

Together” on the
Abbey Road
album. This is a product of the Spector sessions,

and, although it goes on a bit too long with its repetitive riffs, it is not too

bad. Then again, it is not particularly noteworthy either.

Lennon’s take on “Ain’t That a Shame” is another winner along the lines

of “Be Bop-A-Lula.” Once again the arrangement is fairly straightforward

and Lennon’s gritty vocals with a touch of echo keep the song rocking. There

is a certain slickness here that is possibly a bit “too good” for some tastes,

but, all in all, this is another excellent track.

In “Do You Want To Dance?” Lennon’s love of reggae shows up again in

the arrangement for this favorite that was often covered. In fact, a cover hit of

the song by Bette Midler had made the top 20 as relatively recently as 1973.

The reggae idea does not quite come off as well as it might, but Lennon at

least gets points for trying. All but buried in the mix are amusing vocal asides

from Lennon, including him answering the titular question with “I’m not

quite sure!”

“Sweet Little Sixteen” is another one of the Spector tracks, somewhat

weakened by a puzzling choice in the arrangement that has pauses between

some of the vocal lines, causing a lessening of the momentum the song tries

to build lyrically. And, again, the repetitive horn lines do not find much of a

groove or lay a foundation but instead emphasize the faults of the question-

able arrangement by becoming monotonous.

“Slippin’ and Slidin’ ” is a standout track in every way, with the band

(especially the horn section) roaring from the first bar and Lennon in fine

form throughout. Good as it is, Lennon topped it later in the year when he

performed it for
The Old Grey Whistle Test.
Lennon is absolutely bursting

with joy in the broadcast performance; relaxed, joking, and in full command.

At one point he remarks that the band is a “lovely little group” and quite

amusingly pretends embarrassment at messing up the timing of the ending.

The rendition is simply wonderful.

An energized version of Buddy Holly’s classic “Peggy Sue” follows, com-

plete with hiccups, and the slightly affected vocal makes this one of the more

enjoyable entries of the collection. “Look out!” an excited Lennon warns

before the band launches into the section of well-known guitar break. The

cut is brisk and clean without being antiseptic and hence a superior effort.

Lennon’s voice is partially obscured by the chorus early in the medley of

“Bring It on Home to Me/Send Me Some Lovin’,” almost as if he were

just another chorus member and not the lead, hampering the song to some

What You Got, 1973–1975 69

degree. But by the time of the transition to “Send Me Some Lovin’,” he sings

solo and lifts the song out of the ordinary into a couple of minutes of heart-

felt enthusiasm. If the first part of the track were as impressive, this would be

one of the better cuts.

A grumbling, fuzzed guitar line anchors Lennon’s front-and-center

double-tracked vocals on “Bony Moronie.” Lennon shouts and chomps his

way through the number, with some nice comments during the fade out.

Once again, though, the slightly plodding Spector production pulls things

down and takes the edge off a good number. Lennon certainly tries, though,

and almost salvages the track with his grating (in a good way) vocals.

Lennon threw away a performance of “Ya Ya” as a sop to Levy on
Walls

and Bridges,
but here he does it for real—more or less. Lennon tries to inject

a little energy, urging the band to “boogie down one time” and adds a yelp

for good measure, but the track never really takes off. There does not seem

to have been much to work with at the start. The aforementioned Tony

Sheridan version has more life.

“Just Because” is surely the best of the Spector tracks, but, like the others,

Lennon had to redo his vocals to make it releasable. Everything works on this

recording, from the solid low horns, through the choppy rhythm section, to

the erratically noodling keyboard. Of special enjoyment are Lennon’s vocals

that range from the appropriately histrionic to the almost absurdist spoken

passages. After debating how old he might have been when the song came

out (never getting it right, for those who are curious), Lennon turns in one

of the best vocals in an album often salvaged by his vocal performances. A

nearly ridiculous recitation passage includes Lennon saying good-bye to his