When it comes to James Bond title songs, nobody does it better than Paul McCartney. (get it?) Live and Let Die is epic in structure, three minutes of building an orchestra-infused tension to it’s breaking point, and then—ka-boom!—release to the reggae “middle-eight” (Linda’s influence, no doubt), then back to re-building for the penultimate ka-boom. As Bond songs go, it simply can’t be beat. (Although Duran Duran’s A View to a Kill comes close. I keed…)
This is McCartney pulling out the stops, working with Fifth Beatle George Martin to produce (and orchestrate) a song that, once again, is a Wings’ as a band, record. The song was released one month (!) after the release of Red Rose Speedway but sounds nothing like the album, and, instead foreshadows the rock and roll gems from McCartney and Wings that were soon to come.
The flip side, I Lie Around, is a terrific little ditty. The lead vocals go to Denny Laine, solidifying the band concept, which really does apply here, as McCartney himself takes the lead vocal during the last “…all over the place” jam-fest fade out.
On the plus side, George Harrison’s album Living in the Material World sounds great. Gone is the wall-of-sound, replaced with a cadre of fine musicians, most notably Harrison himself on the guitar, both acoustic and electric. He is in good voice, too. Mostly. (We’ll get to that.) The songs range from good to great, with but one misstep (We’ll get to that.) And while a “heavy” album, it’s not quite the arduous adventure as listening to the entire All Things Must Pass is.
On the negative side, with the exception of the opening (and single) Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth), Living in the Material World is not a whole lot of fun. Preachy spirituals, often conveying a cold harshness, are mixed with songs about his former bandmates—one almost rivaling Lennon’s How Do You Sleep?
The Light That Has Lighted the World is, basically, a plea to us, the fans, to stop putting Harrison in the Beatle Box and allow him his quest for spiritual enlightenment. Even when he was a Beatle, in interviews, Harrison was most aware of the Beatle trappings; which is why it’s interesting how often, as a solo artist, Harrison’s songs bring up his fellow band mates. Like Who Can See It for example.
The huge success of All Things Must Pass and his phenomenal orchestration of The Concert For Bangla Desh proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to Harrison and the public at large, that Harrison’s talents were, at least the equal of his fellow bandmates, Lennon and McCartney. Who Can See It is Harrison letting us, and his former bandmates, know that Harrison is more than a little bitter at the way he was treated when he was Fab.
In contrast to the bitterness of Who Can See It, Living in the Material World (itself a song of contrasts), as it relates to the Fabs’, is almost warm. While Ringo sang about his three fellow mates in Early 1970, Harrison actually name-checks them in Living in the Material World. It’s quite a fun, toe-tapping tune, with the middle-eight getting in the spiritual element. Musically and lyrically, it’s one of the album’s highlights.
The Lord Loves the One (That Loves the Lord) is a sermon, and while an okay tune, it’s still a sermon.
One of my favorite of all Harrison songs, Be Here Now just floats on perfection. Admittedly, when I first heard the song as a teenager, I just didn’t get it and pretty much dismissed it out of hand. But even then, the dreamlike melody worked its way into my subconsciousness, and I found myself humming it over and over. It wasn’t until later, when listening to it as an adult, that the lyrics, the line Be Here Now, in the present, in the now, made complete sense.
The Day the World Gets ‘Round is pretty odd, both lyrically and musically. It opens with the optimism of Lennon’s Imagine, but quickly turns politically pessimistic, until finally ending in a sort of ‘holier than thou’ accusation.
The last song on the album, That Is All, is a love song. To God? To a woman? To both? Yes. It’s a tad schmaltzy, in all the right ways and is a nice way to conclude the album.
I leapt over Try Some, Buy Some because it’s the odd man out. Living in the Material World contains some of Harrison’s best vocals in his career. But he is straining a lot on Try Some, Buy Some. (Probably because he used the same backing track used in the Ronnie Spector version, done in 1971. But her key is obviously not his key.) Why Harrison wanted to include the song to begin with is hard to say, because it’s not one of his best. Lyrically it’s preachy and covers the same territory as the title track.
By performing on such tracks in which Lennon and Starr took direct aim at McCartney (most notably, of course, being How Do You Sleep?), Harrison had given, at the very least, a tacit endorsement of the sentiments expressed. And while some of his songs reflect, many negatively, on his time in the Beatles, nothing he’d written, so far, had been so pointed at McCartney as Sue Me, Sue You Blues. Yes, lawyers take it on the chin, too, but Harrison pretty much makes it clear that he places all of the blame on McCartney, who had brought suits against Apple and the band in an effort to dissolve the partnership. The difficulties of disbanding were complicated to say the least, particularly with Apple Corps involved and the fact that McCartney did not want to be represented by Allen Klein. Since it was a three against one scenario on all fronts, all of the legal hooey got blamed on McCartney. But it seems clear that, because of the various deals, contracts, debts et al that were part of The Beatles’ package, even if the four were amicable, the dissolution of the band would still have been nightmarish. But the way it played out, McCartney was the villain, and as such, well the song tells the tale…
So, the song. It’s pretty darn funny and wonderfully cynical, in the cheeky way that was Harrison’s forte. The inspired blues-as-square-dance opening, where we get to serve eachother, with our lawyers by our side, all (save the lawyers, of course) eventually getting screwed, is pretty much a musical “lawyer joke.” (Although, for some reason, I never did like the last line of the verse, “Get together, and we can have a bad time.”) Musically the song is also fun, particularly George’s dobro-like guitar sound. It’s verse two where Harrison serves McCartney. While not actually naming him, it’s pretty clear that the last line in the verse, “All that’s left is to find yourself a new band.” is pointed directly at McCartney, who, as we’ve seen, was doing exactly that: finding himself a new band. While nowhere near as vitriolic as Lennon’s song, Sue Me, Sue You Blues is almost more depressing as it comes long after John and Paul had, more or less, made amends.
Ringo’s Photograph should have been a Beatle song. I suppose it kinda already is, considering it was written by Starr and—the finally credited although he’d helped Ringo write many of his songs—George Harrison. Further, George’s guitar playing, and particularly his backup vocal, which is really more harmonizing with Ringo throughout much of the song, Photograph is as close to a Beatle song from the former Fabs thus far. The production is a bit much, but maybe not, because what are you going to change? The strings? The choral backup vocals? The almost overwhelming drums? Certainly not the gorgeous acoustic guitar, which has a prominent place in the mix. No, Photograph is just right. It’s an interesting song, in that it’s kinda upbeat, yet the lyric basically says the relationship is over, kaput, with no chance of reconciliation, and “all I got is a photograph…” The first single from the forthcoming Ringo album remains a high point in Ringo’s solo career. Indeed, it’s a highlight among all of the solo Fabs’ releases. (Sadly, the song took on a whole other meaning when Ringo sang it during the Concert For George.)
The flip side, Down and Out is, well, a B-side. But it can’t be dismissed entirely because Harrison has a rip-roaring guitar intro and solo that makes the song worth listening to more than once. Klaus Voormann’s bass is kicking too.
As my mother’s name was “Helen”, McCartney’s Helen Wheels was always a personal favorite. (Because she didn’t realize the lyrics went, “Helen, Hell On Wheels”, my singing along marked the first occasion I’d cursed in front of my mother.) Released on the same day as Ringo’s Photograph single, Helen Wheels kicks into high gear at the get go with the two guitars—one in each channel—racing to the opening lyrics. An ode to McCartney’s Land Rover (!), Helen Wheels is pretty much the perfect car jam, best played cranked high, with the windows down of course! (I love the ending where Linda does the four-count to the fade. It’s the small things, I guess…)
The flip side, Country Dreamer is yet another Paul-in-the-country tune, but is one of the best. While it takes nearly 30-seconds to finally begin, the song is a jaunty ditty, with a terrific vocal by McCartney, and, during the chorus, the rest of the band. Steel guitar authenticates the country music-ness in all the best ways. The song is a sharp contrast to the A-side, and together the two songs make up, yet another terrific McCartney single.
A few weeks after Ringo and Paul released their singles, John releases both the album and single Mind Games. Except for one song (two, if you count the 4-seconds of silence that makes up the Nutopian International Anthem, which I don’t), Lennon steers well clear of the politics that infused Some Time In New York City. Made at the height of Lennon’s deportation hearings, and at the beginning of his and Yoko’s separation, the album’s lack of focus is understandable. But the fact remains, Mind Games, as an album, while not a failure, is pretty boring, particularly compared to Imagine and Plastic One Band.
Lennon had been working on the melody to Mind Games back in the Beatle Let It Be era, and the song is fine, maybe even single-worthy. Lyrically Lennon returns to his All You Need Is Love persona, which is nice, but somehow, now, artificial. (Lennon, himself, seems to get that he’s blowing some old smoke by ending the song with “I know, you’ve heard it before.”) I think Tight A$ is my favorite song on the album. I like Lennon’s return to a bit of rockabilly, he and the band seem to be having fun, and the lyric/title is pretty humorous. Aisumasen (I’m Sorry) is okay, but is a little too Lennon/Yoko specific. One Day (At a Time) is also okay. Heck, all of the songs on the album are “okay” but that’s just the problem. Nothing really stands out, not even Mind Games. Okay, I do really like the insanity that is Meat City. Maybe that’s my favorite song on the album. I wish there was at least one song that I loved on the album, a great song. Tight A$ and Meat City are fun songs, but nowhere near great.
Great would have to wait until Lennon's next turn at bat.
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