Is there anyone out there who might be unaware that the Beatles rock the stratosphere? Doubtful, I know, but every day is born into this world a wide-eyed innocent who may never comprehend this fundamental truth.
And I wouldn't blame a youngster for not getting the memo, or for not believing it when it makes the rounds. I'm always suspicious when a previous generation tries to foist its heroes on me. I remember seeing Elizabeth Taylor on television in the 80s and being assured that she was the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet. Given the fact that the woman was clearly an alien, not to mention that Diane Lane was currently steaming up movie screens in Streets of Fire, this was just one more piece of evidence that grown-ups were all brain dead.
But The Beatles don't really have to compete with either their own past or the artists of the present. Their work stands alone in its own little universe, and if some of it seems dated that's only because they absolutely defined the time they were working in. So many other artists tried to do what The Beatles were doing... and failed.
All this fawning is prelude to my fawning review of Let It Be ... Naked. Recent Beatles releases and reissues always have to defend themselves against the charge of beating a dead horse, or milking a dead cow, or something morbid involving a farm animal. Some become essential (Yellow Submarine songtrack!) some are just as pointless as you might think (Free As A F:)cking Bird!).
But Sir Paul really did the world a favor by going into the vaults and revisiting Let It Be. The version we're all familiar with was not a fair representation of the work the musicians put in during those ill-fated sessions. (This BBC review covers the history well, I don't want to repeat it yet again.)
Phil Spector's tampering and string sections aside, I think Mr. "Wall Of Sound" really picked inferior performances of most of the tracks. The "informal" (read "amateurish") feel of the record was emphasized by snippets of studio chatter. Everybody loves 'em ... they define the album, right? Let It Be starts with John Lennon barking "I DIG A PYGMY by Charles Haughtree on the Deffanes! Phase one, in which Doris gets 'er oats!" or something phonetically similar. Fact is, these guys were all very witty, and "it's a laugh a line with Lennon," but the end result is that band feels exhausted and a bit out of sorts. They miss key notes in the vocals, throw in impromptu harmonies and guitar solos that jar ... it doesn't mesh with the fact that this same band went back into the studio a couple of months later and cranked out Abbey Road, their tightest, most visionary record since Revolver.
Article comments
1 - Barry Stoller
Is the above some really dry form of satire? Payola? Reviewing this moribund piece of junk - AGAIN? And dissing Liz? Seriously, dude, rent a copy of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and dig why people rave about Ms Taylor years after the era - that flick has TONS more 1960s juice than anything on the Beatles' deadest recording session since God retired from show biz.
2 - Al Barger
Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf is fine, but if you're particularly looking for HOT SEXY Liz, Taming of the Shrew really does the trick.
3 - John Voorhees
Oh, I've got nothing against Liz Taylor NOW. When I was growing up and everyone was telling me how gorgeous she was and I had no real evidence to back that up (not having seen her younger days), then I was tripping. She was a spectacular woman in the day, and remains a very, very talented actress.
Likewise, all I knew of Orson Welles in those days was that he was a huge man selling wine on television.
4 - Eric Olsen
Thanks John and welcome! Though I am less enthralled with Naked than you are, I really got a sense of why you like it so much and that's the best you can ask of a review.