Tag Archives: john lennon

#1111: John Lennon – Remember

And with this, all the songs I really, really like from John Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band album have been written about. You’ll see no more material from the record on here. It’s been a fun run. Just over half of the album covered, beginning with ‘God’ in 2015. Check out the writing from this dude. I’m gonna say that I would have mentioned in any of those posts that the specific album is one of my favourite solo Beatles albums, if not the favourite. Lennon was going through primal therapy and used it, alongside other traumas, to make some powerful music with good mates Ringo Starr (on drums, obviously) and Klaus Voorman on bass guitar. October 2010 marked the month of what would’ve been Lennon’s 70th birthday, and I think I must have downloaded the album sometime during those four weeks. I’d have to check the old computer to be certain. I was a relatively new Beatles fanatic at that point, and Plastic Ono Band was an instant hit for me. As was ‘Remember’, the sixth song on the album, even if it may be one of the least popular on there. At least that’s what I gather from the Spotify numbers.

I remember (couldn’t avoid it, sorry) being confused by the song’s rhythm for the longest time. Those moments where Lennon goes a half-step down on the piano when he’s stomping away at it during the verses – at least I think it’s a half-step – would throw me off when I would count along to it. It led me to believe that there were bars of 11/4 or 15/4 during those sections. Big tip, there isn’t. It’s all in 4/4. There is a bit of polyrhythm going on in the song’s intro though. Lennon and Voorman play their respective instruments in 3/4 while Ringo’s pounding away in standard time. Then when Lennon starts singing 13 seconds in, Starr does a little correction so that the beat doesn’t end up inverting during the verses. It’s a little moment like that where you gotta appreciate the dude. Also, if you read the song’s Wikipedia article, it states that the track was developed by an unplanned improvised coda that occurred during the recording of the Beatles’ ‘Something’ from Abbey Road. If you never believed it, it’s true. Lennon breaks out into the riff on the piano and the rest of the band join in with him. I even remember that take being on YouTube once upon a time and it being much longer too. But hey, gotta make with what you have.

In terms of the lyrics, ‘Remember’ sees Lennon thinking back on his childhood… Well, he’s telling us to look back on our childhoods, but there’s some self-reflection there too, and think about how things seemed to be so black-and-white during those days. The good guys won, the bad people lost because that’s how it was always shown on TV. How people would be always be so much taller and you couldn’t do anything to them because you were just a kid and pretty much insignificant. Mums and dads were wishing for better lives but maybe not following through on to actually achieve them. That last point is probably more aimed towards himself, seeing as his dad left him and his mother was killed and all. But with all that being said, he’s telling us to remember today, the present, the here and now, because all that matters, and to not have any regrets for how things have gone in so far in your life. So it’s a mirror of emotions going on here, mirrored by the change from a minor key (in the verses) to a major one (for the choruses). I’ve always appreciated the ‘Fifth of November’ nursery rhyme reference right at the end too. The first time I heard the song and Lennon sang ‘Remember’ twice, I was wondering if that’s where he was gonna go. And he did. That capped it off for me.

#984: John Lennon – One Day (At a Time)

Just a note to take into account before you read this. This track isn’t actually six minutes and 36 seconds long. There are two versions of this song in it, but I’m really only talking about the first 3 minutes in there or so. If you want to carry on listening after, that’s up to you. Cool. That’s out of the way.

When I was really getting into the Beatles at the beginning of the tail-end of the 00s, I came across this project online called Everyday Chemistry. The website where you could download it provided the backstory. This was an album created in a parallel universe where the Beatles never broke up in 1970 that somehow made its way to our planet. Quite the way to get people interested. Really, it’s just a mashup album created by a fan using solo Beatles work. In the vein of the official Beatles LOVE record. And it wasn’t actually bad. In fact, it was this project that got me thinking about listening to the Beatles solo projects and songs. One track on there that struck my ear immediately was ‘Anybody Else’, which was a mashup of McCartney’s track ‘Somedays’, Ringo Starr’s ‘Monkey See – Monkey Do’, and an alternate take of John Lennon’s ‘One Day (At a Time)’ taken from the 1998 Anthology compilation. The latter was the anchor of this song, providing the bassline and what is essentially the main riff. So it only made sense to seek out the original and see what was going on.

‘One Day (At a Time)’ was written and recorded during a period when John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s marriage was on the rocks, just before they properly separated and Lennon went on an 18-month bender in Los Angeles. I feel the track is meant to act as something of a statement from Lennon to Ono as to why they should stay together. With he being the fish to her sea, the bee to her honey and so on and so forth, he feels they’re two people who complete each other. Any trouble arises then taking things day by day should be the way to right any wrongs. As mentioned before, that route didn’t work out. But man, this track makes for some truly comfortable listening. Probably the coziest recording Lennon ever made. This is bare bones, made up of Lennon’s cool vocal, a keyboard, bass guitar and drums played with brushes rather than sticks, and a twinkling guitar that provides a backdrop during the verses. It’s like the the musicians are playing right in front of you in this dark lounge, smoke in the room, people wearing shades. It’s magic stuff. So relaxing, so warm. You listen to those first three minutes up there. You’d think that take could have been on an official album, right?

Well, wrong. With some advice on Ono’s part to sing the vocal in a falsetto range, and the addition of backing vocalists and maybe a steel pedal guitar, the track was released in its ‘final form’ on Lennon’s Mind Games album in 1973. I don’t like this version as much. Not a lot, to be honest. With the alternate Anthology take, Lennon singing in his natural range provided so much more sincerity, in my opinion. The decision to go falsetto on the album doesn’t sit right with me. I guess by doing so he’s meant to sound like some innocent child or something. Maybe meant so sound more vulnerable? I don’t know. To me it comes off as if he’s making fun of the entire thing. Considering it was Ono’s idea, he probably didn’t want to do it that way. Think the backing singers and the added instrumentation is a bit extra too. But hey, that’s just me. I’ll stick to the Anthology. Listen to the album version for yourself and decide.

#941: John Lennon – Nobody Told Me

Yeah, it’s another John Lennon song. I’m sorry if that bothers you, I don’t know why it would, but there’s no song I have beginning with ‘Nobody’ that came between this and the last one. This track has much less of a “woe is me” energy to it than ‘Nobody Loves You’, but possesses more of a “What the hell is going on around here?” tone. It’s a sentiment that Lennon felt being out of the music business, devoting his time as a father to his newborn son and seeing things on the news and in the street that freaked him out.

‘Nobody Told Me’ was one of the many tracks Lennon laid down to tape, having decided to get back into the music business after a five-year retirement that began in 1975, a year which coincided with the birth of his second son Sean. Yoko Ono stated that she thought that Lennon felt the world has “lost its direction”, but was also starting to realise that life in general was always going to move in mysterious ways. The lyrics list these situations and play-on-words that depict a sense of stasis and passivity. And for a guy who was a face of the peace movement a decade earlier, the lack of people taking a stand against injustice, or just anything to stand for in general, might just have weirded him out a bit.

The track’s carried by this great swinging rhythm, which Lennon and his 80s backing band put a fantastic weight behind. The timing is played with a little during those piano/guitar ascending/descending melody sections that occur for the pre-chorus. But it all comes crashing back into motion when the actual chorus hits in which Lennon belts out the “Nobody told me there’d be days like these” refrain amidst the rising, rolling guitar fills and swooping bass licks. Some sweet bass going on in this song by the way, played by Tony Levin. Personal highlight for me. What you may not know, is that the track was originally going to be given to Ringo Starr to sing. He and Lennon were to work together in the studio in 1981 for Starr’s upcoming album, but Lennon’s murder brought a tragic end to any plans that were to happen. I have a feeling that the song would have to be changed somewhat to fit Starr’s style. Maybe a key change to suit his voice. It probably wouldn’t have had the same effect. So although things didn’t quite turn out the way they were meant to, I quite glad we still have this.

#940: John Lennon – Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)

In 1974, an advertisement was made to promote the release of John Lennon’s forthcoming album, Walls and Bridges. His former bandmate but good friend Ringo Starr provided the voiceover, and two of Lennon’s new tracks were previewed. One being ‘Whatever Gets You thru the Night’, his first number one in the US, and today’s song, ‘Nobody Loves You (When You’re Down and Out)’. Decades later, I came across the latter through seeing the advert on YouTube, and that small clip left me wanting to hear the whole thing. So, I guess that commercial fulfilled its job.

‘Nobody Loves You’ encapsulates Lennon’s feelings and cynical takes he had garnered during his “Lost Weekend” period, a time when he was separated from Yoko Ono and spending his days drinking and getting high with his buddies in Los Angeles. He was ultimately depressed and lonely, but also let down by the critical and public reception of his then-latest music. He had given the world hope with the Beatles. He’d been at the forefront spreading the message of peace and love. He’d laid his soul bare countless times in previous albums. But the indifference in return at the time left he feeling cheated and disillusioned with the music industry. Probably why he decided to retire for a bit not so long after.

Lennon said that the track was one that Frank Sinatra could have sung. Listening to it, you can kind of see why. The tense strings and the smoky-nightclub-esque horn section provide the music this grand cinematic feel, and its crawling tempo lend a feel that the best of those iconic crooners could belt out a note to. Though funnily in a way, Lennon doesn’t go the ‘My Way’ route and instead sings the lyrics in a hushed and rather casual manner. The restraint makes it all the more harder when, after a sweet slide-guitar solo, the music rises with tempo and urgency and Lennon lets everything out on the “Well, I get up in the morning” section. That doesn’t last too long though. The music returns to that of the verses, and after the now quite chilling line “Everybody loves you when you’re six foot in the ground”, Lennon sends us off with some happy-go-lucky whistling. To think, had he not come back with a new record in 1980, this could have been his last original song on an album. It’s not a song to feel happy to when you’re listening, but it’s certainly relatable. Not in the way that we could see it from Lennon’s point of view as an almighty mega-rich superstar. But it ultimately distils a sense of loneliness and cynicism that all of us feel from time to time.

#864: John Lennon – Mother

John Lennon – a complicated individual, I think it can be said. I’m not in the huge wave of people who declare him a monster every time his name is mentioned. But he did go through some shit. His mum was killed outside of his home when he was a teenager, and his dad left the family and only returned when he became famous. Those two things pretty much set him off for life. Those events are enough to mess any kid up. But being thrown into the spotlight as a member of the biggest music group in the world, I’d have to assume he had to put those events behind him somehow. It wasn’t until the Beatles split and he had all the time in the world with Yoko Ono, that his mum and dad came to the forefront of his writing. And fair to say, at that point in time (1970), John was a bit pissed off with everything.

A common thread on John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band is Lennon’s feelings of being let down by the people he once looked up to when he was younger. And that album begins with the subjects from which most of his pain stemmed from: his parents. ‘Mother’ starts it all off with an ominous funeral bell that tolls slowly. In the middle of the forth toll, Lennon’s voice erupts with a wail accompanied by Ringo Starr’s drums and Klaus Voormann’s bass guitar. The first verse concerns his mother, the second his father, and the third verse sees Lennon warn the listener to not follow in his footsteps. Maybe because he had tried to hide his hurt underneath his wit for all those years, I’m not so sure myself. And god, does he sing every word so honestly. The vocal melody’s sort of all over the place in terms of the scales and leaps from one note to the other. It’s like there’s not one syllable in a word that stays on one note. Such an engaging listen, earnest and so, so real.

Then comes the “Momma, don’t go/Daddy come home” ending, which I have to say actually frightened me a bit when I heard it the first time in 2010 or so. Sounds innocent enough when Lennon first sings that. But as the song continues, that singing gradually turns into guttural screams that properly distort the microphone he’s using. He starts to play lower down on the piano during this coda too which gives the whole track a darker tone and feel. I feel like all of this is a method to make the listener feel as uncomfortable as possible, particularly those in 1970 who still wanted some good old Beatles music. I think he succeeded with this goal. A couple months back, the album was re-released in this huge package with new mixes and demos. A raw mix of the album version that removed its fade out and the echo-effect on Lennon’s vocal’s on there, and I might even like that one better.