The Beatles Remixed

THE BEATLES
Love
Capitol, 2006


Yep, you guessed it- another teacher writes a review of an album made by some old fogies; in this case, two of them are even dead!

I have to say that I didn’t want to write a review but I spent days thinking of this and that, only to quickly discount what I’d spent days thinking about, and meanwhile, the clock was ticking down and the deadline coming closer and you know what I’m like about deadlines!!!

So, what to say about The Beatles? Everyone knows them, don’t they? I remember when I was about eleven and in some record store with my parents, flicking through the vinyl albums and gazing in awe at the pictures and a world I had never seen before. I found one album with no name and no title, just four dirty and unkempt men standing in front of some weird house (the “Hey Jude” album). I asked my mum why there was no name and title and she told me it was The Beatles and they were so famous that everyone knew who they were. I didn’t know them and I thought that odd.

That was years ago, a lifetime is flashing in front of my eyes and now to members of the band are dead (John Lennon and George Harrison) and yet they’re able to put out a new(ish) record. “How’s that possible?” I hear you say. Well, take one DJ who happens to be the son of George Martin, the legendary Beatles’ producer, and with your connections, get Michael Jackson who owns the songs to release them (no mean feat- ever wonder why no-one sings a Beatles’ tune on “American Idol”? - MJ usually won’t release the songs). Now, with your skills as a DJ, mix the fade-ins and fade-outs of various songs, reverse tracks, mix in different elements of other Beatles’ songs at crucial climaxes or even remove certain instruments from the track or move them into the foreground. At times incredible new music is created such as with the mostly unrecognizable “Glass Onion”, the mix of the vocals of “Within You, Without You” with the music of “Tomorrow Never Knows”, as well as “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite” which mixes in elements of “Nowhere Man”, “Blue Jay Way”, “I Want You (She’s so Heavy)” and “Helter Skelter”.

This modern creationism is not the only highlight though, as the impact on the listener of various songs is subtly altered and enhanced. For instance, the relaxed beat contained in the mellow introduction to “Here Comes the Sun” tranquilly ushers you into the beachside world of the song before the familiar bombastic music takes you over and we’re back in the world that we know so well. I also found the different introduction to “Octopus’s Garden” particularly effective in that it appeared to appropriately slow the tune down thus emphasizing its nursery rhyme form.

Some of it works and some of it doesn’t. I found the jazzy intro to “Lady Madonna” weird to say the least and some of the cuts are awkward and clunky as well as repetitive (mix the end of one track with the start of another), but let’s move on to the real travesty of the CD. This is the unplugged version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. With this track you want the guitars to weep all over you- after all, that is what the song is about- but here there is a non-electric whimper taken from the demo of “Anthology” subsumed beneath George Martin’s syrupy strings of schmaltz that are the only new instruments on the CD. “While My Guitar Gently Tinkles in the Background” would be a more appropriate song title for this abomination.

This leaves only the incredible ending to mention.

It starts with studio talk (from “Anthology”) and an alternative acoustic beginning to “A Day in the Life” that subtly and intimately allows the song’s phenomenal music to sweep its caresses all over you. This is possibly my favourite track in terms of sing-along-ability (but then there’s “Hey Jude”) and- but ‘nuff said. I’m just caught up in the moment and listening to it. Woah! A segue into “Hey Jude” (that’s two of the greatest tracks mixed together) and I’m in heaven. The “na-na-na”s thankfully appear to start earlier than the original and seem to take you away with arms outstretched for a lot longer. At three minutes most of the instruments are wiped from the track for a brief shoomy moment before a funky bass undulates its way in and slowly the rhythm builds and swells, sweeping you along and tears well up in your eyes at the beauty and emotion of it all.

Where to go? We’ve hit the heights?

No.

Follow history and rekindle what went before and as “Hey Jude” fades, the bass sample that launched Primal Scream’s career and the whole history of Acid House begins. What follows may remind a lot of people of EMF or other big beat bands (we’re talking about The Beatles, right?) as the thumping drums of Sgt. Pepper” take control. End with “All You Need is Love” and the debt to the two summers of love is acknowledged.

History becomes contemporary. For a moment.

Check out:

Moby “Play”
Beck “Mellow Gold”, “Mutations” and “Midnite Vultures”
Primal Scream “Screamadelica”

for other cross-references.

-Richard Old

Romantic Analogies

Okay, imagine a situation where you listen to say, a song. Clarity, for example (I know it's terribly predictable of me to use a John Mayer song, but Linda Goodman does stereotype me as being predictable in an unpredictable sort of way, so I think I ought to be forgiven that cliché). So to some, in theory, that song has absolutely nothing to do with romance in the literal sense, certainly not in the positive sense, because it's about a relationship being over. To me, however, it's a really strong sentiment, because even though the relationship is over, the feeling is at the point where it's almost overwhelming, because it's real, you know.

I like to think that a good number of people fall into this category of hopeless romantics that I belong to. To people like us, there is romance in everything. And so it is in the end of a relationship. And who knows, maybe there is romance without there being any sort of relationship... or even any interaction at all. Maybe, maybe, there is romance in tea leaves, and crumpled up pieces of paper, paan stains on a wall, or even a guitar with two broken strings. I know it sounds borderline absurd, but really, who decided these things for us?

We're all victims to this, you know. Us hopeless romantics more so than others. If someone ever asked me what my idea of a perfect romantic anything would be, the picture would almost certainly involve a beach and roses. I went out with a guy once who asked me what my favourite flower was, and I said I loved roses. And he said, psh, that's so cliché. You might even say I'm contradicting myself with this whole cliché-non-cliché thing, but that was just to make a point. None of us can really escape it.

I often find myself in a moral dilemma of sorts over these romantic clichés. I mean, upfront I'm all 'women-power, we can open our own doors, thank you' but deep down (sometimes), I think I need to be taken care of by someone. Not that I can't take care of myself. See what I mean? It's all painfully confusing. And then I think maybe it's going to be like this all my life. And maybe it's so because I won't find that perfect romance or whatever, because it either won't be enough, or it'll be too much, 'Claustrophobic' you might even say. Do you see that happening? To you, I mean. Do you think you're content with one idea about anything? Because there's classic, that has always been, and there's contemporary liberal, which is quite clearly the right way to grow. And it's not just these romantic things, it's for all sorts of other situations, of course. I just find it easier to analyse in this scenario, with most of the dramas in my life owing themselves to my romantic history (or lack thereof) and everything. I mean, what's the point of living in the 21st century while still having your thinking being tied down by ancient clichés?

The mind boggles.