The Beatles’ success was based on a lot of things, one of the most critical being a stubborn refusal to act predictably. So while most bands would fall victim to the poetry of concluding their final recorded album with a song called “The End,” the Beatles were too cool for that. Enter “Her Majesty,” the shortest song in their catalog, an unlisted surprise that pops up after several seconds of silence following “The End.” Granted, it was the result of Continue reading “#191: Her Majesty”
Author: Anthony Cusumano
#192: Yer Blues
When future grunge greats Kurt Cobain and Layne Staley were just a year old, John Lennon was perfecting the art of writing depressingly straightforward lyrics about loneliness and wanting to die. I mean, this song literally starts with, “Yes I’m lonely, wanna die,” which doesn’t leave much open to interpretation. Some suggest the song was a parody of the emerging British blues scene, but Lennon says otherwise:
The funny thing about the [Maharishi’s] camp was that, although it was very beautiful and I was meditating about eight hours a day, I was writing the most miserable songs on earth. In “Yer Blues,” when I wrote, “I’m so lonely I want to die,” I’m not kidding. That’s how I felt.
As a…well, I hesitate to use the word “diehard” fan of 90s alternative rock, I definitely think it’s possible Continue reading “#192: Yer Blues”
#193: The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill
Lyrically, “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill” is so weirdly entertaining that I can’t help but love it–and it’s based on a true story, which makes it even better. Musically, it has so little to offer that it genuinely feels like the one song in the Beatles’ canon that literally anyone could have written. The chorus is essentially a children’s singalong, and John Lennon put less effort into creating smooth transitions than Steven Wright.
Inspired by a curious companion during the Beatles’ 1968 stay in Rishikesh, India, many of the details related in the song Continue reading “#193: The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill”
#194: Love You To
When people say that Revolver is the best album of all time, there’s a good chance they’re conveniently overlooking “Love You To,” George Harrison’s first full-fledged dive into exploring Indian music. (He took baby steps with a rudimentary sitar part on “Norwegian Wood” a year earlier.) The most interesting thing about “Love You To” is the realization that Continue reading “#194: Love You To”
#195: Dig It
Trimmed down to 50 seconds from a jam that lasted more than 12 minutes, “Dig It” is the perfect encapsulation of the sessions that eventually produced the Let it Be album: a rambling, “we’ll figure it out as we go” shrug set to music that ultimately finds some purpose. For “Dig It,” it’s transitioning into the glorious title track on said album. The sessions culminated in the Beatles’ famous final live performance on the Apple rooftop. But in both cases, it took a lot of Continue reading “#195: Dig It”
#196: Birthday
This is one of the earliest Beatles deep cuts I ever heard–my fourth-grade teacher played it every time a student in our class celebrated his or her birthday. I wasn’t very impressed by it then (although it was a passable three-minute diversion from actually doing work), and not much has changed in the ensuing years. It’s a rare Beatles song to emerge from a jam session, which gives it a distinct sense of urgency and an appropriate party vibe, but it’s a pretty underwhelming way to kick off the second half of The White Album.
As with a lot of songs that fall into this range on the countdown, there’s one strong element to “Birthday,” and that is Paul McCartney’s vigorous lead vocal. Beyond that, you’re stuck with Continue reading “#196: Birthday”
#197: Run for Your Life
Imagine binge-watching a great season of your favorite show and every episode is awesome, and then you get to the finale and they throw in some unexpected plot twist that isn’t enough to retroactively ruin the season, but it leaves a pretty sour taste in your mouth. That’s sort of what listening to Rubber Soul is like.
Tonight on CBS: the series finale of How I Met Your Mother and Then Killed Her Off 20 Minutes Later.*
I mean, I won’t deny that Rubber Soul‘s concluding track, “Run For Your Life,” is catchy. It is. But any song Continue reading “#197: Run for Your Life”
#198: Only a Northern Song
As much as I’ve grown to appreciate Paul McCartney’s solo and Wings work over the last few years, George Harrison will probably always be my favorite Beatle. He really started to emerge as a songwriter in the group’s later years, and his 1970 triple LP All Things Must Pass is the finest solo album by any of the Fab Four. That said, not all of his 22 Beatles compositions can be winners, and the worst is “Only a Northern Song,” a tedious excursion that takes every psychedelic cliche you can think of, tosses them into a blender, and purees them into a headache-inducing mess.
Much like my famous rum and coke and Chloraseptic cocktail.
George sounds almost as bored singing this song as the listener inevitably will be hearing it. Recorded nearly two years earlier as a Sgt. Pepper outtake, it finally popped up Continue reading “#198: Only a Northern Song”
#199: Everybody’s Trying to Be My Baby
Just like Ringo’s, George Harrison’s vocal spotlight on the Beatles for Sale album was an underwhelming Carl Perkins cover. This one at least feels slightly less lazy, and needless to say, the vocal is a lot stronger (sorry Ringo), but there’s still a sense of going through the motions. My favorite part of it is the fake-out ending, a technique I always love in songs.
The only thing I like more than fake endings? Happy Endings. Bring it back, Netflix!
And of course, this brings to a close the great Carl Perkins vs. Larry Williams war of 2016, with Larry Williams coming out on top as his “Bad Boy” is still in the running. It’s been real, Carl.
#200: Mr. Moonlight
When you start playing “Mr. Moonlight” and hear John Lennon sing the title with such gusto, it’s hard not to get excited about what’s to come. Indeed, if the entire song were as exciting as the first four seconds, this would be one of their finest covers. But man, does it go downhill fast. You can point to so many elements–the uninspired backing vocals, the inane lyrics–pretty much anything but John’s lead vocal, which gives the track some redeeming value, but it’s clear what the nadir of this recording is. Paul McCartney’s organ solo is so un-Beatle-y that if the queen heard it she would revoke his knighthood.
Actually, it’s surprising he didn’t somehow lose it in his divorce with Heather Mills.
The worst part? There was no reason whatsoever for “Mr. Moonlight” to take up space on Beatles for Sale. Ringo and George both had their vocal spotlights, weak as they were. And on the very same day the band first tackled “Mr. Moonlight,” they also recorded the fiery “Leave My Kitten Alone,” which inexplicably languished in the vaults for more than 30 years despite being superior to not only “Mr. Moonlight,” but probably a good half of the rest of Beatles for Sale too.
Anthony Cusumano 