|
|
|
||||||||
|
MUSIC HISTORY:
JAZZ / ROCK / BLUES / ETC.
Reviews, News, Commentaries
and Music Biographies by Randy
|
||||||||||||||
|
All written works contained herein are under the exclusive ownership of Lark Publishing, Inc. (Randy). All rights reserved. Duplication prohibited. No text may be used in whole or in part without expressed written consent of Lark Publishing, Inc.
Have a question or suggestion? CONTACT
|
||||||||||||||
|
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
|
||||||||||||||
 |
||||||||||||||
|
George Harrison, Paul McCartney, and John Lennon during the sessions for Let It Be, 1969
|
||||||||||||||
|
Review
(November 2003)
Let It Be: Take 2
Thirty-three Years After Its Original Release, The Beatles’ Troubled Album Is Re-issued, But Once Again Production Issues Abound
Let It Be…Naked is the proverbial mixed blessing. Essentially a remixed, remastered, resequenced and reprogrammed version of The Beatles’ last album, Let It Be, this new edition does reveal vastly improved versions of songs that were notoriously over-produced by Phil Spector upon the original album’s release in 1970. But all has not been rectified with this effort either, which should give substantial weight to the argument about whether to retrospectively alter the work of an artist.
When Phil Spector was given free reign to assemble an album from the Beatles’ abandoned Get Back session tapes, it too was a mixed blessing: one of pop’s great producers was finally working with a talent to match his own. Unfortunately, what was good was overlooked, and what was bad still draws rightfully heated derision to this day.
The worst offenders in terms of Spector over-production were always Lennon’s “Across The Universe,” McCartney’s “The Long and Winding Road” and “Let It Be,” and Harrison’s “I Me Mine.” These tracks are inarguably improved on Let It Be...Naked, shorn of their Spectorian excesses and left spare and simple, without the cliché-ridden string, brass, and choir arrangements Spector misguidedly employed. The renewed clarity of the piano is a real treat to hear on “Long and Winding Road”; many have criticized this song using terms like “maudlin” or “mawkish,” but (a), any sense of prettiness is usually poorly viewed in rock-critic circles, and (b), this is as sensitive and subtle a work as “Yesterday,” with more straight-forward instrumentation; McCartney allegedly wrote it with a passing stylistic-reference to Ray Charles in mind, and its simplicity is its most compelling attribute.
“Let It Be” seems to differ only slightly from the original single-mix, most notably with a dryer take on McCartney’s lead vocal, and more pronounced backing vocals by Lennon and Harrison. Why Spector chose to literally bury these vocals is a question even he can’t probably answer. The new mix results in emphasizing the song’s somber yet hopeful gospel flair – a great work made better.
Unfortunately what gets overlooked is the fact that the remainder of the album (“Two of Us,” “Dig A Pony,” For You Blue,” “I’ve Got a Feeling,” etc.) was fine; Phil Spector does after all, know more than a thing or two about record production, and he has been unfairly criticized for the album as a whole instead of a few (admittedly deplorable) tracks. His production on the remainder of the album was as good as any of the band’s previous work with George Martin (producer Glyn Johns, who was given first crack at putting the album together may very well deserve the credit for the production on those tracks as well; Spector allegedly changed little aside from some additional reverb applications, as was his approach.)
And that’s the trouble with this “new and improved” collection (aside from also being saddled with an atrocious title): the remixing of tracks that were not weighed-down with excessive production overdubs in the first place. Sure, new technology has added some additional drive and definition to the bass (rock’s premier bassist was hardly underrecorded anyway on any track after 1966), but these mixes are merely different, not necessarily better, making the alterations pointless.
Mixing is all about perspective, placing the appropriate emphasis on instruments and musical passages in relation to their proximity to each other and the listener. While including Lennon’s “Don’t Let Me Down” was a great idea, the new mix pales in comparison to the original, which was released only as the ‘B’ side to the original “Let It Be” single. Lennon’s voice is thinner and more distant (the original version had Lennon’s voice double-tracked, a frequent Beatle practice), and the apparent plan with the new mix was ostensibly to lend more of a “live” feel to the track; the recording merely sounds dryer with less depth and balance, and there’s less emphasis on Starr’s great ride-cymbal work. The original version was a great recording and a brilliant mix; simple remastering is all that was required to bring it to full fruition in the digital era. The “new” version doesn’t hold up.
For “Get Back,” “Let It Be,” and “Across the Universe,” this new release marks the third versions made available of those songs (this gets surprisingly complicated, so read carefully).
To wit:
“Get Back” was first released as a single after it was recorded in Apple Studios on January 27th, 1969; a second version also recorded in Apple Studios (the following day) was the one later released on the original Let It Be album (contrary to popular belief, this version was not a live recording taped on the roof of Apple Studios on January 30th, 1969; Phil Spector carefully crossfaded the clapping and “on-stage” banter -- including Lennon’s now famous “…I hope we passed the audition” quip -- from the rooftop performance of “Get Back,” and tagged it onto the end of the January 28th studio recording, giving the impression of a live performance when in fact, it was not.
“Let It Be” was also originally released as a single in pre-Spector form. The same take was later overdubbed and remixed by Spector, with the most distinguishing difference (aside from the excessive and clichéd orchestration) being George Harrison’s guitar solo: the original single version had Harrison’s understated guitar running through a rotating “Leslie” speaker, giving it the trademark wavering tremolo effect. Spector’s later version had Harrison’s more distorted, overdriven solo laid over the same take.
“Across The Universe” was originally issued in 1968 on a charity benefit album called Our World (it was the sole Beatle contribution on the set). Lennon was purportedly never happy with the mix, which included bird sound effects reminiscent of “Blackbird”; this version was also issued on vinyl in the U.S. in 1980 on the Beatle archive album, Rarities. Later Spector again overdubbed and remixed the track.
Why the original single versions (sans new remixing and editing) were not simply added to the album is inexplicable. The Beatles recorded, produced and approved of the original “Get Back” and “Let It Be” singles, so again only remastering was really required, as the new mixes add nothing and in some cases detract when compared to the original pre-Spector single releases.
“I’ve Got A Feeling” suffers as well; there is nothing (strictly in terms of the mix) that shows improvement over the original. In actuality the new mix comes off as sloppy: the guitar intro is mixed far too low, stray guitar notes that should have been eliminated ring out, and all sense of the original’s tasteful balance of dynamics is lost. It’s almost different enough to sound like another take; if it actually is, it’s a woeful replacement.
Certainly one can be easily accused of having a reactionary view in terms of the changes implemented on Let It Be…Naked: all the studio dialog on the original has been removed, “Maggie Mae” and “Dig It” (granted slight and off-the-cuff songs) have been deleted altogether, and the running order completely changed. But the question remains: why were all these changes deemed necessary? Certainly the deletions of “Maggie Mae” and “Dig It” were to trim off lesser, excess material, but they still contribute to the overall feel or presentation of the album.
Subscription to the view that the original Let It Be was an inherently poor album is shortsighted; it wasn’t a bad album, it had poor production decisions on four tracks. The dialog was of interest merely as it hadn’t really been heard before on Beatle recordings. It was revealing of their sense of humor and attitude, and while perhaps not vital to the final product, it was not irrelevant either. It certainly lent an element of the proverbial “fly on the wall” vibe, here replaced with an entire second disc of studio chatter (only a fraction of which includes the asides from the original album).
One would surmise the change in the running order was simply to present a completely “new” take on the album. Unfortunately, Spector had a better idea about flow and continuity than those who put together Let It Be…Naked (they did have the foresight not to split up “I’ve Got A Feeling” and “One After 909,” as the former segues right into the latter as on the original Let It Be). Aside from that bit of programming, all else is completely different – and again, not necessarily better.
And the reason for the “new spin” on this material? Marketing. Capitol is essentially delivering the follow-up to the 2000 Beatles 1 compilation, which thus far has sold twenty-five million copies. Another product that emphasizes elements of the “newly rekindled” interest in singer-songwriter oriented material (itself a crass marketing ploy) can only be a good thing (for Capitol). Besides, it only rights the wrongs that McCartney and many fans have been so vehemently displeased with all these years, right?
Well, no. Clearly the priority should have been the restoration of a maligned work. That was not the case, and it shows. Remixing violates the integrity of the original work; some of that was needed to have the material really shine. The remainder was clearly financial gain – “let’s make it appeal to the kids today; everybody’s happy and we sell more records.” This should hardly be the credo for any project with this much importance and integrity.
In the end, one comes away feeling shortchanged. By no means is Let It Be…Naked bad. It simply does not wash away all the difficulties of the original, which it could certainly have done with a little more tact and consideration (one should think long and hard before screwing around with the most influential music catalog in the history of rock ‘n’ roll). While producers Paul Hicks, Guy Massey, and Allan Rouse should get the nod of approval for re-producing (some might say “salvaging”) “The Long and Winding Road,” “Let It Be,” “I Me Mine,” and “Across The Universe,” there is marked disapproval of the unnecessary meddling with the other tracks (particularly “Don’t Let Me Down”). If only someone else involved knew when to let it be.
Copyright ©2003 Lark Publishing (Randy) . All rights reserved. Duplication prohibited.
|
||||||||||||||
|
Addendum
Getting Back: The Story Surrounding Let It Be
Business Differences, Personal Differences and
Growing Up All Contributed To The Beatles Demise
After The Beatles recorded “The White Album” in November of 1968, the band reconvened in January of 1969 to sketch out a plan of what to do next. Animosity and dissension had surfaced during the “White Album” sessions, which at one point resulted in the first Beatle -- Ringo Starr -- leaving the band in disappointment and disgust. He returned a few days later and recording resumed as usual. (In the interim, McCartney had done the drumming for the sessions for “Back In The U.S.S.R.” and “Dear Prudence.”) Both John Lennon and George Harrison had become disinterested in the band, and there was inconsistent enthusiasm for any of the returns to live performance suggested by the ever-buoyant (and occasionally pushy) Paul McCartney. Harrison wanted no part of the circus that had become live performing.
Instead, the band ended up being filmed rehearsing new material for a new studio album (to be called Get Back) in the unfamiliar Twickenham Film Studios, a cold, drafty open room (roughly the equivalent of an airplane hangar), and hardly the most welcoming place for the world’s most popular rock band to determine their next move and sort out their troubles. All of this would allegedly culminate in a live performance, the location of which was also still under much discussion.
During these sessions, Harrison too had walked out, tired of McCartney’s endless prodding and bossy direction. Having spent the better part of the end of 1968 in America, ensconced in the comparatively placid atmosphere purveyed by Bob Dylan and The Band, Harrison had returned to find the Beatles in the same throes of the discontent that had marred a portion of the “White Album” sessions; as nothing had really been dealt with, nothing had changed.
Lennon had of course met avant-garde artist Yoko Ono, and was far more interested in his blooming relationship with her than continuing in the Beatle millionaire boys-club; he had also begun to explore heroin use (which had followed an apparently in-depth review of LSD use), and had decided that it was in his best interest to hire the since confirmed disreputable businessman Allen Klein to handle his affairs (much to the chagrin of McCartney, who knew a rat when he saw one). Harrison and Starr aligned themselves with Lennon, making McCartney odd man out. Apparently without Brian Epstein (who had died of a drug overdose in 1967) to manage their affairs while they made music, the Beatle millions and the newly formed Apple Corps spiraled out of control.
Other issues also came to a head in this period. McCartney apparently purchased numerous additional shares of Northern Songs -- owners of the Lennon-McCartney song catalog -- apparently without telling Lennon. As of 1998 McCartney was still claiming (to friend and journalist Barry Miles in his book Many Years From Now) that there was nothing underhanded about it. There were more shares available, and he bought some; and so it goes and so it was. With Lennon dabbling in heroin and disregarding what anyone thought about Ono being constantly at his side (including at the studio recording sessions normally closed to all outsiders), as well as the band’s seeming inability to come to terms with its members’ diverse perspectives, there was little more to do than call it a day. In the end, the band’s lack of savvy and business cohesion lost them the publishing rights to their own songs, which were sold by Dick James to ATV amidst the band’s squabbling. This is the less-than-harmonious atmosphere in which the sessions for Let It Be took place.
After a few short weeks, the sessions at Twickenham Studios were abandoned, and the group (prompted by Harrison) moved the sessions to their own new Apple Studios on Savile Row in London. At this point, Harrison drafted Billy Preston into the sessions in an attempt to ameliorate the souring atmosphere as well as expand the instrumentation for the group’s sound. (The determination had been made to get “back to basics” and cast off elements of studio production previously employed by the group, including overdubbing.) Preston deftly added tasteful solos and flourishes on electric piano, and things improved considerably.
By the time all the tracks had been recorded, the band had become disenchanted with the entire project. Even the high point of the sessions, the impromptu live performance on the roof of Apple Studios back on January 30th, had failed to lend any enthusiasm for foraging through the tapes to assemble an album. Renowned producer Glyn Johns (who later worked with The Who on Who’s Next) was given the task; two attempts at doing this failed to meet the band’s high standards, and the album was shelved. As the winter of ’69 turned to spring, the band continued recording new material that would eventually be released as Abbey Road in September. The Beatles had washed their hands of the music recorded for the Get Back sessions.
Enter Phil Spector.
While the album itself may have been shelved, there was still the film to contend with, which required a soundtrack. Phil Spector was invited by John Lennon to sort through the tapes and assemble an album; he was given carte blanche to do as he saw fit; nobody else wanted to bother. Spector began to employ his famed wall-of-sound technique to the songs from the Get Back sessions (the credo of “some instruments should be felt if not heard” in full flight). Said Lennon: “He worked like a pig on it. He always wanted to work with the Beatles.”
Disappointingly, the end result (now retitled Let It Be) was not a Liverpudlian equivalent to “Be My Baby,” but misguided excess more in line with Mantovani than Presley. Due to the dissension within the band, McCartney claims he was never given an opportunity to accept or refuse the saccharine fruits of Spector’s labor: the album was finally issued without his approval in May of 1970. Spector claims McCartney did hear his new mixes and no word of disapproval was received; McCartney later cited Spector’s “ruining” of his compositions as a major impetus to officially leaving the band, which he announced upon release of his solo album, McCartney in April of 1970. In actuality it was Lennon who had officially and permanently left the band in September of 1969, but he had agreed to keep it from the public. As Lennon put it later: “The cartoon is this: four guys on a stage with a spotlight on them; second picture, three guys on stage breezing out of the spotlight; third picture, one guy standing there shouting, ‘I’m leaving.’”
Let It Be was released in theatres and on record to mixed reviews; none of the four Beatles attended the film’s premier. While both the film and album were engaging, they each had their problems. It was a sad end to the most innovative band in the history of popular music, and a dour start to the ‘70s.
In reality, the band that had started as teenage boys emulating their rock heroes had simply begun to grow up, with different interests -- Ringo, for instance, was also interested in having a film career in addition to his duties as a Beatle -- wives, and new singular perspectives on music and the future that no longer included life as a Beatle as a requirement. What really broke up the band was inevitability. All things must pass.
Copyright ©2003 Lark Publishing (Randy) . All rights reserved. Duplication prohibited.
_________________________________________________
|
||||||||||||||
| page created with Easy Designer |