[AS PUBLISHED IN MALAY MAIL]
Getting better with a little help
By Jordan Barnes
IT was 50 years ago today Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band came into play, with four of the most accomplished musicians at the helm.
They were The Beatles of 1967, eager to distance themselves from their image as Liverpool's mop-top boy-meets-girl hitmakers and progress into a quartet of authentic artistic nous.
Their plan?
It came from Paul McCartney; play a fictional show for a fictional audience on a record that sounded like it was performed live.
John Lennon hated the idea.
McCartney thought of it on a flight from Kenya to London, toying with words and names for the unorthodox approach that would carry through onto the album.
Playing with salt and pepper packets, he uttered "Sergeant Pepper" in a stroke of aural fortune.
The rest of the album's name similarly came from left field on the premise "why would a lonely hearts club have a band?" McCartney mused.
Thus the concept was born, and the title track's chorus introduces the band playing to audience applause in between blasts of brass.
"We hope you will enjoy the show," they sang.
Ironically, the group had
given up on live appearances the year before, unable to take the eternal screaming wherever they set foot nor able hear a note of music onstage.
The abrupt call to end concerts tarnished their cheery reputation.
They had already lost their charm in the United States after Lennon claimed the group was bigger than Jesus Christ.
"There was no question of disbanding. It was just about us wanting to 'get off this road," said Ringo Starr.
The lack of output after Revolver in 1966 made them even more unpopular.
The silence of The Beatles was deafening.
"Has-beens" and "past their best" were the worst critical anticipations of their new album.
But with producer George Martin, only the Fab Four had any real clue, recording-wise, The Beatles were about to peak.
Some 700 hours later, they emerged from Abbey Road's EMI Studios with Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in all its iridescent grandeur, a treasured heirloom in the annals of rock music.
Its influence has gone unmatched since, although the seminal work should be regarded as seminal sessions.
Strawberry Fields Forever and Penny Lane were the first recorded, only to be released as a double A-side single instead of appearing on the album, a practice commonplace at the time.
With its colourful elixir synonymous with a proliferating psychedelic genre, the iconic album sleeve littered with famous figures, added to the appeal of 13 songs in carnivalesque splendour.
Liberated from the shackles of Beatlemania, the quartet blew open the gates of instrumental experimentation - flutes, organs, harpsichord and a Mellotron keyboard; unheard of in rock music.
Lennon contributed to the fairground feel paraded on some of the numbers with the lyrics to For the Benefit of Mr Kite, pinched from a 1843 poster circus bill he acquired from a nearby antique store.
The distorted guitar riffs and daring overdubbing techniques are just half of the spellbinding brilliance.
Originality was key.
George Harrison's Within You Without You is an experience in itself, arguably his greatest Beatles
triumph, built with stirring sitar and an intense, Asian-infused melody courtesy of Ravi Shankar's teachings from a trip to India.
With a Little Help from My Friends, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and A Day in the Life stand as the record's definitive trio which revealed the magnificent extent of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting partnership.
The delicate, feel-good five-note tune McCartney wrote for With a Little Help was aptly passed to Starr to sing.
Lucy in the Sky, a genius Lennon concoction, was inspired by his son Julian with a painting of the song's description, added with a tab of LSD he mistook for aspirin.
To close, A Day in the Life, with spine-tingling Lennon vocals, topped with newspaper clipping imagery shrouded in mystique and a climactic, 40-strong orchestra roaring from low to high gave a finish impossible to follow.
Its verses were written as separate songs then paired together by Lennon and McCartney.
They could simply do no wrong.
Consider also McCartney's Sinatraesque When I'm Sixty Four, added for good measure, or "sitting on the sofa" with Lovely Rita, a song which showed the band weren't too quick to dispel their roots.
Perhaps the best indication of the record's cultural impact is nestled on the perky jingle of Good Morning Good Morning, however.
On the surface it's nothing special.
In fact, it begs the question of how a song Lennon wrote after hearing a Kellogg's breakfast advert found its way onto a commercial pop record.
Yet its success, even with lines as mundane as "nothing to do," "nothing to say," creatively opened doors to another dimension.
Suddenly it became okay to record what some might call nonsense and others regard as wit. The thinking was untried.
It worked.
And since, never has a pop group shied away from venturing into the unknown.
Everyone doubted Sgt. Pepper's and The Beatles, who proved they were not only a relevant force but at the forefront of music innovation.
Released on June 1, 1967, the album, as track four preluded, is "getting better all the time."
Did you know?
Getting better with a little help
By Jordan Barnes
IT was 50 years ago today Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band came into play, with four of the most accomplished musicians at the helm.
They were The Beatles of 1967, eager to distance themselves from their image as Liverpool's mop-top boy-meets-girl hitmakers and progress into a quartet of authentic artistic nous.
Their plan?
It came from Paul McCartney; play a fictional show for a fictional audience on a record that sounded like it was performed live.
John Lennon hated the idea.
McCartney thought of it on a flight from Kenya to London, toying with words and names for the unorthodox approach that would carry through onto the album.
Playing with salt and pepper packets, he uttered "Sergeant Pepper" in a stroke of aural fortune.
The rest of the album's name similarly came from left field on the premise "why would a lonely hearts club have a band?" McCartney mused.
Thus the concept was born, and the title track's chorus introduces the band playing to audience applause in between blasts of brass.
"We hope you will enjoy the show," they sang.
Ironically, the group had
given up on live appearances the year before, unable to take the eternal screaming wherever they set foot nor able hear a note of music onstage.
The abrupt call to end concerts tarnished their cheery reputation.
They had already lost their charm in the United States after Lennon claimed the group was bigger than Jesus Christ.
"There was no question of disbanding. It was just about us wanting to 'get off this road," said Ringo Starr.
The lack of output after Revolver in 1966 made them even more unpopular.
The silence of The Beatles was deafening.
"Has-beens" and "past their best" were the worst critical anticipations of their new album.
But with producer George Martin, only the Fab Four had any real clue, recording-wise, The Beatles were about to peak.
Some 700 hours later, they emerged from Abbey Road's EMI Studios with Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in all its iridescent grandeur, a treasured heirloom in the annals of rock music.
Its influence has gone unmatched since, although the seminal work should be regarded as seminal sessions.
Strawberry Fields Forever and Penny Lane were the first recorded, only to be released as a double A-side single instead of appearing on the album, a practice commonplace at the time.
With its colourful elixir synonymous with a proliferating psychedelic genre, the iconic album sleeve littered with famous figures, added to the appeal of 13 songs in carnivalesque splendour.
Liberated from the shackles of Beatlemania, the quartet blew open the gates of instrumental experimentation - flutes, organs, harpsichord and a Mellotron keyboard; unheard of in rock music.
Lennon contributed to the fairground feel paraded on some of the numbers with the lyrics to For the Benefit of Mr Kite, pinched from a 1843 poster circus bill he acquired from a nearby antique store.
The distorted guitar riffs and daring overdubbing techniques are just half of the spellbinding brilliance.
Originality was key.
George Harrison's Within You Without You is an experience in itself, arguably his greatest Beatles
triumph, built with stirring sitar and an intense, Asian-infused melody courtesy of Ravi Shankar's teachings from a trip to India.
With a Little Help from My Friends, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and A Day in the Life stand as the record's definitive trio which revealed the magnificent extent of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting partnership.
The delicate, feel-good five-note tune McCartney wrote for With a Little Help was aptly passed to Starr to sing.
Lucy in the Sky, a genius Lennon concoction, was inspired by his son Julian with a painting of the song's description, added with a tab of LSD he mistook for aspirin.
To close, A Day in the Life, with spine-tingling Lennon vocals, topped with newspaper clipping imagery shrouded in mystique and a climactic, 40-strong orchestra roaring from low to high gave a finish impossible to follow.
Its verses were written as separate songs then paired together by Lennon and McCartney.
They could simply do no wrong.
Consider also McCartney's Sinatraesque When I'm Sixty Four, added for good measure, or "sitting on the sofa" with Lovely Rita, a song which showed the band weren't too quick to dispel their roots.
Perhaps the best indication of the record's cultural impact is nestled on the perky jingle of Good Morning Good Morning, however.
On the surface it's nothing special.
In fact, it begs the question of how a song Lennon wrote after hearing a Kellogg's breakfast advert found its way onto a commercial pop record.
Yet its success, even with lines as mundane as "nothing to do," "nothing to say," creatively opened doors to another dimension.
Suddenly it became okay to record what some might call nonsense and others regard as wit. The thinking was untried.
It worked.
And since, never has a pop group shied away from venturing into the unknown.
Everyone doubted Sgt. Pepper's and The Beatles, who proved they were not only a relevant force but at the forefront of music innovation.
Released on June 1, 1967, the album, as track four preluded, is "getting better all the time."
Did you know?
A Day in the Life, With a Little Help from My Friends and Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds were omitted from Singapore's version of the album for perceived drug-taking implications. I Am the Walrus, The Fool on the Hill and Baby You're a Rich Man replaced them.
Comments
Post a Comment