Love, the Beatles
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L O V E CD + Audio DVD (special edition) 3 out of 5 stars Reviewed for Coffeerooms by Mike Jefferson |
In 2003 Paul McCartney culminated his quest to rewrite Beatle history by putting his considerable weight behind the release of “Let it Be… Naked.” By removing John’s irreverent comic asides, pretending as if “Dig It” and “Maggie May” never existed, and stripping “The Long and Winding Road” of its pastoral strings, McCartney engineered an immaculate but hollow product. It was a brave, controversial mistake that sold well because there were enough starved Beatle fans who’d buy any project blessed by the surviving members of the Fan Four. Fans listened to the sanitized “Let it Be…Naked” once, satiated their empty Beatle souls, and then went back to listening to the original version.
Sir George Martin and his son Giles have gone even further out on the limb of credibility with “Love,” the soundtrack to the successful Cirque du Soleil stage production in Las Vegas. The idea of touching, let alone “mashing” the Beatles compositions in order to create soundscapes is as close to sacrilege as it gets in music, so the perpetrator mucking about with perfection had better know what he’s doing. Producer George Martin, (the real fifth Beatle) seems like the ideal man for the job. He was instrumental in making the Beatles the most successful recording group of all time. He nurtured their sound, encouraged them to experiment, and served as their studio referee. Martin’s genuine love for the Beatles and his respect for their music gives “Love” a fighting chance. By remixing Beatle anthems, using unheard material and interjecting cuts from other songs, the Martin’s have created a Beatle’s album for the 21st century – experimental, hip, and innovative. It doesn’t always work, but it’s interesting.
A four song preview was sent out in advance of the album. John, Paul, George and Ringo all get a turn at the mike on the sampler, which is astute marketing. Sending out only four songs as a preview however, even if it is the Beatles, isn’t smart marketing. You’re forced to use your intuition as to whether the other 16 cuts on “Love” will work. Will Harrison’s exquisite ballad “Here Comes the Sun” still maintain its identity when it’s coupled with the transcendental imagery emanating from “The Inner Light?” Could be enlightening. Will the psychedelic mysticism of “Within You, Without You” blend with the mind-blowing “Tomorrow Never Knows?” Sounds like a pleasant tune to help you relax and float downstream. How about the unsurpassed beauty of Harrison’s “Something,” teamed with the foggy “Blue Jay Way?” Can you say, “No way?” And picture Lennon’s rebellious “Come Together” with the touching “Dear Prudence” whomped together with the Elizabethan imagery of “Cry Baby Cry.” That’ll make your mother sigh. Pushing the boundaries is one thing, pushing the boundaries of good taste is another. The Martins “Love” is somewhere on the cusp, a sacrilege on paper that has the potential to work out better in practice than even staunch Beatle purists (like your truly) might think. Based on what was available in advance, the production is superb, while the performances look to be hit or miss.
The Martin’s turn the beginning of “Strawberry Fields Forever” into unadorned folk by removing the mellotron, and utilizing a demo with a Shaman-like vocal by John Lennon. When the Beatles were recording “Revolver” in 1966 Lennon asked George Martin to make his vocal for “Tomorrow Never Knows” sound like he was the Dali Lama preaching from a mountain top Sir George succeeded then and is triumphant again here, echoing the head Beatle’s vocal until he sounds very cosmic indeed. The field gets a little crowded midway through when the Martin’s begin splicing in shards of other songs against the marching band cadence of Ringo’s drumming…In comes the guitar from “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” the coronet solo from “Penny Lane,” the keyboard from “In My Life,” the harpsichord solo from “Piggies” the “hey la-hey-hello” sing-along from “Hello, Goodbye.” All of the songs blend in with Strawberry Field’s bed of music as if they were meant to be together, a tribute to the Martin’s skills, but it makes for a very cluttered ending to a legendary performance, and you’ll find yourself guessing which famous Beatle snippet is being pressed into service rather than listening to the actual song. If the Board of Education tested kids hearing in school with the last minute of this mash up, there’d be a lot of schizophrenic deaf kids around who didn’t like the Beatles. Overall, the “mash up” effect backfires, turning an anthem into a novelty song.
The full orchestra employed for Ringo’s “Goodnight” is grafted onto the beginning of “Octopuses Garden,” negating much of the song’s playfulness. After a somber, slow motion beginning, the song shifts back to it’s original arrangement, but there’s enough additional tinkering here to let you know you’re listening to a new version – such as the backward muttering during the chorus and a new exit – and instead of Harrison’s perky guitar coda you get part of “The Sun King.” The big improvement is the crispness of the production. Ringo’s drum rolls are so brisk they sound as if they were recorded yesterday. Even in the infancy of the CD revolution, Beatle CDs were always among the best in sound quality, but the sound on “Octopuses Garden” and the other tracks will make you hope that the long-rumored remastering of the Fab Four’s catalogue comes to fruition.
Paul’s spotlight performance, “Lady Madonna,” gets the full slice and dice treatment. Instead of Paul’s instantly recognizable pounding on the piano as the opener, the smash up (sorry, mash up), begins with a slapping percussion loop lifted from “Why Don’t We Do It In the Road,” which then slides seamlessly into “Lady Madonna”’s vaudevillian “Ra ba ba ba” background vocals. The sax solo, transplanted from the middle of the song to the beginning honks in, and “Hey Bulldog” lifts its leg for a few bars. On the plus side, the horns in “Lady Madonna” are so clear you can practically see the spittle flying, and with Ringo’s drumming pulled forward in the mix, you’ll get to hear why his fellow musicians revere his subtle technique. Still, the original rules. The new version is like a zirconium ring. It’s a beautiful imitation, but it’s still an imitation.
The song that gives the project validity is George Harrison’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.” Constructed around a Harrison’s hushed acoustic demo, the new version is bathed in swelling strings. Another bonus: the orchestrated version of “Guitar” adds in the verse that Donovan reportedly helped Harrison write that was exorcised from the final product: “I look from the wings, at the play you are staging, still my guitar gently weeps. As I’m sitting here, doing nothing but aging, still my guitar gently weeps.” (Okay it’s not his best lyric, but it adds a welcome new twist.) It helps that Harrison gives an emotional reading, which works well against the orchestra, completely altering the song. This is what the Martin’s should have done throughout “Love.” If you’re going to mess with the integrity of a classic song, don’t just throw in a parlor few tricks (even if they are clever), go the extra mile and create something new.
If this were anyone but the Beatles, I might not complain that the process of “mashing up” the songs of rock gods is like painting a moustache on the Mona Lisa or putting Warren G. Harding’s gigolo profile on Mt. Rushmore. Since it is the Beatles, the quality of the material and the clarity of the remixes warrant three stars. I guess the most important question that needs to be asked is “Is Love really necessary?” No, of course not. This is the Beatles you’re playing with, not Daddy Dewdrop or the Bay City Rollers. You can’t improve it. At best, if you don’t ruin the Beatles’ material then you’ve won a minor victory, and that’s what the Martin’s have done. (Sorry, still ranting). Nevertheless, the Martin’s studio magic is worthy of the best tricks pulled by Houdini or Kreskin. I’ll probably buy “Love,” listen to it once, marvel at the production, then consign it a spot in the seldom heard section of my CD collection...right next to “Let it Be…Naked”.
P.S. One million Beatle fans can’t be wrong. The week it was released, “Love” became the #1 selling CD in the nation.
Posted November 28, 2006 Permalink
