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(Capitol, 1988)The Imagine film was one of the earliest image-control projects from the Lennon Estate, and Yoko and co. cannily (but boringly) go the double A-side route with the release of an American “Jealous Guy” single lifted from the soundtrack. Whereas the Europeans had stuck the semi-headscratcher “Going Down on Love” on the B back in the early ’80s, the US gets the far more famous “Give Peace a Chance” for a full-on warm ’n’ fuzzy mini hits package. Hooray and all that, but there could hardly be a less interesting record twenty-plus years after the fact. Any person dumb enough to seek the thing out owns both songs many times over, and there isn’t anything in the artwork or packaging to make it desirable from even a collector-dummy perspective. Owning this does not reflect well on me.
(Capitol, 1957)Now, I’m a fun-lovin’ youngster who busts the occasional gut over novelty records both old and new, but this Stan Freberg disc, which exists musically/conceptually somewhere between Weird Al and Culturcide, just does not in any way DO it for me. The targets of Stan’s skull-smashing wit here are those twin, satire-demanding, late-50s devils that were, yep, you GUESSED it… beatniks and TV. So yeah. If a start-stop version of “Banana Boat” featuring a too-chilled bongo player, and a mildly-offensive calypso accent-abuse ditty about the brainlessness of the telly (“Tele-Vee-Shun”) don’t sound quite like your cup of piss, take my word for it that they AREN’T. And I admit that I’m probably being unfair, since 50 years have passed and, sure, maybe this shit was timely as the second-hand back in’57, but heck… that’s neither my fault nor my problem, world of grampses. Look, you: I’ll take my yuks – all several of them – elsewhere.
(Apple/Capitol, 1996)The second reunion single, and this one feels a lot less organic than “Free as a Bird,” possibly because it doesn’t have the benefit of those gut-punch Paul- and George-sung bridges. The vocals are, in fact, an issue throughout. John’s ghostly warbling doesn’t work as well here as it does on “FaaB” as he’s completely overwhelmed by the other Beatles’ rich instrumental overdubs. But in fairness, those overdubs are quite nifty, especially George’s guitar solo and Ringo’s well-placed cymbal crashes in the chorus. “Real Love” is not a bad song by any stretch, and is actually rather catchy (especially that chorus!), but it’s definitely mid-tier Lennon at best, limp adult-pap at worst. The B-side? Pointless live version of “Baby’s in Black” that seems to have been included solely to show off John’s funny, sneering stage banter. The music itself is pure snoozer.
I’ll add that the band didn’t help the A-side’s cause from the get-go by premiering it via a LOUSY video 24 hours after the unleashing of the awesome “Free as a Bird” vid, making it feel like the afterthought it was eventually considered. The airing of the “Bird” clip, by the way, beats out the 2004 ALCS as the most exciting television experience of my life… that countdown on ABC – “ABeatleC” har har – while the credits rolled on the first installment of the Anthology special back in ’95? MAN! I remember exactly where I was sitting in the room at the time, and I think I even shed a secret tear or two. SHADDUP.
(Apple/Capitol, 1995)
“Free as a Bird” straight-up rules hard, but a lotta jerkasses want to give this one the old pooh-pooh. Why?! What did you want from a Beatles reunion in 1995? What did you expect?? Rapping? Hott beatz? This is loose, natural, and SOUNDS like the Beatles, and that’s absolutely the best possible outcome (imagine the bitching that would’ve occurred if they’d done something completely outta left-field!). Grave-dwelling John’s in introspective, melodic mode; George puts down some awesome, Georgely slide guitar; Ringo has that crisp, tasteful drum sound that he rocked in the olden days; and while Paul doesn’t get too crazy on the bass, his vocals and new lyrics fit in perfectly. Heck, they even pulled Geoff Fuggin’ Emerick out of mothballs to engineer the thing! Don’t forget that the fellas didn’t sit down, stroke their chins, and try to write a hot-shit “Beatley” song from scratch; they were bound to a minor, late-70s – LATE-70s! – Lennon piano demo and dudes STILL managed to make it sound like a real group effort that coulda come from ANY decade, just like the best Beatle stuff does. Blends into the catalog quite nicely. And for cryin’ out loud, all the tons of idiotic non-musical baggage aside, this is simply a satisfying effort as a SONG: it’s a moody, engaging piece of music with some lovely – occasionally soaring – playing and singing. So lay off! Even the B-side’s a winner, as we finally get an uninterrupted version of the band’s 1967 psychedelic holiday jam, “Christmas Time (is Here Again).” If one can drop the ridiculous and unreasonable expectations, there’s just nothing to dislike about this 45. A real crowd pleaser, end to end.
And wait! What’s with all the Lynne bashing that went (and goes) on? His ear was the right ear to have in the studio for the two reunion tracks. Guy’s a stone-cold miracle worker and always has a good haircut. So impressed and inspired was I by his efforts, I worked on a screenplay about Jeff Lynne (Jeff Lynne: The Movie) for a while in high school. The only detail I remember is that he hurled Ringo through an upper-story window at one point.
(Apple/Capitol 1995)Hello 1990s and hello at last to previously unreleased material. The title track has been pulled from the Live at the BBC album, and the other three are exclusive to this particular hunk of wax. Unfortunately, it’s hard to get all that jazzed about the Beatles’ slew of reverent early-period covers – except maybe “Please Mister Postman” – and this EP, all of which was recorded live in 1963 and 1964, is cram-jammed with three of ’em: “Baby it’s You,” “Devil in Her Heart,” and “Boys.” Acoustic ditty “I’ll Follow the Sun” is the lone original on here, and Paul plays it straight; it’s basically a rougher-sounding version of what’s on Beatles For Sale. Which is the problem on all of these songs…they’re too close to the studio versions to be of any real value or interest. EXCEPT – and this is crazy – “Boys,” on Please Please Me a worthless dud of a Ringo showcase, but here a crackling, exciting track with raw vox (both lead and backing) that propel it into ever more rockin’ territory. Yikes! Should’ve been the A-side, and that’s no joke. You know, there’s some food for thought in the fact that every Beatleboy gets a lead vocal on this record; cute, sure, but did Apple politics cause the compilers to leave off better material?
P.S.: Take a gander at the cover photo and notice the lousy retouch the art department attempted. You can see Ringo’s blurry head (from the album cover shot) over the right shoulder of the superimposed, dancing Ringo! Whoops.
(Capitol, 1982)Even in the grim period of late-’70s/early-’80s reissue singles, this is an embarrassing low. Capitol strings together seven excerpts from the soundtracks of the Beatles’ movies and comes up with a crude medley to accompany its barrel-scraping Reel Music album (Why did the label think anyone needed a theme compilation like Reel Music in 1982?? After many sleepless nights, the only theory I can come up with is that this was around the time the group’s films were being released on home video, and the LP served as an easy tie-in…?). Don’t have time to listen to your favorite hits like “Magical Mystery Tour,” “All You Need is Love,” “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away,” “I Should Have Known Better,” “A Hard Day’s Night,” “Ticket to Ride,” and “Get Back” in their entirety? Then this steaming pile is just the disc for you! Yes, you’re gonna love hearing snippets of those songs crammed into a 3:56 abortion that features choppy edits, little logic in its excerpt-to-excerpt flow, and, best of all, a comically sped-up “Ticket to Ride.” If the cretins at Capitol wanted to pull a “Stars on 45” and make this record a little interesting, they should have at least had the decency to go all the way and toss a handclappy disco beat under the whole thing. But no. Incompetence abounds in medleytown!
(Capitol, 1976)The first “new” Beatles single since “The Long and Winding Road,” and it’s an ugly-sleeved laff. Why it exists: Capitol released Paul’s punchy ode to the dreaded P-O-T (that’s what PMcC sez it’s about, anyway) to promote its braindead Rock ’N’ Roll Music compilation, see. Can’t say that this horn-driven slice of whiteboy soul is the rockinest or rollinest choice they coulda made for single – or even that it shoulda been included on said comp in the first place – but it made the top ten, so what do I know? In a Beatle first, McCartney dominates both sides of the disc, his ’68 sledgehammer “Helter Skelter” on the B. An r’n’r themed 45, and it’s AllPaul! Which is quite amusing, cuz Paulie was at this very time wussing out horribly with the flufftastic Wings at the Speed of Sound. The universe has a sense of humor! Or at least someone at Capitol does/did.Know what else is weird? CBS ran a high-profile TV movie about the Manson killings called Helter Skelter in April of 1976, and then Capitol released “Helter Skelter” on a single in May of 1976. Funny how that worked out. Classy, too.
(Capitol, 1967)QUIT PHONING IT IN, PAUL! I have a longstanding rep to uphold as America’s top McCartney bootlicker, but dude’s making it hard when he tosses off shit like “Hello Goodbye,” and in so doing proves every hack naysayer right about his money-grabbing vapidity. Argh! It’s certainly not a terrible song; there’s some rather nice drumming (note the pattern thus far: Ringo’s always good), slide guitar, and backing vox, and it’s obviously CATCHY...the problem here is largely the lyrics: it’s just the most braindead of oompah-oompahs, with the sickly-sweetest Paul-vocal in the canon. Gross treacle. But a funny video! The Beatles’ knowledge of their own fast-blooming legacy by this point made for some of the earliest hyper-self-aware rock, but other than the undeniable trace of faux-innocence here, as underscored in the vid’s gentle poke at Beatlemania-style naïvete, self-referentialism wasn’t to fully manifest itself for another album or so (“Glass Onion,” “Get Back”). Still, do not doubt that the foundation has been laid…Lennon saves the operation with “I am the Walrus,” a wonderfully overstuffed piece of psychedelic nonsense that is only topped – barely – by “Strawberry Fields Forever” when it comes to delivering pure, Beatlish lysergic delight. “Walrus,” to its credit, has a much harder edge; John spits the lyrics out, very sensitive to timing the relevant consonants to the drumbeat, and gives his voice a raspy quality that would normally be better suited to a straight-up rock performance. This is a true kitchen-sink production with the endless samples and musical asides, and it’s a shame that Lennon would never again be so ambitious from an arrangement standpoint. Lotsa great music soon to come from Paul and John, but little of it would be as freewheeling, forward-thinking, and weird as what they were attempting in ’66 and ’67. TRUTH.
(Capitol, 1967)A quaint artifact. I hope that doesn’t sound too sneering; there just isn’t another Beatles record that dates itself quite the way this musty Summer o’ Love souvenir does. Dippy we’re-all-one sentiments, a salute to “the beautiful people,” ornate production, a highly era-appropriate sleeve... it’s all here, buddy.
Still soaking everything in horns and violins in the wake of Sgt. Pepper – though there is a little guitar solo on here – the band shoots for Timeless Statement with the truly lightweight anthem-to-order “All You Need is Love.” It’s easy to roll eyes at the dimwitted “profundities” contained in the lyrics, but I will concede that if you’re trying to get a Big Message across, sure, easy-to-remember simplicity, musically and lyrically, is the smart route. Just like when Paul McCartney wrote the chart-topping classic “Freedom” in late 2001 and healed the wounds of a nation!
“Baby You’re a Rich Man,” while no masterpiece itself, is at least a whole buncha fun with its chugging rhythm, “With a Little Help From My Friends”-style Q & A lyrics, and an atypical falsetto vocal from John (who actually sings lead on both sides of this record). It also boasts one of the most ridiculous throwaway lines in Beatle history (“You keep all your money in a big brown bag inside the zoo / What a thing to do!”), but it’s silly enough to bring on a laugh every once in a while, so I’m happy to let it slide. And am I remembering correctly that the Fat Boys, of all groups, put out a “Rich Man” cover about 20 years ago? Strange.
Scared and confused by the image and title accompanying this entry? Me too! That’s the Mexican release, which includes the same music as the U.S. single, just in a far uglier sleeve; basically looks like a cheap black-and-white photocopy of the American version. This one was affordable, though, so I bought it right up.
(Capitol, 1966)Another year down the ol’ tubes. Stats? In 2007, I acquired 1,019 records at a cost of $6,399.84. Of these, 273 were new, 746 were used. Breaking down by format, 436 were CDs or CDRs, 569 were vinyl (342 LPs, 178 7”s, 46 12”s, and three 10”s), six were cassettes, and eight were mixed formats or “other.” I bought the most records in January (131), the least in June (47). I completed discographies for the Dave Clark Five, Paul Revere and the Raiders, Moose, Loop, Killdozer, Appliance, the Animals (except for the reunion albums), and the Monkees (except for Justus). I saw exactly 100 movies; only seven were repeat viewings. July and December were the months in which I watched the most films (15), May the fewest (1). The best movies were Death Race 2000, Children of Men, and Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, while the worst were Little Man and Women’s Camp 119. I read 32 books in the last year, a total of 8,773 pages. I attended 43 concerts, where I witnessed 99 sets. I was seeing 62 of those bands for the first time. My weight dipped and is consistently below 130 these days; this is not a problem, as I’m still a hearty lad who can scrap with the best of them. I also charted which pants and shirts I wore each day over the last 12 months, but that information is not easily summarized.Well. I’m glad I got that off my chest. Especially since it used up a lot of space that I would have otherwise had to fill with thoughts about two songs that are both famous enough to make me feel silly offering much commentary. On “Eleanor Rigby,” Paul’s at it again with those strings (this is Great McCartney Ballad #2), they’re all a-pluckin’ and a-sawin’ away behind him as he lays out his gloomy tale of loneliness and death. Boy, the Beatles sure did have a lot of glum songs on their singles from 1965 onward. What’s the story there? Everybody everywhere should be happy all the time. Didn’t drugs teach them that? Things are much sunnier on the other side, though, thanks to that bouncy hunk of Ringo-crooned kiddie psychedelia, “Yellow Submarine.” Like the “Paperback Writer” single, neither song here deals in the sort of vague mass-appeal “I/you” lyrics of earlier days: these are specific, imagined selves (“Paperback Writer,” “Yellow Submarine”); character sketches (“Eleanor Rigby”); or idiosyncratic – chemically-aided? – flights o’ fancy (“Rain”). It’s also worth noting that guitars are barely present on this disc. While this is very much a POP single, it’s the first Beatles 45 that can’t accurately be called a ROCK ’N’ ROLL single. Cuz it just ain’t.
(Capitol, 1966)Were you wondering which Beatle single sits alone atop the mountain of greatness? Which wears the crown of bestness and holds the scepter of #1-itude while drinking from the goblet of kick-rumpery? You are wondering those things? WELL WONDER NO MORE, BECAUSE THIS IS THE ONE!! Congratulations, “Paperback Writer” / “Rain”! The facts: The A-side is one of their hardest-rocking songs, crunching along at a brisk pace with just a few stops for breath to let the group toss out some top-notch three-part harmonies. And then the dudes go full-on psychedelic with “Rain,” its crawling vocal performance and backwards ending giving it the most delightfully druggy feel yet on a Beatles record. Paul and Ringo really outdo themselves on both songs – those burbling, melodic bass parts are right up front; crisp, full-kit drumming powers “Rain”; and the gunshot snare-hits in “Paperback Writer” are, as the kids say, the bee’s knees (provided you like bees and their joints) (Wait! “Joints”! And this a “druggy” single! I sort of made a joke right there, didn’t I! I mean, almost!).For a long time I believed that the more celebrated “Penny Lane” / “Strawberry Fields Forever” was the superior record, but now, listening to this one over and over, I admit the error of my ways; this is simply stronger all around – the writing, the singing, the playing. See, people change, people get smarter. Like how just last night I realized that I actually enjoy the Beach Boys’ 15 Big Ones album. It has at least five songs on it that I, my taste now totally in the toilet, would consider “good”: “It’s OK,” “Everyone’s In Love With You,” “Palisades Park,” “Susie Cincinnati,” and “Just Once In My Life.” We’re always growing and learning, friends, and top celebrities like me are no different, despite our millions of Euros and mustachioed good looks. This is a valuable lesson for all of us, and one truly worth remembering as the year comes to an end. So be sure to join me in 2008, when we’ll really get the comments section hopping with a detailed discussion of the political/social unrest in Pakistan following the assassination of Benazir Bhutto; a closer look at Harry Reid’s crafty use of pro forma sessions to prevent Bush from making recess appointments; and of course our continuing wall-to-wall coverage of Trent Lott’s retirement from the Senate. It’s gonna be another terrific year of politics here at I Think I Hate My 45s!
(Capitol, 1966)Another luv-lee downer of a character study – Dylan lite, perhaps – from the increasingly inward-looking John, with cowpoke Ringo twangin’ it up on the B-side’s c&w-informed throwaway “What Goes On.” There’s a Byrdsian fullness to the layered vocals and the lead guitar of “Nowhere Man,” but my favorite part of this song is a teensy touch that for whatever reason has always tickled me bigtime. At about 1:02 (OK, I cheated and checked the timing on a CD copy), there’s a single keyboard note that’s held as the solo ends and the next verse begins. I love that! And it’s not quite the same thing, but Rubber Soul has even more wonderful sustained-note keyboard biz on “The Word”; check it out! That stuff kills me! Yep, just hold down a key or two and I’ll be clapping my hands and giggling ’til bedtime comes.
(Capitol, 1965)
Hey, this is the fourth consecutive single I’ve reviewed that has the word “day” in the title, and it’s probably the best of the bunch. The Beatles continue to push the thematic boundaries of Top-40 teenyboppery with these two non-love songs; the moptop era, already showing weak vital signs on the band’s last few 45s, is definitely over with this one. Rock-side “Day Tripper” (fave of rookie guitarists the world over) is about pulling out of an unhealthy relationship, while the considerably more optimistic “We Can Work it Out” is a plea for reconciliation – though featuring a grim-faced, cautionary (“Life is very short…”) middle section. The latter song, with its harmonium and prominent tambourine, slots neatly into the mellow, rich-sounding period that the group was entering into, and is an appropriate companion to Rubber Soul, which was released at the same time as this single.
A fellow named Lee Moses recorded a supercharged instrumental soul version of “Day Tripper” that is well worth hearing; it’s on the Time and Place compilation (which also includes #1 ass-kicker “Bad Girl”), so please go spend your money immediately. In other music news, my neighbor is listening to a Kool & the Gang compilation at top volume right now. But I did stay up until 5:00am this morning blasting Trans, so fair’s fair I suppose.
(Capitol, 1965)Dig now Paul’s reputation-cementing ballad, which quickly became The Biggest Pop Standard Ever and kick-started the great/horrible 40-year career of McCartney as balladeer. As syrupy and overblown as he would often get on discs to come, give “Yesterday” credit for being sparse and tasteful; the string accompaniment takes a backseat to the warm vocal and guitar, and little touches like the spooky doubling of Paul’s voice during the first “…now I long for yesterday” are quite effective. Ringo’s twangy hoedown on the B-side – a cover of “Act Naturally” – makes for a jarring shift in tone, but, if nothing else, it does a nice job of showing off the band’s ability to pull off credible impressions of its influences (the best example being “Please Mister Postman,” which blows the original right outta the water).Here’s an observation: Seems to me that Ray Davies was taking a shot at Paul and the Beatles when he wrote these lines in “Where Have All the Good Times Gone”:Well yesterday was such an easy game for you to play
But let’s face it things are so much easier today
Guess you need some bringing down
And get your feet back on the groundThat song was recorded in October, 1965; “Yesterday” was released in August, 1965… Given the timing and the similarity between the lyrics, it’d sure be a funny coincidence if Davies didn’t have McCartney’s tune in mind when he penned his own ditty, wouldn’t it? Why you so prickly, Ray? And why am I the only person to ever point this out? Weigh in! Paul, let’s hear from you first.
(Capitol, 1965)Ha ha ha oh you krazy Beatles. First you go and misspell “Beetles,” now you get the number of days in a week messed up. Eight days?? EIGHT? There are only SEVEN days in a week, you nuts! Didn’t you guys KNOW that? I’m not sure how they do things in England, but it’s definitely always been seven over here in the U.S.A., and always will be, too. Jeez-o-man! The song itself? Oh, it’s, uh, it’s fine and everything, it actually sorta SWINGS (rather than ROCKS) and even though it’s super-duper catchy and all, it’s not an obvious jump forward for the group and is really one of the more disposable of the (late-period) Beatlemania singles. And what’s up with the fade-in on this song? Weird! Well, OK, that’s a cute gimmick, I guess; sure. But let’s admit that the acoustic “I Don’t Want to Spoil the Party” is pretty fuggin’ weak, even if it is emotionally complex and whatnot (you’re really plumbin’ the depths of male insecurity, John… wayta go!). In conclusion, whether you’re from Kirkland WA, Westminster MA, or even Calgary AB, you can surely agree that my neverending Beatles reviews are utterly worthless.
(Capitol, 1964)Without fail, pulling an all-nighter upsets my stomach, and this year’s Christmas travel made necessary a sleepless Amtrak Sunday that had my insides churning for much of the following day. So as I watched the dawn puke itself all over the New England landscape this morning from a train window, I was already considering finding a paper bag so I could follow suit. Grim hours indeed. But happily, things were looking up after I caught some accidental z’s on a cousin’s sofa later in the afternoon, nog in hand (oh that nog). In my improved mood, I am able to mull how totally my railway experience stands as a pathetic contrast to the zany choo-choo boogaloo of those fun-lovin’ Beatles in A Hard Day’s Night’s opening sequence. Which is a convenient topic of thought, because that movie’s titular single is next up in our hit parade of reviews. How ’bout that!The Beatles are completely locked in by now, operating at full power with a dense, exciting production that’s sandwiched between two unorthodox snatches of chiming guitar – the first announces the group with a powerful, ringing blast; the last fades away as the band sprints off into the distance. Ringo comes through yet again, layering cowbell and subtle, galloping hand-percussion tracks around his “hit it on the two and the four” rockbeat. On the tra-la-la front, Lennon handles the verses and McCartney the bridge, and DANG do their double-tracked voices sound perfect chasing after one another. In fact, the whole song has a chase-like quality to it, successfully conveying – aurally – the crazy pop-world rush of the film with which it shares its name. Very nice soundtrackin’ fellas, very nice soundtrackin’ indeed. On the B-side, “I Should Have Known Better” (also featured in the movie) gives us an early hint at the self-doubt John’s lyrics would investigate much more sharply on albums like Help! and Beatles For Sale. But the creeping maturity and self-awareness manage to heighten rather than dampen the fun on this single as new musical and lyrical possibilities are enthusiastically mined. You win again, Beatles!
(Capitol, 1964)WHAT YOU WANT ME TO SAY? THIS IS DEF THE MOST CRUCIAL BEATLE SINGLE CAREER-WISE, IT BEING THE FIRST ON BIG-BUDGET CAPITOL RECS AND PURTY MUCH A MAKE ’EM OR BREAK ’EM SITCH… AND IT MAKED ’EM! AND HOW!! YOU KNOW THESE FAMED SONGS, YOU KNOW THEM WELL; RIGHTLY SO, AS LENNON N MCCARTNEY MAINTAINED THE SHOCKING SPEED -- & SHOCKING CONSISTENCY! -- OF THEIR HIGH-QUALITY POPWRITE CONVEYOR BELT. WISELY, DA BRAIN-BOYZ AT HOLLYWOOD & VINE REACHED BACK AND RESCUED “I SAW HER STANDING THERE” FROM ’63, SLAPPED ’ER ON THE FLIP (UK B-SIDE WAS THE SLOWER “THIS BOY”) TO CREATE A PEPPY ONE-TWO WAX PUNCHEROO THAT MADE YOUTHFUL EARS SWOON COAST TO COAST. ALL CAPS ALL CAPS ALL CAPS IT CAUSES THE IMPORTANCE OF MY DEEPLY-THUNK WORDS TO SHINE ON THRU.
(Capitol, 1966)
Lush, multi-sectioned, theremin-laced pop oddity that actually deserves much of the BEST-SINGLE-EVER overhype heaped on it for lo these many decades (and yeah, it is embarrassing to be earnestly weighing in, in 2007, on one of the most written-about songs in history). Soaked in sunny lovin’ and joyously stoned Spectorisms as “Good Vibrations” is, the entire mood is a shift from the introspective, self-doubting Pet Sounds bum-out that immediately preceded it. The song takes the standard boy-girl bit and psychedelicizes it with the lyrics’ gooey cosmic rah-rah; it’s a series of impressions and feelings rather than a straight events-based narrative. But in nodding to the band’s innocent-pop past while playing – adventurously – to its vocal/melodic strengths, the song manages to cram in everything that was right and good about the Beach Boys up to this point and also serve as the group’s final major leap forward. Soon after this record and the subsequent shifting of the band’s internal creative/power dynamics, there was to be years of awkward stylistic wandering as the BBs tried to find a commercial comfort zone. Sure, there were plenty of interesting – and occasionally tremendous – 45s through the ’70s (“Darlin’,” “Break Away,” “This Whole World,” “Honkin’ Down the Highway”), but “Good Vibrations” is the great death scream of the Beach Boys as a truly ambitious, progressive singles band.
(Capitol, 1993)Capitol released this EP to promote its unfortunately-titled Crazy Diamond box (if you’re gonna be crass, why not go all the way? Why not Mental Illne$$?), pairing two tracks from The Madcap Laughs with two from Barrett. “Octopus” and “Baby Lemonade” are obvious choices, being better-known “hits,” but the minor songs “Terrapin” and “Effervescing Elephant” are questionable picks. The idea, however, was probably to present a sampling of the many facets of Barrett’s solo sound, and to that end this record does a fine job. The charging “Octopus” is a nonsensical, wheels-barely-on-the-road rave-up, a lively contrast to the bluesy shuffle of “Terrapin.” The songs from the second album are more fleshed-out instrumentally, and “Baby Lemonade,” with its Rick Wright organ, Gilmour bass, and great one-line chorus, is as poppy and memorable as Barrett gets. “Effervescing Elephant,” meanwhile, is childish idiocy, a not-quite-clever nursery rhyme with jaunty tuba-and-guitar accompaniment.One of the most appealing aspects of a solo Barrett song is that it almost never goes where you think it will: rhythms switch up unexpectedly, tempos move all over the place, solos fall apart, tracks suddenly peter out. Listening to the comparatively “normal” “Baby Lemonade” for the first time as a bright-eyed lad, I was shocked to hear the song doing things that it just shouldn’t be doing structurally. Twas a major ear-opening moment... crucial, even! It’s actually a little sad when one eventually becomes comfortable with this material; the initial shock of its charming weirdness is a whole lotta fun.
