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(Geffen, 1981)Just in time for the American hardcore explosion, Geffen fires a doubled-sided NUTTIN BUT HITS 7” – “(Just Like) Starting Over” b/w “Woman”!! – up the ass of a nation that will never and CAN NEVER be the same after the dropping of this INSANE VINYL. These two fuckers were straight BANGERS in Lennon’s life, and things haven’t changed since death came creeping. Yeh, “Starting Over” still makes me feel like I should check on ye olde rockin’ prostate, and “Woman” calls to mind drunken fetal-position sobbing for/about mummy: Talk about maxxing out the Intensity Card after driving your Wildguy Minivan down to the Grocery Store of Madness! Has there ever been a back-2-back KRAZIER party offered by the major-label budget bin? I think I heard a 10cc 45 once that came close, but buddy the answer’s nope!
(Geffen, 1981)HEY! I’m off to see Yoko Ono play at BAM tonight! She’ll be appearing with a star-studded cast of thousands, including Sean Lennon, Cornelius, Klaus Voorman, Jim Keltner, and some of the Sonic Youth-ers! I’m keeping my gentle fingers crossed, though, that she doesn’t perform “Watching the Wheels” B-side “Yes, I’m Your Angel,” which engages in atypical-for-Ono cutesiness and thus sinks under its jaunty old-timey Disneyisms – the McCartneys would’ve been slaughtered for releasing novelty lamb-poop like this.Poop? Butt. Butt? BUT! Forget the lousiness of the B, for the best of the Double Fantasy A-sides is to be had here, with Lennon’s breezy defense of his “lazy” lifestyle resulting in one of the strongest singles he ever wrote/writ/wrut. Piano, instantly-memorable vocal melody, totally effortless poppiness: This is the one. Along with “Nobody Told Me,” “Watching the Wheels” is the cream of the comeback crop.
(Geffen, 1981)Yeesh. Is there a sappier song than “Woman” in John Lennon’s catalog? I seriously doubt it. From the ultra adult-contemporary lighter-waving sound, to the “I loooooove yoooooou… well well” chorus, to the mommy-issue patheticisms of the lyrics, the track is a kernel of sweet sentiment wrapped in gooey layers of cotton-candy radio-cliché. Perhaps some chump asshole is RIGHT NOW dancing with his mother to this at a wedding? Bet on it.Ono’s contribution to the single is, again, more interesting. “Beautiful Boys” is an eerie, slightly psychedelic mood piece about John and Sean Lennon that encourages the embrace of fear/danger/etc. It’s an unsettling analogue to John’s comfort-blanket lyrics in his own “Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)” on the same album.
(Geffen, 1980)Five years later, the comeback single. For better or worse – musically speaking, that is – Lennon’s a bit of a happy sappy pappy at this point, and he hammers that home by opening “(Just Like) Starting Over” with a gentle windchime reworking of the ominous bell-tolls that announced “Mother.” The song is perky, 1950s-informed luv-fluff written by and for the middle-aged, and it would not be at all out of place soundtracking an erectile disfunction ad. It’s generally inoffensive, though, and one would be churlish to begrudge Lennon his dull domestic satisfaction after years of unpredictable nuttiness. Thing’s catchy, too, and you can’t fight city hall on shit like that, right? A semi-interesting point to make: The puke-slick production is very ELO-like (check out those backing vocals), with the reverbed outer-space ending sounding especially similar to the Lynne-produced Beatle version of “Real Love” from the 1990s. Huh!Yoko’s back on the B for the first time since “Woman is the Nigger of the World,” and she once again shows herself to be the more progressive half of the couple, turning out a nervous, jagged pop song that straddles NYC new- and no-wave quite nicely. “Kiss Kiss Kiss” may not be as far out as some of her work from the early ’70s, but it certainly shows that she was keenly aware of what was going on around her musically at the turn of the decade – something with which the developmentally-retarded John proudly admitted as far back as 1970 he couldn’t be bothered.
(Geffen, 2000)Beck kinda lost me around this time, as his songs started disappearing within the overstuffed production and the fun seemed more and more forced. “Mixed Bizness” is a sleek funk party jam, but it all feels cold, empty, professional. There was a ramshackle goofiness, a discernable personality, on his earlier work, lost now under the relentless lover-man posturing and studio craftsmanship (even though I do laugh at that “Pour champagne on a honeybee” line). Much worse is the unnecessary “Dirty Bixin Mixness” version on the B-side – I doubt any Beck song was remixed more times and with less rewards than “Mixed Bizness” – which brings the percussion to the forefront and makes it sound like, uh, a Fatboy Slim single. Pass.
(Geffen, 1998)Beck gets all sun-drenched on the first Mutations single, piggybacking on elements of the titular musical movement, throwing in some fat electro-squelch, and delivering the lyrics in his new and improved singing voice. There’s a sleeker, more organic feel here as Nigel Godrich enters the production picture and the samples exit; it’s also worth mentioning that the tight, sympathetic band playing on “Tropicalia” had been working together through the long years of Odelay touring. There’s a similarly appealing sound on “Halo of Gold,” a Skip Spence cover whose original bare-bones outlines Beck fills in, creating a rich, multisectioned bit of alternately twangy and fuzzy Beckpop. There’s almost a cut-and-paste sensibility at work here, especially when the song breaks into its closing, percussive “Cecilia” (!!) homage.
(Geffen, 1997)
When it came time to release his fifth Odelay single, Beck cried out “Say! I’m no lazy Jane!” by dropping a six-song double 7” to show everyone what a steeldrivin’ man of music he was. OK, four of those six are versions of “Jack-Ass,” but two of those are new re-recordings that add something substantial to the picture. More about that in a minute. The two NEW new songs (uh, recorded in 1994 and 1995) are a raw – abused acoustic + growly voice – cover of the blues moldy oldie “Devil Got My Woman” and the very dark ’n’ mysterious “Brother,” whose piano, ominous bass, formless guitar squalls, and surprisingly emotive vocal make it creepier and more foreboding than anything else I’ve heard outta Beck. Intriguing stuff, and a nice companion to the similarly praiseworthy remake of “Feather in Your Cap.”
Back to “Jack-Ass.” But first, a question: This is a pretty, introspective song that is a lot more “emotionally mature” than the rest of Odelay… did Beck feel the need to saddle it with such a goofily self-critical title and then end it with the braying donkey punchline because he didn’t want to come off as “serious”? Self-conscious self-sabotage? Hmm. I saw a band once that played really nice, simple, poppy boy-girl toonz, but they were part of this larger punkhouse scene and they called themselves “The Fags,” because I suppose they thought they hadta make fun of and denigrate themselves rather than just be honest and admit/embrace the fact that, hey, we’re a silly and fun and probably twee pop group? I thought it was sad. I really did! See what I’m saying? The connection between the two? Those are my deep observations for the night.
Back to “Jack-Ass.” For REALZ!
The “Butch Vig Mix” sticks close enough to the LP version that it isn’t worth much mention. It’s shorter (to the point that it feels rushed), has a re-jiggered ending, and is generally more radio friendly than the rather lengthy and languid album take. Thanks to a pressing error, we get it twice on this EP instead of hearing the promised – and promisingly titled! – “Lowrider Mix.” Don’t worry; that one pops up on the American 12” and the European CD, and it pretty much just adds a dumb – but fun – bass thump and hip-hop beat throughout the song. “Strange Invitation”? “Jack-Ass” as performed on acoustic guitar with handsome string backing as arranged by Beck’s own daddy. Mellow cello! And that singing: significant leaps taken here towards legitimacy as a vocal bigshot. Last on the menu is the infamous “Burro,” a full-on mariachi version, crooned in Spanish. Beck would later incorporate Mexican/Latino influences more fully into his music, but back in ’97 this felt like a wacky gimmick… though one that is carefully executed and works quite well.
Gripe that I can’t cram in anywhere else: Annoyingly, the A-sides of both 7”s are much louder than the B’s. Whyzat?!
Hey, wondering why Bob Dylan gets a writing credit on “Jack-Ass”? Of course you were. The meat of the musical track here is a shimmering sample from “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue,” crucial enough to the song’s foundation to elevate Dylan to co-writer status. But here’s the crazy part! This particular sample is from Them’s cover of “Baby Blue,” and it’s an element that was not in Dylan’s version; Bobert D’s really getting away with one here! Ah well. More fun Dylan facts: There were rumors going around in 1997 that Beck, Dylan, and Paul McCartney were going to tape an Unplugged performance with Allen Ginsberg (McCartney had been collaborating with Ginsberg around this time). Old Al dropped dead, though, so it didn’t happen. However, Beck and Dylan did play a show together in Los Angeles at the end of that year, so all was right with the world. The end.
…OR WAS IT???
(Geffen, 1997)“Sissyneck” always felt like the neglected Odelay single. No video, no remixes, no American release (the other four songs pulled from the LP had US 12”s)… no hit! A shame, too, because this is a fun little smirk-free shitkicker, a trashed-out tale of late-90s, beer-swillin’, dime-store outlawry with some appropriate pedal steel in the chorus. What’s not to like? The B-side, a second stab at “Feather in Your Cap” (which was first on the “It’s All in Your Mind” 7”), is a champ as well. This time around, Beck slows the tempo, alters some lyrics, and builds a moody, evocative arrangement that suits the song far better than the tossed-off feel of the original. In its depressed beauty, “Feather” is quite different from the rest of the Odelay material – other than “Jack-Ass,” perhaps – and foreshadows the direction in which Beck would soon head on Mutations. I’m sorry these reviews are so boring lately, it’s just that I, like so many others this time of year, have a serious case of “State of the Union Fever” and can think of nothing else. I can’t wait to see our wonderful President lay out his brilliant 2008 plans in eloquent – poetic, even – terms on Monday night. As I insist (tears in my eyes) every evening when I’m leading my family in saying grace before dinner, we’re so lucky to be living in an age where we share the same air as George W. Bush. God bless you, sir; you’re my favorite President since the late, great Richard M. Nixon. America wins again.
(Geffen, 1996)Not a terribly interesting song, “Devil’s Haircut” is built around an endlessly repeated sample (interpolation?) of the guitar riff from “I Can Only Give You Anything” and never launches off into any surprising directions. Catchy enough and rockin’ enough, but no great shakes at the end of the day; probably the least exciting of the five Odelay singles. The slinky, funky “Lloyd Price Express” is a remix of “Where It’s At” that successfully reimagines the song as a smooth, soulful jam instead of a hip-hop-based number. This won’t be included on the upcoming deluxe edition of Odelay (only place to find it on CD is the Japanese “Where It’s At” EP), so hang onto your “Devil’s Haircut” 45, son, hang on for dear life.
(Geffen, 1981)
