The Beatles – A Collection of Beatles Oldies But Goldies! (PCS 7016) (1966)

In one of his greatest flourishes, Ian MacDonald likened the Beatles’ creative growth to the flowering of a desiduous plant whereby the band, as in nature, regularly and beautifully renewed itself; he contrasts this with an industrial model, which seeks improvement simply through volume of sales. In spite of its non-chronological sequencing, no other EMI Lp issued during the band’s lifetime illustrates this point more vividly than A Collection of Beatles Oldies But Goldies.

Correctly sensing the era of lovable moptoppery drawing to a close and there being no other product for stocking-stuffing to hand, Parlophone dropped the first British Beatles Best Of in time for Christmas ’66. And so with a generously appointed 16 tracks totalling nearly 40 minutes and the first Lp appearance of seven songs previously available only as singles (here, re-mixed for stereo), Oldies But Goldies, almost despite its cynical conception, crackles with life and represented good value for your Xmas £sd. Interestingly, not all extant EMI Beatles 7″s were included: début single “Love Me Do” (1962), whose rudimentary tweeness might’ve mildly embarrassed the band at this point, was summarily dropped.

Sleeved with an inappropriate David Christian illustration more suited to The New Vaudeville Band and given a deliberately hectoring, trite title, the album charts an incredible three-year ride from warm but simple inanities like “From Me To You” (1963) to intricately-produced  clever, clever social comment such as ”Paperback Writer” (1966). A greater raison d’être differential exists nowhere else in pop.

To the list of Beatles’ justly lauded popular music innovations (in-house writing, sampling ["Revolution #9"], feedback ["I Feel Fine"], cross-cultural pollination ["Norwegian Wood", et al.], studio bound existence, etc., etc., etc.), you may add the dubious one of the perfunctorily appended bonus track in the form of “Bad Boy”, a piece of “pressured hackwork”, according to MacDonald, which was heretofore unreleased in the UK making Oldies just that much more requisite for completists. No masterpiece, it describes a juvenile miscreant who “worries his teacher, till at night she’s ready to poop“. Seriously, imagine having to sing that.

Robert Whittaker’s [sic] jade-enhanced rear cover photograph was taken on 30th June in the band’s hotel room during the 1966 Japanese tour.  Note the large doodle just above McCartney’s head. It might just be an inchoate version of this or something similar.

My £1 thrift store purchased copy is a 1973 fourth pressing (black and grey label, two EMI box logos), so no big shakes money-wise.

Wings – Venus and Mars (Capitol PCTC 254) (1975)

Okay, our man made some pretty mediocre Lps with Wings, but one thing, he didn’t stint on the packaging. Venus and Mars gatefold sleeve was designed by Hipgnosis and came with all manner of posters and stickers, the latter posed below on George Hardie’s whimsical, geometric inner sleeve.

In fact, Venus and Mars is a solid album, even as it signified rock’s transition to safe, relatively adult mass entertainment.

Yes, I do already own a copy of V&M, but, you see, that one’s a repress on Columbia, not this oddity, a British Capitol issue, and it came with the original stuff and…and…no, I can’t/won’t justify its purchase. I’ll just sit over here. [quietly sings] “Sitting in the stands of the sports area, waiting for the show to begin…”

Paul McCartney – McCartney (Apple PCS 7102) (1970)

LOCAL GEEK PURCHASES FIRST MACCA SOLO Lp FOR THIRD TIME

In a move seen to have little or no consequence, local music geek Norman Eclaire has purchased McCartney, former Beatle Paul McCartney’s  first solo album, for a third time, this one at the Hythe Demelza House charity shop for one pound. Ironically, Eclaire first bought the Lp at a thrift store in his native Ohio sometime during the mid to late 1970s. “I used to practice drums along with the record for hours,” Eclaire recalled fondly. “It was pretty scratchy and  ’Kreen-Akrore’ had some white gunk spilled on it or something so it sounded like white noise for the last minute. I’m not sure what ever happened to that copy.”

“Paul played all the instruments on McCartney and recorded it himself at home on a Studer 4-Track, making it a true solo album,” he added, showing the pitiless and absurd attention to trivial pop music detail which has served only to alienate him from humanity, apart from those who share his ultimately meaningless and practically useless obsession.

What makes the recent acquisition even more inane is the fact that the friendless collector currently owns a mint 1992 Japanese, 24k gold-plated DCC compact disc re-issue, remastered by no less than Steve Hoffman.

“There’s just something about size and feel of vinyl, not to mention the warmth of the sound,” Eclaire enthused, as the tiny flicker of light which danced behind his cold, dead eyes slowly extinguished itself. “I like the cosy feeling of the deliberately ramshackle performances and lo-fi production, especially on ‘Every Night’ and ‘Momma Miss America.’”

Others were less impressed with the recent buy. Greg Posnac, another joyless nerd, dismissed it with the faintest of praises: “Big whoop, it’s a VG+ condition British first press McCartney. Show me an initial promo copy of the album with the notorious interview sheet included and I might be impressed. And, let’s be honest, it’s a pretty patchy record, apart from the glorious ‘Maybe I’m Amazed’ and even that would have sounded better as an Abbey Road production.”

Eclaire was also pathetically keen to share an (actually very good) oversized, hard-back first edition with dust jacket of Linda’s Pictures, which he picked up at a village hall tabletop sale while on holiday last summer in Cornwall.

John Lennon – Walls and Bridges (Apple SW 3416) (1974)

Just for fun, a gallery of Walls and Bridges images. This was purchased for me, when I was off high school laid up with mononucleosis (aka “mono” aka “kissing disease”), from a yard sale on Mount Vernon’s east end by my father purely because he found the cover interesting. It cost a buck. He also got Shaved Fish from the same sale. It seems to get short shrift these days, but this is surely a top five best Beatles solo album, full of excellent performances and hidden gems, especially “What You Got”. And it came with a lyric booklet!

Buzz Rabin – Cross Country Cowboy (Elektra 75076) (1974)

Pull up a stool son and set a spell, lemme tell yew mah story…can I gitchoo a drank? Yew wanna cheroot?…well, it all started when that Pete Drake…huh? uh, he’s a producer and pedal steel player…he done some pickin’ on that All Thangs Mus’ Pass record album by Beatle George. Well, him and ol’ Ringo, who’s a-drummin’ on that record album, got to be best buds and ‘fore yew know it, they’s in Nashville makin’ another record album. Pete comes to me and says, “Buzz,” that’s my name by the way, Buzz Rabin, “Buzz,” he says, “We need a title track for this here record album.” And I goes, “How’s ’bout ‘Beaucoups [editor: pronounced boo-koos] of Blues’? That’s a good song for yer Limey friend to sang.” And dam’ if they didn’t up and do it.

Well, I starts to writin’ songs for ever’body in country music then and perty soon my buddy, Russ Miller, says you’s a perty good sanger, Buzz, you should be fixin’ to make yer own record album and git ol’ Pete to hep yew make it. So we did. Me and Pete decided to make it a concep’ album about life on the road with lil’ bits o’ what I calls “travelin’ music” in between the songs, you know, fast country stuff, with the title track openin’ the album an’ a reprise of it at the end, jus’ like Sgt. Pepper’s or Venus and Mars.  Yuh see, Ol’ Willie ditn’t make the firs’ country music concep’ album–Buzz Rabin did! Had him beat by a year, I did [editor: Willie Nelson's Red Headed Stranger (1975)]. Heh, heh. Yeah, that Cross Country Cowboy‘s professionally performed, typical country music with the typical chord changes and typical subjec’ matter [editor: drinking, women, Jesus]. Took the pitchure on the cover at T.G.I. Friday’s [editor: true]. It’s a perty good album and I ain’t a bad singer, jus’ mebbe a little characterless. I wonder why I done never made another record or why I don’ have me an entry in Wikipedia. Anyhoo, I bought me some fancy suede duds and a leather vest with the record album advance, so it ain’t all bad.

Say, can I gitchoo anothuh drank?

[editor: I paid 50p for this US pressing of Cross Country Cowboy at an animal charity shop in Deal, Kent.]

Traveling Wilburys (1988)

Time was when this was extremely hard to come by, and expensive when you did. Nowadays you can get it from a charity shop in Kent for a pound. In fact, this isn’t a bad record at all, the joyous busman’s holiday feel of lowered expectations and Pythonesque humour is infectious and everyone’s worst excesses are kept in check. For better or worse, several careers were extended/saved in the process.

Paul McCartney – Give My Regards to Broad Street (EMI EL 26 0278 1) (1984)

“We All Stand Together” – Paul McCartney (1984) 7″ single

Usually cited by haters as the moment Paul went beyond the pale, the Frog Chorus tune is actually fine. There’s no shame in it.

Buying the 7″ at Smeeth bootfair when you’ve already got the picture disc is beyond the pale and a bit shameful. We’ve all got our crosses.

This and the previous two posts are the result of today’s carried-out threat to get to bootfairs by 7am. Time will tell if I can keep up the pace.

Wings Over America (1976)

When I was 13, I went to Peaches Records and Tapes chain store in Columbus, Ohio on the city’s east side for the first time. It was a magical place and I bought Rubber Soul–a good day. Apart from an absolutely vast selection, the thing that most impressed me were the excellently rendered giant 7′ x 7′ paintings of contemporary album sleeves that lined the walls.  The ceilings were very high to accommodate these behemoths and even then it struck me as an incredibly labour intensive promotion. I wondered if the pictures toured the stores and what happened to Cat Stevens’ Izitso, for example, when that record was no longer current. My favourite painting was of the inner sleeve of the treble live Lp Wings Over America in all its 70s glory–awesome! What I wouldn’t give for that monstrosity now.

I note too that Lee Perry hung the same gatefold up in the Black Ark–see the Arkology booklet.

A free poster!

Paul McCartney – McCartney II (1980)

I bought this album when it came out despite Rolling Stone‘s contemporary scathing review, the headline of which was “McCartney Hits a New Low…Again”. In fact, the album, which was largely made up of what I call Sir Spiggy’s “Pot Noodles” (i.e. the product of reefer-addled hubris) and not created, at least initially, for public consumption, has worn, with exceptions (“Bogey Music”), rather well. In due course, I lost my original copy of the Lp (though not, oddly enough, the one-sided, white label “Coming Up (live in Glasgow)” single that came with the initial US pressings), but was so enamoured of it when I re-got it a month ago at the Etchinghill bootfair that I picked this up as well. Though ostensibly not an official release, I sense the heavy hand of contrivance–the tie-in with the soon-come “Deluxe” re-issue being suggestive.

Rumour had it at the time that the four photograph gatefold was some sort of Beatles goof, but the only ones that come close to sense are Ringo (the photo with the ring) and John (in trademark “granny glasses”). So then what are we to make of  the borderline racist “Oriental” picture–a dig George’s fascination with Eastern Mysticism? A Yoko jibe?