Everybody pulled their socks up
It’s a question that has plagued humankind for a full half-century, and, truthfully, I possess no definitive answer: Beatles or Stones?
Overall, I’d have to say I prefer the Beatles, but admit it could be the simple fact the Stones continued long after the Fab Four hung up their collective spurs, and, frankly, there’s a lot of dross that subsequently emanated from Mick and da boiz. The Beatles, however, seldom failed to delight even when saddled with substandard material by their own customary high qualities. But they called it quits after what is arguably their finest studio recording, “Abbey Road,” which followed the recording of arguably their weakest, “Let It Be.”
The Stones, on the other hand, plodded on for decades after the Beatles split. Lead guitarists Brian Jones and Mick Taylor punched out after helping to shepherd the band to creative musical heights never again attained, which is a shame because Ron Wood’s stellar resume should have signaled a true creative renaissance (but, unfortunately, didn’t). I’ll come right out and say it: Keith Richards’ X-pensive Winos had more going for it artistically than the past 40-some years of Stones’ output, and having the opportunity to see both the Stones and the Winos live cements my impression.
I didn’t set out to slag the Stones. We’ll always have the classic Jimmy Miller/mick Taylor era, and one rule when listening to XM Radio is it’s time to turn the station whenever a Stones’ song featuring a harpsichord is broadcast.
What I really wanted to discuss is the Beatles; or, more specifically, Peter Jackson’s eight-hour mega-opus retooling Michael Lindsayhogg’s original “Let It Be” footage. If you thought it was absurd constructing a cinematic trilogy out of Tolkien’s “The Hobbit,” you’ll agree with me when I say much of “Get Back” is a newly resurrected Middle Earth monster my younger brother dubbed the Slog.
Despite several great songs and other songs of varying quality, “Let It Be” serves mainly as a necessary dress rehearsal for “Abbey Road.” As a whole, the LP is perhaps the least cohesive effort in the Beatles’ catalog.
So there’s no real reason a transitional phase in the sunset years of the world’s most popular aggregation of musicians/songwriters should warrant the epic treatment. The “Let It Be” film already covered 90% of the necessary ground.
But, for those of you who missed it first time around, it captures Paul at his most imperious, George at the height of petulance (much of it warranted, in my opinion), Ringo mostly checked out, and John strung out. Jackson includes footage of Peter Sellers, which only serves to point out Ringo’s impending costar in “The Magic Christian” had little patience with John’s drug intoxication.
When the actual songs are there, however, no matter the person responsible for writing them, the band clicks into high gear with impeccable harmonies, high-caliber musicianship and lead vocals just this side of the Pearly Gates. Watching the initial kernel of “Get Back” eventually fleshed out is, at first, spectacular — before the Slog takes it down several blind alleys (A full-throated protest song? Really?) — but eventually emerges once again as a song worthy of its initial inception with a truly breathtaking live performance on a rooftop somewhere in London thanks be to Billy Preston’s electrifying electric piano. That’s surely the Way God Planned It, to crib the title of one of Preston’s most famous songs.
All told, it’s a pretty good document of a band splintering under pressure determined to pull up their socks, put their foot down and fulfill a recording commitment in only three weeks.
Eight hours is a heck of a time investment, however. Although I’m a died in the wool Beatles fan, eight hours is way too long to spend on the recording of inferior material.
Despite several great songs and other songs of varying quality, “Let It Be” serves mainly as a necessary dress rehearsal for “Abbey Road.” As a whole, the LP is perhaps the least cohesive effort in the Beatles’ catalog.