San Antonio Express-News (Sunday)
Even after 50 years, ex-Beatle Lennon still stirs the soul
It was a therapy session set to music — raw, naked and bitter.
“Plastic Ono Band,” the first solo effort by an ex-Beatle, was painful to hear, the laments of a tortured man expressing his fear, rage and loneliness through the only outlet at his command — his art.
Robert Hilburn, the rock critic for the Los Angeles Times, called it a masterpiece.
“It is full of ache and sorrow,” he wrote.
It is easy to plunge into hyperbole when it comes to the Beatles, but when they disbanded, it was like seeing Hemingway retire in his prime. Or Picasso. Or Coltrane. All the lush melodies, all the disarming lyrics, everything we had anticipated from them in the months and years ahead, disappearing into an ether of their own making.
Solace came soon with the first studio effort by John Lennon in 1971. He was always the most honest Beatle, the one most comfortable exploring the dark labyrinths of his soul — the fears, the insecurities, the anger …
Remember “Norwegian Wood,” “I’m a Loser,” and “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”? But this was different; this was confession raised — or lowered — to an uncomfortable level, the soundtrack to a nervous breakdown.
And yet it resonated with a pop audience unfamiliar with a man brave enough to carve into his heart and let the world see what was inside. It could have been an exercise in self-pity, a dive into narcissism and egomania. But no. Lennon was not interested in self-adulation; he was focused on telling the tale of a frightened, bitter man — a man who never outgrew the child he once was.
“It is interesting and even enlightening to see a man working out his trauma on black plastic, but more than that, it’s totally enthralling to see that Lennon has once again unified, to some degree, his life and his music into a truly whole statement,” Dave Marsh, the esteemed rock critic, wrote.
It was, in retrospect, an astonishing moment in rock ’n’ roll. Dylan, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones had blown the lid off the limitations of the genre long before, but this was — and remains — an extraordinary event. Rock ’n’ roll, the music of pimplefaced teenagers, grew up.
No wonder, then, that the record label, Capitol/UMe, has reissued the album to celebrate its 50th anniversary— a “super deluxe” edition that features 159 tracks, almost 90 of which have never been released. It boasts six CDs and two Blueray discs. That means you’ll get more outtakes, jams and studio conversation than you ever wanted to hear.
The best thing about these reissues is not the bells and whistles, the feathers and frills, which come with them. If we needed those, the albums would never have become classics in the first place.
No, what makes them significant, even crucial, is that they refocus attention on works of art that should — and will, with or without the marketing ploys — last forever. Does Michelangelo need a PR campaign to sustain interest in the Cistine Chapel? Or
Shakespeare in the plays and sonnets? Or Proust in “In Search of Lost Time”?
It may seem blasphemous to place a mere pop singer in the category of those giants. Granted. But John Lennon was not a mere pop singer; he was a titanically gifted artist, and when The Beatles broke up in 1969, he reemerged with one of the greatest albums in rock ’n’ roll history.
Start off with “Mother,” one of the most scabrous songs every composed. It is almost excruciating to hear. No, not almost. You play it, and the meat cleavers fly out of the speakers.
Then you have “God,” “I
Found Out” and “Working Class Hero” — songs that delve deep into the soul of a troubled man. The other ex-Beatles produced transcendent albums in the years following their breakup — especially Paul McCartney (Band on the Run) and George Harrison
(All Things Must Pass). But Plastic Ono Band may be the towering achievement by any former member of the Fab Four.
“I’m not going to change the way I look or the way I feel to conform to anything,” Lennon once said. “I’ve been a freak my whole life.” A freak? Perhaps. But most great artists are outliers, strangers to “normalcy.”
Fifty years is a long time, but the years fade away when you hear the songs. They are as raw, naked and painful as ever. And just as likely to stir your heart.
Robert Seltzer is a longtime journalist and former member of the Express-News Editorial Board. He is the author of “Amado Muro and Me: A Tale of Honesty and Deception.”