Why are you so negative?

The full title should be: Why are you so negative about the Beatles' solo albums? Which is something I've read quite a lot in comments on US Amazon, and on random Beatles message boards and websites. You know: "Doggett's book is fine, but he really seems to have a problem with albums by Paul/John/Ringo/George" (delete as appropriate). And the answer to the question is quite simple: it's because I judge them by the same high standards that I would apply to the Beatles.

As I've said before on this blog, You Never Give Me Your Money wasn't a book about the Beatles' solo careers, so the only time I've mentioned the music is when it is relevant to the story I was telling - about the Beatles as an institution, and about how the four of them had to struggle to live in the shadow of what had gone before. So that explains why, for example, when I talk about Ram in the book, I discuss it in terms of what it says about Paul's relationship with John (quite a bit), how John reacted (badly), and what the critics thought of it (generally, they hated it). If you zoom ahead to the acknowledgements at the end of the book, you discover that Ram is one of my all-time favourite albums. But that's not relevant to the narrative of the book, which is why I don't make the case for it in the text.

Having said how much I love Ram, I would have to admit that I don't think it's a perfect album, not by any means. Think about it realistically: song-for-song, is Ram a better album than A Hard Day's Night? Or Revolver? Or Abbey Road? I don't think so. Now, it may be the case that given the choice, I might prefer to play Ram tonight instead of any of those Beatles albums. But that doesn't make it a flawless masterpiece.

Then we can move down the line and say - OK, I love Ram, but what about Red Rose Speedway? Well, I played that in the car the other week, and I enjoyed it, but is it really a great album? Or even a good McCartney album? How many Beatles albums are better than Red Rose Speedway? What's that you say - all of them? You're probably right.

So that's the way I approach these records: just because I'm a fan (and I am, honest), that doesn't mean that I think that everything the Beatles ever did, together or definitely solo, is a work of genius. What's more, it doesn't help anyone if I pretend that all their albums are superb. Just imagine that I was writing a book about the Beatles, and I said, "Then John Lennon issued Wedding Album, a masterpiece; and Ringo followed through with Sentimental Journey, another masterpiece . . ." - fine, until someone actually plays either of those records, and goes, "What????"

I would much rather be honest and say, upfront, that most of the Beatles' solo albums aren't as good - by whatever objective standard you care to mention - as most of the Beatles' records. Most John Lennon records aren't as good as Plastic Ono Band. Most of Paul's don't match up to Ram. Most of George's can't equal All Things Must Pass. And most of Ringo's . . . well, I enjoyed Beaucoups Of Blues and Ringo, and let's leave it there.

Meanwhile, here's a list of albums that I don't think are worthy of the Beatles' collective name: Mind Games, Wild Life, Dark Horse, Goodnight Vienna (and that's only the beginning of the list). But I could guarantee you that if I were to play any of those records right now, I would actively get pleasure from them - partly for nostalgic reasons, partly because I love the people who made them, and partly because there are enough small, idiosyncratic pleasures to be had from listening to those records to make it worth my while. But I would never want to go into print and recommend that newcomers to the Beatles' music start with those records, because they're simply not good enough.

You can call that attitude "negative", if you want; but I prefer to call it "realistic". Now, where did I put that CD of Wild Life? . . .

What about the music?

From time to time, I check out what people have been saying about my book on Amazon (there are dozens of reviews on the US site, ranging from 1-star to 5-star) and on various Beatles blogs. If you stick your head above the parapet, you can expect to have a few missiles thrown at you, and there have been so many good reviews of You Never Give Me Your Money that I would be churlish to complain about the occasional bad one. Plus it's always intriguing to glimpse how other people see you.

But there have been two or three themes that have surfaced over and over in critical comments about the book, to the extent that I thought I ought to explain why I decided to do what I did. Whether you agree with me is up to you - but I just wanted to show that I did think about this stuff before I published the book.

Maybe the most common complaint is that there isn't enough about music in the book. And following on from that, people have said that when I have bothered to write about the music, I've often been too critical of the Beatles' solo catalogues.

Well, this is my side of the story. When I started thinking about writing this book, I realised immediately that there was no way I could tell the full story of four solo careers, and four lives, from 1969 to the present day, and expect to collect everything in a book of fewer than about five thousand pages. So my first very decision about You Never Give Me Your Money was that it wasn't a book about the Beatles' solo careers. It was very definitely a book about the Beatles as a collective entity: how they broke up, what the immediate aftermath was, and how they coped, as musicians and human beings, with the pressure of living with that incredible legacy hanging over their heads. I also wanted to write about what happened to the institution of the Beatles after the split: how it was handled by Apple and EMI, and how the four individual members reacted towards each other, and towards the very concept of 'the Beatles'.

That's why (for example) there is plenty in the book about the sour relations at various times between John and Paul, or Paul and George, or sometimes John and George, or even Ringo and George - it's because they were the Beatles, and their post-split arguments were (a sad) part of the Beatles' story. In this book, I was only interested in the Beatles' solo musical careers where they had a bearing on the Beatles as a whole - either because (as on 'Too Many People', 'How Do You Sleep', 'Run Of The Mill' and 'Early 1970') they were writing about each other, or because they were competing for popularity with each other, as was obviously the case in 1971. So no matter how much I loved a particular record, I only wrote about it to the extent that it reflected on their status as an ex-Beatle. That's why, for example, I talked about the very negative reception of Ram in the book, when it's actually my favourite Paul McCartney album. I'd love one day to write at length about why I love that record so much, but You Never Give Me Your Money wasn't the time or place for it. What mattered for the story I was telling was that Ram weakened Paul in the struggle for post-Beatles supremacy, because it was perceived as being a poor record. But I can understand that it is possible to read the book, and come away thinking that I must hate Ram, because I didn't spend a whole page defending it.

As I said earlier, people have also complained that I was too harsh in general about many of their favourite solo albums - and also about the Anthology projects, 'Free As A Bird', the Love album, Let It Be Naked . . . the list goes on. So that's something I'll talk about next time, to answer the question: "Why are you so negative about the Beatles' solo releases?" Also on my list for discussion, in case you're wondering, are the following complaints: "Why are you so cynical about the Beatles?" And not forgetting, "Do you actually like the Beatles?" Bear with me, and I'll get there as soon as I can . . .

McCartney and Ram

Returning to this blog after a couple of weeks when I've been lost in non-Beatles-related work, I see that I've received some fascinating information about potential bonus tracks on the McCartney and Ram reissues, hidden away in the comments section of the previous entry. Thanks to those who've contributed, and if you haven't seen those comments, check 'em out!

Paul McCartney Archive Collection

"Coming soon to the Paul McCartney Archive Collection" is the headline on a small insert in the Band On The Run repackage, which I finally got around to buying (not the £75 version, naturally). Underneath are pictures of six McCartney albums, which will presumably all be enlarged over the next year or two. Thoughts and suggestions as follows . . .

McCARTNEY: I can't imagine how this could be extended, though I love the idea of a set of pre-album demos (which would probably be more 'produced' than the finished record). I'd be delighted if Paul can suddenly lay his hands on an hour of out-takes, even if they all turn out to be instrumentals. Anyone fancy a 30-minute version of 'Momma Miss America'? (I do.) More likely would be full-length versions of 'Suicide' and 'The Lovely Linda' (if Paul ever finished it), alongside the 1971 B-side 'Oh Woman Oh Why' (which always sounded to me as if it belonged on McCartney rather than Ram).

RAM: This gets me genuinely excited, as it's my favourite McCartney album. If there's a demo of 'Back Seat Of My Car' in Paul's vaults, I want to hear it. A proper retrospective of the Ram sessions would have to include two tracks that were belatedly included on Red Rose Speedway, 'Little Lamb Dragonfly' and 'Get On The Right Thing', plus the I-can't-believe-this-still-hasn't-been-released gem 'A Love For You'. In their wonderful book Eight Arms To Hold You, Chip Madinger and Mark Easter reckoned that 'Little Woman Love' was also a Ram out-take, plus of course the single 'Another Day'. Then there's the mono mix of the entire LP, which appeared on a US promo, and the ten minutes of amusing nonsense issued as another promo, Brung To Ewe By. I'd love to believe that there are hours of rough mixes and alternate takes locked in a cupboard somewhere; I'd also love to believe that Paul might lower his guard long enough to release them. But I'm not holding my breath.

VENUS AND MARS: We know there are rough mixes and out-takes from these 1974/5 sessions, because they're available on bootleg. And there are 'live' versions of several songs from the LP which were tackled during the Elstree rehearsals in September 1975. Plus film footage that was used for the videos promoting 'Letting Go' and 'Venus And Mars/Rock Show'. But why am I feeling bored at the prospect? Maybe it's because the charm of this record lies as much in its production as its songwriting, so anything less than perfection is going to pale by comparison.

WINGS AT THE SPEED OF SOUND: To my mind, this is the weakest of the Wings albums, and I'm not aware of any out-takes from the sessions. So the mind boggles at how Paul might be able to extend this to two or three CDs/DVDs. I'm happy to be surprised, though.

WINGS OVER AMERICA: Another strange choice. Obviously, there must be more material available, as Eight Arms To Hold You reckoned that the original 3-LP set was taken from eight different shows, and it's entirely possible that every US concert in May/June 1976 is somewhere in the archive. Plus there is plenty of film footage, as the tour spawned both the Rock Show and Wings Over The World films. But . . . could there possibly be anything new to give us? The set-list remained virtually the same throughout the tour.

McCARTNEY II: Well, there's certainly room for a two-CD edition of this album, because it was originally meant to appear as a double-LP, with several additional 'songs' and extended versions of several more. I can't imagine playing it more than once, mind you, but it would be worth owning as a reminder of one of Paul's more adventurous trips into the unexpected.

The overall verdict? It depends how McCartney approaches each of these projects. He is understandably reticent to throw open the vaults and let everything out, because a major part of his talent is/was knowing where to draw the line. My hunch is that he will always err on the side of conservatism, and hold out-takes back rather than letting all his dirty laundry blow proudly in the breeze. But then whoever imagined that he would do something like Oobu Joobu, which was full of weird off-cuts and curios? Be brave, Paul: the fans will love you for it, and you'll also sell more records that way.