Reviews by kuvien

People listen to this kind of bland music?

Being just a studio band as a pop music group was unheard of before this album. Beatlemania was at an end, and the Beatles were no longer merely a product to be sold. The band stopped touring, and there was a significant downshift in the marketing side of things, and this put more focus on actually creating music.

A lot of people know Rubber Soul as the Beatles' pot album, since Bob Dylan had introduced them to marijuana in 1964. The lads smoked a lot of pot during the recording of Help!, and that marijuana motif spills over into this album, what with the album cover being reminiscent of the leaves as well as the distorted image evoking a sense of altered consciousness. Unlike on Help!, however, the Beatles didn't work high on this album. They took their drug experiences into the studio but not the drugs. Rubber Soul has vision and articulation, a clear-headed and purposeful musical statement.

This is also where the Lennon / McCartney rivalry really takes off. The duo were rarely writing together by this point, just answering each other's songs instead, like a game of oneupmanship. One day Lennon would come into the studio with a song, the next day McCartney would show up with something of his own.

Harrison was also getting in on the songwriting act. He had only two songs on the first five albums, but now he's got two songs just on this album. This is the real beginning of his songwriting career, and you can hear the maturity as he just gets better and better. On his "Think for Yourself", he's not afraid to try a bit of sound experimentation: the two simultaneous bass guitar lines, one conventional and the other run through a fuzzbox.

Overall, the general songwriting style of the Beatles was changing. No more naive, shallow love songs about dating and holding hands. There's a sense of adventure, a sense of questioning, no doubt influenced by the drug use, the sexual experiences, and the dabbling in spirituality, evidenced in the song "The Word", wherein belief in the sufficiency of love is proclaimed. With love, all the world's problems are solved. Despite these new frontiers, the band keeps to the brevity and clarity of the classic pop song.

Rubber Soul also has a streak of sarcasm and irony running through it. The Beatles are laughing at and joking about their fame as they comment on stardom and seduction. Everyone fawned over the Beatles, everyone lusted after them. The best example is "Drive My Car", and musically it's an interesting number: the guitar and bass doubling the vocal, the use of the tambourine instead of the cymbal, the drumming rimshots, creating a stronger, sharper sound.

Let's go back to that new frontier idea I mentioned earlier. Listen to "Norwegian Wood". This is the first time that the sitar replaces the lead guitar. Look at the social criticism on "Nowhere Man", the opening a capella line and somber tone giving the impression of profundity. This song attacks their parents' generation of conformity.

Even sad sacks who think The Smiths are great and cannot escape the absurdity and humiliation of their daily existence love this album.

I'll send an SOS to the world: this album is criminally underrated. At least underrated by music nerds. Maybe because it has the band’s first two no 1 singles? I don’t know. It seems to be getting more love these days, but that might be because as the years pass and more time is put between this album and us, we’re able to appreciate it apart from the hype. It’s not a perfect album by any means, but it’s got its own charm, especially considering the band had complete artistic control, anemic as it may be in spots. There was no meddling by the label.

The idiot who compiled this list sure loves sophisticrap.

There is this slow, unassailable, confident energy enveloping this whole album. And it's all a night energy--literally the first four songs directly reference nighttime. This confidence of an idiot who doesn't know any better is just so darned attractive, especially when the person in question is not an idiot. Oh, and I prefer this version of "China Girl". I wonder what it was like to walk the streets of Berlin at night in the 70s. With Bowie at your side. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to hear that his ghost still walks there, moseying along to the warped electronics of "Mass Production". And one last thing: if you're going to get your strings pulled by someone, you could do worse than Bowie.

Some albums are perfect examples of what they set out to do, and this album is a perfect example of an Album of Two Sides, because these two sides are two sides to the same story, A being the sounds of the surface, the story you tell everyone, the one exposed to those around you, and so the songs are more poppy yet retaining a visionary, experimental edge; then side B delves below the surface, into the realm of haunting synthesizers, darkly lit by the mood of Bowie's recovery from a crippling cocaine addiction.

This album was released amidst the smoke of a holy war. Lennon famously said in an interview that The Beatles were “more popular than Jesus.” This caused outrage in America, inciting public bonfires sponsored by radio stations. They burned and destroyed Beatles’ albums, and the music was banned from the airwaves in the South. What Lennon meant, of course, was that rock music was replacing God. It was merely an observation that Christianity was losing its influence. And of course so many people hung onto every word Lennon uttered. He was the voice of his generation, a spokesman for his restive peers. He talked openly about drugs and the Vietnam War. He sparked rock journalism: everyone wrote about his Jesus comment. People started listening to the opinions of rock stars, and there was born a quality and truth in rock ‘n roll reporting.

This album marked the end of touring for The Beatles. Anti-Beatles’ sentiment was widespread—in Japan, the Philippines, and in America. Besides, touring annoyed the erstwhile Fab Four. They didn’t enjoy touring at all in 1966. There were simply too many distractions, and their songs weren’t suitable to be played live. “Rain” and “Paperback Writer” just didn’t sound good in concert. The Beatles were more than happy to stop touring. In profound relief, Harrison is quoted as saying, “I can stop pretending to be a Beatle.” He and his bandmates could leave behind the limitations of touring—PA systems not being powerful enough for stadium concerts and difficulties in hearing the music over the screaming crowds caused the band’s technical skill to deteriorate.

The studio process continued from the experimentation we hear on Rubber Soul, but there are marked differences. The difference between 1965 and 1966 is the difference between the early 60s and the late 60s. Though that looks like an obvious and banal observation, it says a lot as far as The Beatles are concerned, for it is the difference between being live performers and being a studio collective band. The Beatles stopped worrying about appropriate concert music and started considering imaginative sonic and musical ranges. The technology was in the studio, not on the stage. The beauty of “Taxman”, for example, is that it sounds like it could be live, but in fact there’s no way they could have done it justice in front of a crowd at that time. “I’m Only Sleeping” evokes a dreamlike mood with a dual-guitar solo played backwards. “She Said She Said” (a surreal tune about Lennon’s first LSD trip), “For No One” (wherein the clavichord and French horn are dominant), and “Love You To” (sitar as main instrument) were hardly concert-appropriate songs. And how the hell would they ever have been able to play “Tomorrow Never Knows” live? This masterpiece displays a world of new capabilities. It’s our first look into Lennon’s intoxicating, terrifyingly wonderful mind. A one-chord drone throughout the song is outside pop rock sensibilities, and the use of tape-loops and vocal processing technology place the piece firmly in the annals of psychedelia.

Truly awful.

Truly awful.

Illimitable, iconic vocal harmonies beckoning us back to a time of musical revolution, taking the public ear from 60s blues rock into a new decade of singer/songwriters. By the way, comparing your “m’lady” to Guinevere isn’t a good thing. If she’s also drawing pentagrams on your walls, run. Leave her before she leaves you for a guy who picks oranges just as well as he picks a guitar.

This bloke has done it all and played on every other album out there. Not only is his solo discography long and impressive, so is his work with different bands, as well as collaborations. When I was listening to this album, my wife mentioned how it wasn’t doing much for her. I immediately disagreed, pointing out that although the album isn’t robust (that is, it doesn’t work when people are lightly chatting while listening), Wyatt knows exactly what he’s doing. The man is a master. Brian Eno producing, by the way.

This album strikes me as quite sarcastic, as only a Brit can make it, but the last track, “Waterloo Sunset”, is just so beautiful and a nice turn of attitude. Just escape to the other side of the river, away from the teeming millions, and be in paradise as you watch the sunset with your true love. I’m more in the lovers’ camp than the melancholy observer’s, so I get what he’s only seeing.

This is the Beatles' passage to India, popularizing the West's flirtation with the East and all things "exotic". Their spiritual guide in all this? Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, who blew their English minds by telling them that “heaven is like electricity—you don’t see it; it is within you”. Such "wisdom" hooked the Fab Four, and they followed the maharishi to northern India, believing that this form of spiritualism offered real answers through meditation, relaxation, and peace after years of fame, fortune, and publicity. Let's just ignore the total irony of this situation--the fact that Lennon was always anti-religious.

Could this respite in rural India help the Beatles rise above their worldly concerns and viewpoints? And can this actually be called a respite, since reporters and photographers followed them to the compound? The mere presence of the Beatles in India was enough to popularize Eastern spiritualism in the 1960s West. (Of course, after a few days of nothing happening, the reporters, in boredom, left.) This trip was pretty much inevitable, since it was nothing more than an extension of the drug experience. People were looking for euphoria, looking for god-figures in everything. Harrison actually took it seriously and grew quite devout through meditation. Devoted to what, though? The quiet Beatle wasn't giving away his secrets. Though Lennon, too, tried taking his seclusion seriously, he had trouble concentrating, what with the troubles in his marriage and the fact that Yoko kept sending him letters, with little poems like "I'm a cloud, look for me". Lennon was quickly smitten.

McCartney and Starr weren't as keen as their two bandmates on the whole spiritual enlightenment thing, and besides, there was still music to make. Lennon and McCartney learned to fingerpick their acoustic guitars, the former writing "Julia" (a goodbye to his mother and hello to Yoko) and "Dear Prudence", the latter writing "Blackbird". Actually, most of the songs for The White Album and Abbey Road were written during their stay in India.

It didn't take long for problems to arise, however. The maharishi started using the Beatles' name to promote himself through spoken-word albums, and he even had the stones to ask the band for 25% of their earnings. Add a bit of sexual predation of the female devotees and the maharishi found himself the subject of an absolute character destruction in the form of "Sexy Sadie".

The album itself---hmmm, well the criticism that the double album has too much filler is a valid complaint. Many of the songs are substandard for the band, but I just don't think they cared. They didn't have to prove themselves anymore, and they were working more and more apart all the time. When they were in the studio, Yoko was always there, always interrupting sessions, not happy to just sit in the recording booth, and started giving her opinions as if she was a creative participant in the band. She "helped" Lennon with his songs, and then, as Harrison famously noted, "the rot set in".

After India, the Beatles grew ever more insular, wanting to work alone, keeping to themselves, valuing their privacy above any public considerations. Lennon and McCartney continued recording while Harrison & Starr went to America, and Lennon was working on "Revolution 9" alone. McCartney was perfecting "Blackbird" alone. And then Lennon & Harrison completed "Revolution 9" while McCartney was in America. The dynamic of the band was being redefined (falling apart?).

"Revolution 9" is the band's most unpopular track ever. McCartney and Starr were straight up pissed off about it, but Lennon's thoughts on it were that this was the music of the future, music without the necessity of instruments. As far as sound experimentation goes, however, this track is definitely the most relevant and enduring. It was influenced by two main sources, the first being social disturbances in England, the second being Yoko herself. Her art show displayed a new type of avant-garde, and Lennon, listening to her spoken word art, wanted to try something new. Naturally, Yoko helped make decisions on which tape loops to use. So what the hell is actually inside "Revolution 9"? About 100 fragments of classical music, opera, Lennon's voice, Yoko's voice, Harrison's voice, applause, gunfire, choir music, football fans, and of course a man saying "number nine". Lennon thought 9 was significant, it being not only in his address but also his birthday. Derp.

"Revolution 1" grew out of a jam session of "Revolution 9", wherein all kinds of weird ideas were fielded, like how random sounds can be used to make music, like how fun it would be to sample sound bytes from other previously-recorded sources. "Helter Skelter" was McCartney's response to a criticism saying he was capable of writing only soft ballads, so he tried to create as loud and dirty a sound as he could. I've read critics who maintain this is the first "heavy metal" song. Bollocks! It's an infamous song, though, considering how Charles Manson chose to interpret a song about a carnival ride, a song about the rise and fall of an empire. America's most notorious mass murderer believed "Helter Skelter" contained prophecies about a coming race war between blacks and whites.

Other notable tracks (for me) include "Mother Nature’s Son" (inspired by a maharishi lecture), "Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey" (John thought the other Beatles were paranoid about Yoko), "Honey Pie" (an homage to British music-hall style), "Savoy Truffle" (Harrison sniping Clapton for his love of sweets), and "Cry Baby Cry" (where George Martin plays harmonium).

My wife is a huge Stones fan … or, rather, there are, like three Stones albums she loves but she kinda shrugs at the rest. When I played this one for her yesterday, she didn’t make a single comment. I find that telling. My super conservative friend, however, loves the Stones and bangs on constantly about how cool Mick Jagger is. He loves most (all?) Stones albums, and I’ve even heard him talk about this one. He’s in the closet. I find that telling, too.

A truly terrible, talentless band.

Music for people who feel like androids, who seek salvation in airbags and rain, who cry themselves to sleep and awake, who are deluded enough to actually believe their existence and consciousness are nothing more than the sum of complex chemical reactions, who resolve again and again to get off their asses and make something of their lives yet never do. Never fear! Radiohead is hear to sing your woes for you, so that you don't have to think of some way to express yourself yourself. I'm just gonna hold myself and let Radiohead tell me how I feel about myself.

Take every undesirable yet attractive thing you read in a dime-store pulp novel and throw it into a pot stirred by an unshaven vagabond, and you get this bourbon-soaked album. Mad hatters and beat poets doing the polka on this postcard mailed from desolation row.

There’s a nice clash of the blues with jazz on this album, in a battle of the songwriters, as it were.

One of the greatest songs of all time is on this album. I'll let you guess what one I'm referring to.