After the beautifully unnerving intimacy of Plastic Ono Band, it’s easy to see why some were caught off guard or turned off by John’s approach to Imagine. The main difference is, of course, the grand production; members of the New York Philharmonic, dubbed The Flux Fiddlers for this album, contribute to six of its ten songs, and a couple of tracks emulate co-producer Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound technique.
The justification for the dynamic shift between albums seems quite simple to me, though: the songs are incredible, and every single arrangement sticks its landing. Take the sleazy “It’s So Hard” for example, one of the six songs the Fiddlers appear on. There is no logical way their bluesy interjections should work as well as they do, but alas, they sound totally appropriate and awesome. “How?” is one of John’s most impressive displays of insecurity, which is no small feat given his propensity to talk so openly about them throughout his career; the rhythm section of Klaus Voormann and Alan White deliver strong bass and drum performances, and the Fiddlers interestingly seem to hint at “The Long And Winding Road.”
This is especially fascinating given that the track is sequenced right after “How Do You Sleep?,” John’s infamous takedown of Paul McCartney in the initial aftermath of the Beatles’ breakup. To this day, it remains possibly the most compelling song in Lennon’s solo catalog, with listeners and fans still occasionally taking sides in the matter. Team John will point out that Paul appeared to take some of the first shots, both on Ram and otherwise in the press, and that none other than George Harrison was okay with performing slide guitar duties on the track. Team Paul will argue that no amount of ill will they felt towards each other at the time warranted the vitriol expelled in the lyrics, and that Ringo felt the need to tell John “that’s enough” upon hearing the song.
For better or worse, his handling of the song was both typical and genuine, and given that the relationship between the two only suffered greatly for a short period of time, it holds up today as an uncomfortable-but-spellbinding time capsule. The music sufficiently sneers as much as the lyrics, from Harrison’s solo to the Fiddlers’ dramatic ostinatos, and like the rest of the album, John’s vocals are perfect.
Speaking of perfection, this album also includes “Jealous Guy,” which for my money may be his greatest solo song. Every musical aspect is simply flawless, from Nicky Hopkins’ elegant piano to Klaus Voormann’s meticulously plucked bass to the wonderfully grand strings. I struggle to describe its greatness in ways that haven’t already been discussed, much like the record’s title track. Both songs are so miraculously and beautifully enduring, touching, and awe-inspiring. I can say the same for the stark “Oh My Love,” co-written with Yoko and featuring perfectly restrained guitar playing from George.
The two former bandmates also collaborate on two of John’s premier political statements, the deliciously reverb-drenched “I Don’t Wanna Be A Soldier Mama” and the lyrical powerhouse “Gimme Some Truth” (“No short-haired, yellow-bellied son of Tricky Dicky’s gonna Mother Hubbard soft-soap me with just a pocketful of hope/It’s money for dope, money for rope”). And I’ll be damned if “Oh Yoko!” isn’t a superb way to end the album. After two records’ worth of brilliantly blunt introspection, it is delightful to hear this upbeat celebration of love, complete with a divine piano performance from Hopkins and the last ever appearance of John’s harmonica on record, wonderfully recalling “I Should Have Known Better.”
There is an ongoing debate in my head whether I prefer this album over Plastic Ono Band, and I am convinced I will never truly be sure how I feel. On any given day, Imagine is my favorite solo Beatles record, let alone my favorite John Lennon album. Every single song has lasting merit, and sonically, it’s an absolute triumph and joy.
5/5
