We'll Live Till Monday, directed by Stanislav Rostotsky, is a 1968 Soviet film. Set in a Moscow school, it examines the relationships and tensions between staff and students in said establishment.
This is another one of those movies which just had to be produced in black-and-white, as the monochrome makes for a certain ascetic quality, as well as offering scope for some effective imagery and symbolism.
The central character in this drama is the history teacher Melnikov. He appears sour, careworn, abrupt and something of an outsider with his colleagues.
A notable feature of this film for me is the irreverence of some of the main players and their dialogue. It is good that we have the chance to see these films. They show a side of the USSR which some people cannot conceive of. The same dynamics, concerns and conflicts existed in Soviet institutions as they did in their Western equivalents. It may be that the school was intended as a microcosm of tensions and upheavals in wider Soviet society. People were striving for means of self-expression and autonomy, testing the boundaries perhaps.
It also occurred to me that the school portrayed here was less rigid and regimented than my own alma mater in England....
Throughout there are subtle commentaries and observations concerning Soviet educational and cultural matters, often delivered with some sarcasm or cynicism.
I liked the sets and the bleak-ish sense of realism in this picture, and in general there is a sense of refinement and elegance which truly appealed to me. No big portentous themes, just an intelligent and endearing piece of film-making, containing fine acting from many of those involved.
Perhaps the most intriguing quote from the film - "Happiness is to be understood"....
Showing posts with label 1968. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1968. Show all posts
Friday, 20 September 2019
Saturday, 18 March 2017
Night of the Living Dead (1968 movie)
One of the first modern "zombie" horror movies, Night Of The Living Dead, directed by George A. Romero, has proved highly influential, in part because of the public domain status of the original film, and its consequent wide availability.
It seems trite to say this, but the fact that it was in black and white helped to "make" the film, at a time when most movies were being made in colour. This consideration I think applies especially to the opening scenes, including the one in the cemetery. Their monochrome cloak helped set the unsettling and disconcerting tone.
Consciously or otherwise, the black and white harks back to the classic horror films of the past. In more than one sense, Night Of The Living Dead has a foot in both camps, embracing aspects of previous works, but also helping to form new templates for the genre.
As others have observed, that scene in the cemetery, where Barbra and her brother are visiting the grave of their father, is integral to the film's impact. There is little or nothing in the way of exposition or back-story at that stage - we are straight into the fear and terror.
Equally, the opening "titles" sequence, showing the car driving along a lonely road, is hugely affecting, accentuated by the creepy music. This eeriness is maintained throughout the piece.
The sparse and underplayed production values and dialogue also assist in building up the "believability" of the scenario and events. Slickness all too often compromises and sanitizes horror movies. The camera angles add to the realism and the sense of anxiety and disorientation.
The violence and "gore" are not as graphic or as gruesome as would become almost standard in later horror pictures, including those directly inspired by this one. More is left to the imagination, and it is more about mood, anticipation, psychology, metaphors and imagery. I wonder whether modern audiences might be slightly puzzled by the "slow" pace, and the relative lack of "action".
As for the acting, I think that both Judith O'Dea (Barbra) and Duane Jones (Ben) do a pretty good job. O'Dea makes her character's shock and vulnerability palpable. Some might question Barbra's behaviour after witnessing her brother's death, but I felt that a mixture of shock and the self-preservation instinct set in. Some of the other acting is less convincing, but it is better than some people may associate with this type of film.
Part of the impact of the picture is the concentration of most of the running time in an isolated farmhouse. This way, in addition to the claustrophobia, we get to see the interaction of a group of disparate people, with their differing temperaments and fear thresholds. We see the "unity" of the zombies set against the fractious and individualistic people in the house
It is tempting to read various interpretations into the dialogue and the characterizations, given that this was 1968. Was the gathering in the farmhouse a microcosm of wider society? It is fascinating to observe and analyze the examples of human nature - co-operation, egotism, necessity, pragmatism.
Having been tense and unsettling, the film becomes much more disturbing (and graphic) in its closing stages, and the symbolism (intentional or not) becomes more pronounced.
Night Of The Living Dead is very much worth a watch.
It seems trite to say this, but the fact that it was in black and white helped to "make" the film, at a time when most movies were being made in colour. This consideration I think applies especially to the opening scenes, including the one in the cemetery. Their monochrome cloak helped set the unsettling and disconcerting tone.
Consciously or otherwise, the black and white harks back to the classic horror films of the past. In more than one sense, Night Of The Living Dead has a foot in both camps, embracing aspects of previous works, but also helping to form new templates for the genre.
As others have observed, that scene in the cemetery, where Barbra and her brother are visiting the grave of their father, is integral to the film's impact. There is little or nothing in the way of exposition or back-story at that stage - we are straight into the fear and terror.
Equally, the opening "titles" sequence, showing the car driving along a lonely road, is hugely affecting, accentuated by the creepy music. This eeriness is maintained throughout the piece.
The sparse and underplayed production values and dialogue also assist in building up the "believability" of the scenario and events. Slickness all too often compromises and sanitizes horror movies. The camera angles add to the realism and the sense of anxiety and disorientation.
The violence and "gore" are not as graphic or as gruesome as would become almost standard in later horror pictures, including those directly inspired by this one. More is left to the imagination, and it is more about mood, anticipation, psychology, metaphors and imagery. I wonder whether modern audiences might be slightly puzzled by the "slow" pace, and the relative lack of "action".
As for the acting, I think that both Judith O'Dea (Barbra) and Duane Jones (Ben) do a pretty good job. O'Dea makes her character's shock and vulnerability palpable. Some might question Barbra's behaviour after witnessing her brother's death, but I felt that a mixture of shock and the self-preservation instinct set in. Some of the other acting is less convincing, but it is better than some people may associate with this type of film.
Part of the impact of the picture is the concentration of most of the running time in an isolated farmhouse. This way, in addition to the claustrophobia, we get to see the interaction of a group of disparate people, with their differing temperaments and fear thresholds. We see the "unity" of the zombies set against the fractious and individualistic people in the house
It is tempting to read various interpretations into the dialogue and the characterizations, given that this was 1968. Was the gathering in the farmhouse a microcosm of wider society? It is fascinating to observe and analyze the examples of human nature - co-operation, egotism, necessity, pragmatism.
Having been tense and unsettling, the film becomes much more disturbing (and graphic) in its closing stages, and the symbolism (intentional or not) becomes more pronounced.
Night Of The Living Dead is very much worth a watch.
Thursday, 12 May 2016
Neil Young's debut album (1968)
After a hiatus, I am back to listening to the music of Neil Young quite avidly. The authenticity and emotional depth of his work is impossible to ignore for too long. He is one of the most interesting singer/songwriters to study, because of his restless spirit and unpredictability.
Neil Young's debut album, self-titled and released in 1968, tends to be forgotten by the wider music world, in part because it contained comparatively few of his classic or best-known songs. I had even forgotten Ry Cooder's involvement with the record. Anyway, I recently revisited the Neil Young album in an effort to reappraise it.
The presence of two "superfluous" instrumental numbers, "The Emperor of Wyoming" and "String Quartet from Whiskey Boot Hill", I find a tad mystifying, especially for a singer-songwriter. While it helps to imbue Neil Young with a certain quirkiness, some might contend that it betrays a shortage of genuinely strong material to put on the record. Perhaps the nature of the track listing was an early indicator of the idiosyncratic and maverick path which the Canadian's solo career would follow?
The overall sound and character of some of the album carries echoes of Buffalo Springfield, which is hardly surprising. In fact, the tone feels more "Sixties" to me than "70s singer-songwriter".
The one song contained on the album which has endured to a significant degree is "The Loner". This memorable tune adds real gravitas, and makes the album better than it would otherwise have been. It is one of those dramatic, intriguing Young numbers with an impenetrable aura to it.
Another item in a vaguely similar vein to "The Loner" is "I've Been Waiting For You", which has its own mystique and atmosphere, and even exudes a touch of the psychedelic.
"The Old Laughing Lady" is another song of substance, and is redolent of some of Young's more ambitious and experimental excursions from his tenure with Buffalo Springfield. The influence of Jack Nitzsche is also discernible in the arrangement. Lyrically it would also seem to point the way forward for the songwriter.
One of the other noteworthy compositions to feature here is "Here We Are In The Years", which appears to address issues of "getting back to the country", ecological concerns, the alienating effects of modern life and the pursuit of a simpler, more pastoral existence, themes which were prevalent in much of the rock music being created in 1968. I hear a synthesizer too, which might sound incongruous, but actually works well, and this number has a vaguely "baroque" feel to it. A certain poignancy and dignity underpin the song, and it quietly qualifies as a minor classic, in my estimation.
The penultimate track, "I've Loved Her So Long", contains some of the hallmarks which would characterize Young's later work, and it is perfumed with zest, things happening. Although an unexceptional song, it is a rather captivating piece of music, with a pleasing presence.
The record closes with "The Last Trip to Tulsa", which anticipates some of the artist's "epic" efforts. The lingering Bob Dylan influence is detectable in the lyrics at least. The earthy nature of the acoustic guitar is a welcome relief - there is not enough of it on the album. Like with some other songs on the LP, though, it is somehow not fully satisfying, as if the artist had not yet found some secret ingredient which would elevate his music to a different plane, emotionally speaking.
The vocals on this record seem to lack authority, and the character and warmth, which we would grow to associate with Young, although this may have been attributable to the mix, or to a lack of confidence by the singer in his own voice.
Neil Young was clearly a formidable talent, and this had been demonstrated by his contributions to Buffalo Springfield. This record contains some glimpses of his potential, but for me it lacks a certain bite and conviction, qualities which were admittedly not slow in emerging on his second solo album. Here, though, things are strangely low-key and even hesitant. Not a false start, but equally not altogether convincing.
Should we be surprised at how this record turned out, though? 1968 was a transitional year, in the direction of rock music, and in the cultural and political outlook of Western youth. Some of the tension, anxiety and uncertainty of the time is undoubtedly reflected in these songs.
It is easy to forget, too, that this was his first solo effort. Previously, he had been part of bands. An unevenness is therefore not totally surprising, and it does merit attention as a period piece, and as the start of a wondrous journey. It is folly to try to look for a "pattern" in the man's career. As the world was to discover, Neil Young did not favour simple patterns or easy options, and this is one of the reasons why his body of work remains so important and absorbing.
Neil Young's debut album, self-titled and released in 1968, tends to be forgotten by the wider music world, in part because it contained comparatively few of his classic or best-known songs. I had even forgotten Ry Cooder's involvement with the record. Anyway, I recently revisited the Neil Young album in an effort to reappraise it.
The presence of two "superfluous" instrumental numbers, "The Emperor of Wyoming" and "String Quartet from Whiskey Boot Hill", I find a tad mystifying, especially for a singer-songwriter. While it helps to imbue Neil Young with a certain quirkiness, some might contend that it betrays a shortage of genuinely strong material to put on the record. Perhaps the nature of the track listing was an early indicator of the idiosyncratic and maverick path which the Canadian's solo career would follow?
The overall sound and character of some of the album carries echoes of Buffalo Springfield, which is hardly surprising. In fact, the tone feels more "Sixties" to me than "70s singer-songwriter".
The one song contained on the album which has endured to a significant degree is "The Loner". This memorable tune adds real gravitas, and makes the album better than it would otherwise have been. It is one of those dramatic, intriguing Young numbers with an impenetrable aura to it.
Another item in a vaguely similar vein to "The Loner" is "I've Been Waiting For You", which has its own mystique and atmosphere, and even exudes a touch of the psychedelic.
"The Old Laughing Lady" is another song of substance, and is redolent of some of Young's more ambitious and experimental excursions from his tenure with Buffalo Springfield. The influence of Jack Nitzsche is also discernible in the arrangement. Lyrically it would also seem to point the way forward for the songwriter.
One of the other noteworthy compositions to feature here is "Here We Are In The Years", which appears to address issues of "getting back to the country", ecological concerns, the alienating effects of modern life and the pursuit of a simpler, more pastoral existence, themes which were prevalent in much of the rock music being created in 1968. I hear a synthesizer too, which might sound incongruous, but actually works well, and this number has a vaguely "baroque" feel to it. A certain poignancy and dignity underpin the song, and it quietly qualifies as a minor classic, in my estimation.
The penultimate track, "I've Loved Her So Long", contains some of the hallmarks which would characterize Young's later work, and it is perfumed with zest, things happening. Although an unexceptional song, it is a rather captivating piece of music, with a pleasing presence.
The record closes with "The Last Trip to Tulsa", which anticipates some of the artist's "epic" efforts. The lingering Bob Dylan influence is detectable in the lyrics at least. The earthy nature of the acoustic guitar is a welcome relief - there is not enough of it on the album. Like with some other songs on the LP, though, it is somehow not fully satisfying, as if the artist had not yet found some secret ingredient which would elevate his music to a different plane, emotionally speaking.
The vocals on this record seem to lack authority, and the character and warmth, which we would grow to associate with Young, although this may have been attributable to the mix, or to a lack of confidence by the singer in his own voice.
Neil Young was clearly a formidable talent, and this had been demonstrated by his contributions to Buffalo Springfield. This record contains some glimpses of his potential, but for me it lacks a certain bite and conviction, qualities which were admittedly not slow in emerging on his second solo album. Here, though, things are strangely low-key and even hesitant. Not a false start, but equally not altogether convincing.
Should we be surprised at how this record turned out, though? 1968 was a transitional year, in the direction of rock music, and in the cultural and political outlook of Western youth. Some of the tension, anxiety and uncertainty of the time is undoubtedly reflected in these songs.
It is easy to forget, too, that this was his first solo effort. Previously, he had been part of bands. An unevenness is therefore not totally surprising, and it does merit attention as a period piece, and as the start of a wondrous journey. It is folly to try to look for a "pattern" in the man's career. As the world was to discover, Neil Young did not favour simple patterns or easy options, and this is one of the reasons why his body of work remains so important and absorbing.
Sunday, 28 June 2015
In Search Of The Lost Chord - The Moody Blues - album review
It is fair to say that some of the albums from the psychedelic era have not aged well. However, one of the musical artefacts from that time which warrants attention is the the 1968 record "In Search Of The Lost Chord" by The Moody Blues. In some ways, it is the quintessential psychedelic album, and one is left marveling at how far these guys had traveled from their early days as a cuddly "British Invasion" combo.
The main reason why it stands out from many of its contemporaries is the way in which it encompasses both the whimsical "childlike" flavour of British psychedelia and the more "philosophical" school of the genre which existed on the West Coast of America. In addition, there is some truly beautiful, haunting and affecting music on the record...
Yes, this album does sound "dated", in its production values and to some degree the subject matter, but these are no bad things to my ears. It is an absorbing listening experience, a feast for the senses. After the opening vignette "Departure" comes "Ride My See-Saw", arguably the most famous song on the record. With a driving and energetic core, and its grandiose and dramatic production, this number ideally and compactly sets up the fare which follows.
"Dr. Livingstone, I Presume" is a kind of hybrid song, incorporating two persuasions of psychedelic rock, with its cute verses and more "profound" choruses, both of which essentially explore the same themes. Ray Thomas' lead vocal is most endearing and likeable.As the title of the LP implies, much of the material concerns broad issues of spiritual and personal exploration and development.
Next comes "House Of Four Doors". Musically complex, and featuring some great "door" sound effects. The nice flourishes on mellotron, harpsichord and flute add vital texture, and the chorus vocals are beautiful if decidedly "sixties". This track, and its shorter "reprise" could be said to constitute the heart of "In Search Of The Lost Chord".
"Legend Of A Mind", a paean to Timothy Leary, is also an important building block in making this album so good, and also serves as a reminder of the importance and input of Ray Thomas to the project. He wrote this song, sang the lead vocals, and performed the haunting flute solo.
Another of the album's best known compositions, "Voices In The Sky", although a good tune, feels a touch lightweight in the context of some of the other items. "The Best Way To Travel" sounds more like other British psychedelia which was around in 1967/68.
The piece de resistance of the album in my opinion is the beguiling "Visions Of Paradise". Melodically seductive, and drenched in the luxuriant flute of Ray Thomas, it is a simple but effective song which for me epitomizes the appeal of the record as a whole. The sitar is a pleasant touch too. A song to lose oneself in....
"The Actor" has some similar virtues and qualities to the song which precedes it, if in less "esoteric" clothing. Some expressive and evocative singing by Justin Hayward, and containing the same order of instrumental finesse which pervades much of the album.
After another brief interlude, "The Word", we find the closing number "Om". An Indian-influenced piece, and dare I say it, much more appealing and convincing than similar things released by certain other British groups of the period. The vocal harmonies are sumptuous, and the "exotic" instruments are employed here again with considerable aplomb.
"In Search Of The Lost Chord" is an enjoyable and absorbing album to listen to. Even people who are not particular fans of The Moody Blues or the psychedelic/progressive music of the era should find it enjoyable, because it is a beautiful and coherent artistic statement, possessing real impact and charm.
The main reason why it stands out from many of its contemporaries is the way in which it encompasses both the whimsical "childlike" flavour of British psychedelia and the more "philosophical" school of the genre which existed on the West Coast of America. In addition, there is some truly beautiful, haunting and affecting music on the record...
Yes, this album does sound "dated", in its production values and to some degree the subject matter, but these are no bad things to my ears. It is an absorbing listening experience, a feast for the senses. After the opening vignette "Departure" comes "Ride My See-Saw", arguably the most famous song on the record. With a driving and energetic core, and its grandiose and dramatic production, this number ideally and compactly sets up the fare which follows.
"Dr. Livingstone, I Presume" is a kind of hybrid song, incorporating two persuasions of psychedelic rock, with its cute verses and more "profound" choruses, both of which essentially explore the same themes. Ray Thomas' lead vocal is most endearing and likeable.As the title of the LP implies, much of the material concerns broad issues of spiritual and personal exploration and development.
Next comes "House Of Four Doors". Musically complex, and featuring some great "door" sound effects. The nice flourishes on mellotron, harpsichord and flute add vital texture, and the chorus vocals are beautiful if decidedly "sixties". This track, and its shorter "reprise" could be said to constitute the heart of "In Search Of The Lost Chord".
"Legend Of A Mind", a paean to Timothy Leary, is also an important building block in making this album so good, and also serves as a reminder of the importance and input of Ray Thomas to the project. He wrote this song, sang the lead vocals, and performed the haunting flute solo.
Another of the album's best known compositions, "Voices In The Sky", although a good tune, feels a touch lightweight in the context of some of the other items. "The Best Way To Travel" sounds more like other British psychedelia which was around in 1967/68.
The piece de resistance of the album in my opinion is the beguiling "Visions Of Paradise". Melodically seductive, and drenched in the luxuriant flute of Ray Thomas, it is a simple but effective song which for me epitomizes the appeal of the record as a whole. The sitar is a pleasant touch too. A song to lose oneself in....
"The Actor" has some similar virtues and qualities to the song which precedes it, if in less "esoteric" clothing. Some expressive and evocative singing by Justin Hayward, and containing the same order of instrumental finesse which pervades much of the album.
After another brief interlude, "The Word", we find the closing number "Om". An Indian-influenced piece, and dare I say it, much more appealing and convincing than similar things released by certain other British groups of the period. The vocal harmonies are sumptuous, and the "exotic" instruments are employed here again with considerable aplomb.
"In Search Of The Lost Chord" is an enjoyable and absorbing album to listen to. Even people who are not particular fans of The Moody Blues or the psychedelic/progressive music of the era should find it enjoyable, because it is a beautiful and coherent artistic statement, possessing real impact and charm.
Friday, 24 April 2015
Beggars Banquet - The Rolling Stones - album review
One or two critics have asserted that Beggars Banquet, released by The Rolling Stones in 1968, is the greatest album of the Sixties. I might not go that far myself, but it is certainly a wonderful album, and one which helped to usher in the band's most creative and turbulent period.
The group, clearly ill-at-ease during the psychedelic era, appeared to be much more at home in 1968's changing cultural and social climate. They were also more comfortable performing rootsier music, and these sounds somehow more closely reflected and complemented the uneasy or revolutionary sentiments which were supposedly prevalent in '68.
Beggars Banquet also witnessed a solidifying of the Jagger-Richards axis, as their songwriting became ever more prolific and and focused, and Brian Jones' influence gradually diminished. Did the image of Keith Richards as the "heart and soul" of the Stones arise from necessity, as he was obliged to perform many of the functions previously undertaken by Jones?
In the past, I have tended to view some of the songs on this record as trite or lacking in cultural finesse, trying a little too hard to reflect the tenor of the times. However, after repeated scrutiny I would say that surprisingly little of it sounds corny or misjudged nowadays. I wasn't around in 1968, so I can't comment on how it might have sounded in the context of what was "going on" in those days. The Beatles did seem to evoke the uncertainty and edginess of the time more acutely on "The White Album", with a minimum of effort and the conspicuous absence of any soap-box, but then again popular perception would have expected the Stones to put out a more overtly "angry" and visceral commentary.
The sound and production have a distinctly earthy flavour to them, redolent of honest toil, and therefore in keeping with the ethos which may or may not have been underpinning the project. Whether this was a conscious effort is difficult to say; what is certain is that the album would not have had the same gravitas and vigour had it been given a smoother and more polished sheen. The guitars (both electric and acoustic) sound splendid throughout.
As opening tracks go, "Sympathy For The Devil" takes some beating, and does kind of set the tone, both musically and atmospherically. The Stones had hinted at such "menace" in the past, but here was its most vibrant and stark manifestation. Opinions may vary as to precisely what Mick and Keith were getting at here, but none can deny that it captures the essence of the album and the popular image of 1968.
If "Sympathy For The Devil" is seen as being a standard-bearer for the spirit of Beggars Banquet, then tracks such as "No Expectations" and "Dear Doctor" are its DNA, with their acoustic bluesy rawness. The former features one of Brian Jones' last notable musical contributions as a member of the Rolling Stones, in the form of his haunting slide guitar part. The rendition of "Prodigal Son" is in a similar vein.
Of course, another song which attracted, and continues to attract, much attention is "Street Fighting Man", with its nicely ambivalent lyrical outlook and its blistering acoustic guitars. What it perhaps lacks in melodic subtlety it more than makes up for in power and robustness, and the instrumentation is pleasingly fuzzy.
I used to dismiss "Jigsaw Puzzle" as superior and stylish filler, but over time it has grown on me. The lyrics sound less and less like a poor man's Bob Dylan the more I listen to them, and the melody is deceptively vibrant and clever. Some more good slide guitar here, and nice separation between the instruments ensures that the rhythm section and the piano can be appreciated with some clarity.
Some people might dismiss "Stray Cat Blues" as a mere prototype for future Stones endeavours, or even "Stones by numbers", but in my view it is one of their finest and most formidable album tracks. Many elements coalesce to make it memorable, including the riffs and feline guitar lines, Charlie Watts' muscular drumming, and Jagger's lascivious vocal delivery.
The set is concluded with the two most obviously "blue collar" and "proletarian" items, "Factory Girl" and "Salt Of The Earth". "Factory Girl" is a rather charming and unpretentious number. The song which follows it is musically strong, although the "anthemic" choruses can be grating, and the excessive second half of the song rather spoils the effect for me . Very much "of its time", and it is therefore churlish to be too harsh forty-seven years later.
I would say that Beggars Banquet ranks very high for me as far as Stones albums are concerned, second only to Exile On Main Street I would say. There is very much a demarcation between what was recorded in 1968 (we should include the single "Jumping Jack Flash" in such deliberations) and what had gone before. This record is not as immediately enjoyable or accessible as Sticky Fingers, Some Girls or even Let It Bleed, and it might seem like hard work to begin with, but soon enough its abrasive self-confidence becomes evident. Essential to an understanding of the Stones and the evolution of their music.
The group, clearly ill-at-ease during the psychedelic era, appeared to be much more at home in 1968's changing cultural and social climate. They were also more comfortable performing rootsier music, and these sounds somehow more closely reflected and complemented the uneasy or revolutionary sentiments which were supposedly prevalent in '68.
Beggars Banquet also witnessed a solidifying of the Jagger-Richards axis, as their songwriting became ever more prolific and and focused, and Brian Jones' influence gradually diminished. Did the image of Keith Richards as the "heart and soul" of the Stones arise from necessity, as he was obliged to perform many of the functions previously undertaken by Jones?
In the past, I have tended to view some of the songs on this record as trite or lacking in cultural finesse, trying a little too hard to reflect the tenor of the times. However, after repeated scrutiny I would say that surprisingly little of it sounds corny or misjudged nowadays. I wasn't around in 1968, so I can't comment on how it might have sounded in the context of what was "going on" in those days. The Beatles did seem to evoke the uncertainty and edginess of the time more acutely on "The White Album", with a minimum of effort and the conspicuous absence of any soap-box, but then again popular perception would have expected the Stones to put out a more overtly "angry" and visceral commentary.
The sound and production have a distinctly earthy flavour to them, redolent of honest toil, and therefore in keeping with the ethos which may or may not have been underpinning the project. Whether this was a conscious effort is difficult to say; what is certain is that the album would not have had the same gravitas and vigour had it been given a smoother and more polished sheen. The guitars (both electric and acoustic) sound splendid throughout.
As opening tracks go, "Sympathy For The Devil" takes some beating, and does kind of set the tone, both musically and atmospherically. The Stones had hinted at such "menace" in the past, but here was its most vibrant and stark manifestation. Opinions may vary as to precisely what Mick and Keith were getting at here, but none can deny that it captures the essence of the album and the popular image of 1968.
If "Sympathy For The Devil" is seen as being a standard-bearer for the spirit of Beggars Banquet, then tracks such as "No Expectations" and "Dear Doctor" are its DNA, with their acoustic bluesy rawness. The former features one of Brian Jones' last notable musical contributions as a member of the Rolling Stones, in the form of his haunting slide guitar part. The rendition of "Prodigal Son" is in a similar vein.
Of course, another song which attracted, and continues to attract, much attention is "Street Fighting Man", with its nicely ambivalent lyrical outlook and its blistering acoustic guitars. What it perhaps lacks in melodic subtlety it more than makes up for in power and robustness, and the instrumentation is pleasingly fuzzy.
I used to dismiss "Jigsaw Puzzle" as superior and stylish filler, but over time it has grown on me. The lyrics sound less and less like a poor man's Bob Dylan the more I listen to them, and the melody is deceptively vibrant and clever. Some more good slide guitar here, and nice separation between the instruments ensures that the rhythm section and the piano can be appreciated with some clarity.
Some people might dismiss "Stray Cat Blues" as a mere prototype for future Stones endeavours, or even "Stones by numbers", but in my view it is one of their finest and most formidable album tracks. Many elements coalesce to make it memorable, including the riffs and feline guitar lines, Charlie Watts' muscular drumming, and Jagger's lascivious vocal delivery.
The set is concluded with the two most obviously "blue collar" and "proletarian" items, "Factory Girl" and "Salt Of The Earth". "Factory Girl" is a rather charming and unpretentious number. The song which follows it is musically strong, although the "anthemic" choruses can be grating, and the excessive second half of the song rather spoils the effect for me . Very much "of its time", and it is therefore churlish to be too harsh forty-seven years later.
I would say that Beggars Banquet ranks very high for me as far as Stones albums are concerned, second only to Exile On Main Street I would say. There is very much a demarcation between what was recorded in 1968 (we should include the single "Jumping Jack Flash" in such deliberations) and what had gone before. This record is not as immediately enjoyable or accessible as Sticky Fingers, Some Girls or even Let It Bleed, and it might seem like hard work to begin with, but soon enough its abrasive self-confidence becomes evident. Essential to an understanding of the Stones and the evolution of their music.
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