Revolution In The Head - The Beatles' Records and The Sixties - Ian MacDonald

The Beatles and their music have probably commanded more acres of print than any other pop-culture phenomenon in human history. However, if you are just looking for one book to condense the relevance, spirit and impact of their music, then Ian MacDonald's Revolution In The Head is the one to go for.

As well as exploring how the Beatles shaped, and were shaped by, the Sixties, this work analyses, song-by-song, the group's discography.  As a consequence, an enhanced and broadened understanding of the decade and The Beatles is imparted, even if this does not claim to be a "biography" as such.

The "Introduction" sets the scene, and it is forcefully but subtly argued, offering some observations and theories about the Sixties, the special qualities of The Beatles and, for example, how the differing styles of Lennon and McCartney came about. There is a detailed and perceptive look at 1967 and the counterculture, and how these phenomena were regarded by subsequent generations. Some might find these passages heavy going, but they are essential to the overall message of the book. For me, the most noteworthy thing to emerge was the notion that The Beatles and their peers were among the first to vigorously harness social and cultural shifts which were probably already in progress even before the Sixties dawned.

The "commentary" on the Beatles is hugely entertaining, engrossing and authoritative, packed with anecdotes and astute insight. The author's knowledge and understanding give the articles a real fluency, and in citing influences for songs, he doesn't always give the "obvious" reference points, so the reader's grasp of Sixties pop will be widened. Lesser-known figures and records are brought in from the historical cold.

It is worth pointing out that the author does not pretend that everything the Beatles recorded was beyond reproach. He speaks out when he feels that something is weak and mediocre, or when a lapse in taste has occurred. Some of his opinions on certain tracks may even be uncomfortable reading for long-term fans (for example, "All You Need Is Love", "Nowhere Man", "Across The Universe"). He also highlights examples where The Beatles were following musical fashions instigated by others, and stages where others had stolen a march on them.

Having read quite a bit about The Beatles over the past couple of decades, it seems to me that it is "fashionable" to deride certain songs, or to excessively laud others. MacDonald advances cogent and carefully argued reasons for his views, aided by his trained and perceptive ears, and this challenges us to be intellectually honest, even with hitherto cherished songs, and this has to be a healthy development.

One of the real delights of Revolution In The Head is the resourcefulness with which MacDonald brings out the nuances in the music, coupled with his keen sense of when The Beatles exhibited that intangible magic which often placed them in the vanguard of things.  He goes well beyond the superficial and the elementary in explaining the and interpreting the meanings and motivations behind the music.

Also, the book is admirably compact and concise, and even though the subject matter is very ambitious in places, the words are usually proportionate. It doesn't pretend that everything was wondrous and epoch-making. It gives a summation, and moves on.  In short, this book is immensely readable and vibrant....

Through the studies of the Beatles' records, we are also able to trace the development of the members, in terms of artistic influences and social outlook. This is most clearly discernible to me in the cases of John Lennon and George Harrison. In addition, the evolution of the "pecking order" within the band is a sub-plot, often related to the waxing and waning in the relative creative vigour of Lennon and McCartney.

As the songs are tackled in the chronological order of the commencement of their recording, we are also able to see the maturing in the songwriting, and the increasing willingness to experiment in the studio. One is also struck by how The Beatles maintained their musical standards, despite being faced with what seems to modern sensibilities to have been an absurdly hectic and gruelling schedule, often recording multiple tracks in a single day. The spur of competition in the creative process is also illustrated, both within the group itself and with their peers on both sides of the Atlantic.

Perhaps the most compelling sections of this book are those which deal with the period when Swinging London was at its height. The feverish energy and excitement of those times is palpable, and one can gain a real feel for the bubbling inventiveness, the exchange of ideas and the sunny optimism.

You possibly won't agree with everything which the author says, but the quality of the writing and the scholarship here wins the day, blending erudition with enthusiasm.  This book will enrich your understanding of the Beatles and that era, and it will also enrich your life.

Easy Rider - movie review

I recently watched "Easy Rider", the classic 1969 road movie, starring Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson.

In the past, I had tended to see this film as one of those whose reputation and status was out of proportion to its genuine artistic merit. However, it now strikes me that this in itself has become a stereotyped and spurious attitude.  Consequently, some dispassionate and detached scrutiny was in order...

Essentially, the picture follows the Fonda and Hopper characters as they travel through the American Southwest and South by motorbike. Along the way they encounter various people and different elements of society. In part it is an examination of the Sixties counter-culture, contemporary social tensions, and of popular attitudes towards those things.

One of the things which one first notices is the sumptuous nature of the visuals, a feature of "Easy Rider" which is regularly overlooked. This is complemented by the sparsity and economy of the dialogue. Imagery and symbolism, and the necessity for the viewer to spot and decipher them, form a minor but significant part of the film, if not an overpowering one . An example occurs early on in the piece when Peter Fonda discards his watch on the edge of the desert. Is this some kind of "existential" gesture, or does it signify a more general renunciation of mainstream values?  You decide!  Or alternatively, just sit back, relax and enjoy the movie....

Some modern observers might laugh or snipe at the "arty" editing which occasionally makes an appearance but, making allowances for the fact that this was the late 1960s, it is not too intrusive or egregious. The same could be said for the "freak-out" sequences near to the conclusion of the movie. The occasional diversion into a "homemade", documentary style of film-making offers a counterpoint to the grandeur of the visuals.

Some of the interaction of the two main characters with people they meet on their odyssey is fascinating, although it is easy to read too much into these sections, from a "philosophical" viewpoint. In one of the earlier scenes they stop and speak to some farmers/ranchers, who would perhaps be regarded as "conservative" in their outlook, but if anything the two bikers appear more comfortable in their company than they do when meeting other members of the so-called "counter culture". Non-conformists, outcasts and individualists occur in many forms, and they often find common ground which does not accord with societal categorization, expectations or pigeon-holing.  This is all in keeping with a sense that "Easy Rider" does not necessarily portray its times precisely in the way in which we are conditioned to assume that it does.

The above theme is developed further when Fonda and Hopper visit a "hippie commune". Rightly or wrongly, I got the impression that Wyatt/Captain America (the Fonda character) was too ready and willing to embrace some "romantic" or idealistic notion of communal living, Outwardly Billy (Hopper) seemed the more "alternative" figure, but was much more cynical and wary of the hippies,and the practicality of their way of life, than his travelling companion. Taken like this, it can be seen that the film offers quite a nuanced view of the subject.  The counter-culture was a multi-faceted phenomenon, and its various constituent elements were not always compatible with each other.

Needless to say, the appearance of Jack Nicholson is a highlight of "Easy Rider", although his character does not occupy as much of the running time as people sometimes imagine. Hanson is an intriguing character. It is tempting to see him in part as a semi-caricature of the "trendy" lawyers who, we are told, were commonplace during those times, but even this would be an over-simplification.

Whilst the scene in the cafeteria is disturbing, it also offers some insight;the local girls attracted by the strangers, the males contemptuous and vitriolic. The "discussions" by the campfire are also open to several different interpretation, furthering the ambiguous nature of the general "narrative". Was Hanson furnishing his new friends with a broadened perspective, and were they taking him seriously?

Some might venture the opinion that the movie ends on an excessively downbeat and sobering note, but when one considers that this picture was made in 1969, it was hardly likely to finish with everyone walking happily off into the sunset. Having said that, seeing the violent ending simply as a metaphor for "the end of the 60s dream" is far too trite an option to adopt.

Of course, the wonderful music soundtrack is one of the most compelling and memorable aspects of "Easy Rider", with songs by the likes of The Byrds, Jimi Hendrix, The Band and Steppenwolf featuring, usually in the "road" sequences which link together the stops along the route. A note too about the motorcycles, which are fabulous, especially the one ridden by Peter Fonda....

I think that "Easy Rider" succeeds and endures largely because it is a coherent and plausible document. It does not ostentatiously seek to be clever or portentous, and it doesn't try too hard, unlike other cinematic works of its type and era. It has aged surprisingly well, to these eyes and ears at least.

Five Leaves Left - Nick Drake (1969) - album review

The body of work released by Nick Drake during his lifetime, consisting of three studio albums, is intriguing for so many reasons, not least in that each record has its own distinctive character .  In view of these differences, it is a little awkward to single out "favourites" as such, but I will admit that Five Leaves Left, his 1969 debut release, is the one which I return to most frequently.

There is a stripped down tenor to much of the album, with pleasant and tasteful instrumental and melodic flourishes. It possesses a deceptive depth, whilst also retaining an earthy and uncomplicated quality . The opening number, "Time Has Told Me"  has a simplicity of melody, and lyrical sentiments which are profound but universal, a hallmark of the artist's work. Richard Thompson supplies some nice embellishments on electric guitar.

Drake's voice is to me very natural and comforting, if unusual. Expressive if not exactly mournful, sturdily fragile, and well suited to this genre of music, to the nature of the material being performed. The essence of his acoustic guitar technique is very well captured throughout the record. .

"River Man" is a highly evocative and haunting piece, and the singer's voice is used to good effect to accentuate these traits, almost as a separate instrument in itself. This is one of those tracks which employs strings, and they are judiciously used, although they are a feature of the Drake palette which, I find, occasionally divides opinion in some minds.

"Three Hours" is next, and is another instance of different instruments being utilized to add subtle texture;in this case the double bass and the congas.  Drake's guitar style is nicely showcased on this number, too.  This song is quite lengthy, clocking in at over six minutes, but that is no bad thing. More of a genuine mood piece than what surrounds it?

"Way to Blue" adds some variety, the intense strings evoking a "baroque pop" ambience. People who approach Nick Drake's music anew are often surprised to find things like this in his repertoire, having been led to expect more traditional "singer-songwriter" fare.

"Day Is Done" is the shortest item on the listing, in terms of duration, but for me it is the most impactful and emotionally resonant song on the whole record. More delicate guitar is here, and the tune is richly melodic . A day as a metaphor for life as a whole, or an examination of life as a ongoing cycle?

I am not sure whether "Thoughts of Mary Jane" is about what we are led to expect it to be by the title. I guess that one's interpretation of lyrics can be stretched to accommodate anything. In any event, the recorder part (?) is a clever and enticing addition, and the lyrics are suitably enigmatic and poetic, and the overall effect is quite ethereal.

"Man In A Shed" is on the surface an odd song, whimsical even. I find it amusing, although on closer inspection its themes are not altogether different from the other songs featured here. The sprightly and dextrous piano playing adds much to the mixture, and the melody swings rather nicely.

"Fruit Tree" is for many listeners perhaps the quintessential Nick Drake song, both sonically, and lyrically. The poignancy of the melody and the imagery contained in the words complement each other beautifully. "Saturday Sun" is the perfect closer to the set. The vibraphone could have been incongruous, but in practice it is absolutely ideal. An inspired addition, in keeping with the apparent trend on this album for instruments to be selected on a "horses for courses" basis, according to how they could convey or augment a mood or an atmosphere.

In many places this LP is low-key in tone, almost apologetic, but that is a large part of its charm and quality.  It pleads with the listener to pay attention to the lyrics. When taken on these terms, it is a cerebral, exploratory experience. The subsequent Nick Drake albums are more experimental and even more diverse, but they do not quite embody his vision with the clarity which is found on Five Leaves Left.

Island - Aldous Huxley - book review

I recently read Aldous Huxley's 1962 novel Island, which is often seen as the utopian counterpart to Brave New World. 

This was the first time that I had read any of Huxley's work seriously. I chose Island because the philosophies which seemed to underpin it appealed to me;it is a "novel of ideas", and the ideas propounded here increasingly accord with my own inclinations.

In short, the plot revolves around an English journalist, Will Farnaby, who is shipwrecked on the island of Pala. He is working on behalf of an oil baron. Farnaby is exposed to the way of life on Pala, all of this against the backdrop of negotiations over oil concessions in the region, and with the spectre of invasion by an adjacent, less enlightened, island looming.

Pala is a community which seeks to achieve a fusion of the most enlightened ideas from both Europe and the Orient (the best of both worlds?), standing in contrast to the relentless advance of industrialization, consumerism, tyranny and mass communication in the outside world.

Despite my admiration for the ideals and values which the Palanese espouse, one is left with a feeling of regret and sadness early on in the piece, because of the inevitability of this utopia being trampled on by darker forces, which are intent on bringing the island in line with the misery and injustice being inflicted elsewhere.

To me, there was a real poignancy in reading this story, knowing that noble projects such as that in Pala will find themselves crushed, and dreary and oppressive conformity will be (forcibly) imposed. I say this even allowing for the customary charge that such utopian thinking is naive and "impractical". The feeling of helplessness and resignation is acute . Perhaps the world needs a new "age of enlightenment" - although that would probably be crushed, too....

I had expected Island to contain some criticism of organised Western religion, but was surprised at the vehemence of that criticism. There is much emphasis on Eastern philosophy in the Pala mix. The concepts of "oneness", awareness, mindfulness and so forth are a constant theme here.  

There is I think a case for saying that Huxley was slightly ahead of his time in tackling matters like globalization, ecology and corporatism in such a way. He also makes some prescient observations about the fate of the ex-colonies in the developing world. The Palanese attitude to science and technology is also distinctive - seeking to make it work for the benefit of human freedom and happiness, rather than allowing people to become its prisoners.

A recurring message which I absorbed from this novel was the manner in which fear and insecurity are the main tools by which malign and repressive forces are introduced and embedded in society. Exploiting weaknesses and vices as opposed to harnessing virtues. Cynical, but regrettably highly effective.

Some of the more intriguing aspects of the Palanese vision are the social policies, which differ radically from those seen in the West, especially those concerning population, birth control and the family unit. Considerable space is also allocated to the educational practices and medical procedures designed to minimize and diminish tyrannical and autocratic tendencies in the citizens.

The Will Farnaby character was a little enigmatic to me, although I found his occasionally cynical and sarcastic comments quite endearing. These remarks sometimes made it tricky to discern his true attitudes to what he was absorbing and observing as he spent time in Pala.

As a novel, Island is awkward to appraise, in the conventional sense, but the expounding of ideas is most stimulating. There was less "action" in the narrative than I had anticipated, with the majority of the text taken up by Farnaby's discussions with various Palanese people about how things worked on the island. The geo-political manoeuvrings were more of a backdrop than a centerpiece for the most part. The ending is predictably downbeat and sobering.

As a "novel of ideas", this book is well worth a read.

Put Me Back On My Bike-In Search Of Tom Simpson - William Fotheringham

A book which has won many plaudits is "Put Me Back On My Bike", William Fotheringham's biography of the British cyclist Tom Simpson, who died during the 1967 Tour de France. I recently read the book myself.

I had enjoyed Fotheringham's biography of Eddy Merckx, and found this one even more compelling. As well as chronicling his life and achievements, it examines the tragic circumstances of his death and his legacy for British and world cycling.

In the past, I had rather shied away from fully exploring the Simpson story, mainly I suppose because of its tragic end and unsettling elements. It is a tale with many old-school elements, but also starkly pertinent for modern eyes and eyes. 

What emerged most of all for me, over and above the well-documented episodes, is Simpson's complex and quirky personality. He appears to have presaged characteristics which we associate with modern sportspeople, but there were endearing traits and contradictions. I found myself warming to the man, even allowing for his flaws.  Aren't we all flawed in some way?  The Tom Simpson who is portayed here is much different from the one who, in my ignorance, I had sometimes imagined. His interest in money, the mild English eccentricity and the mischievous side. The one area which I expected more to be made of was the notion of the "working class boy made good", but it seems that this was only a part the story

It could even be said that he was a visionary in the context of the British scene, having his eyes on the Continental arena from an early stage, and in his renunciation of the insularity and backwardness of the domestic landscape. His approach to training and preparation is also covered in detail here, from his focus on diet to his constant striving for any minute technical or tactical advantage, his hunger for knowledge and information, and how he was prepared to stretch himself and his physical limits.

The testimony and anecdotes, together with the documentary sources, are part of what makes this book work for me, giving it real substance and authority. The recollections of those closely associated with Simpson all go towards composing a vivid picture of the man and his life. The human nitty-gritty is uncovered, not just the dry facts about races won or lost. Some of the stories are funny, others are unsettling or poignant. The author also visits some of the locations central to the tale, augmenting the tapestry.  The book is compact and to-the-point, but the level of detail and insight is impressive.

In relating the Tom Simpson story, Fotheringham also evokes the atmosphere of cycling, and to a lesser degree, European society in the Sixties. Whilst the vibrancy and cosmopolitanism are celebrated,  I sensed his unease about the organisation and financial structures of the professional sport in that era, which often placed the competitors in an invidious position. We also gain a taste of how Simpson was in some respects a man of his time, when sports and the world in general were going through a transitional phase. There are some touching and intriguing passages about the "expatriate" cycling community in Belgium, and how Flanders welcomed and embraced the young Brits who went there to pursue their dreams.

The last third or so of "Put Me Back On My Bike" necessarily assumes a darker tone, as the factors contributing to Tom's death are addressed, as is the issue of drug use in cycling, and how the peloton and the powers-that-be viewed it. Needless to say, these chapters contain much less in the way of levity and lightheartedness than the earlier parts of the work. It seems to me that the standard line that "everybody was doing it" is only accepted by the author up to a point, and he elaborates on the reasons for this.

All in all, I found this book to be an engrossing and informative read. It is well put together, powerful in places, and candid. Highly recommended.

Merckx : Half Man, Half Bike - William Fotheringham

For some time, I have been fascinated by the great Belgian cyclist Eddy Merckx.  He was one of the world's pre-eminent athletes during the early years of my childhood, and for years afterwards his name was synonymous with the sport of cycling. Fortunately, the world has been quite well served in recent times with books about the great man. I had already read Daniel Friebe's biography, and more recently came across William Fotheringham's book "Merckx;Half Man, Half Bike".

My interest in Merckx was only deepened when I learned more about his approach to his sport, and how he was perceived by his contemporaries. It is probably true to say that he remains something of an enigma.

The thing which stands above all in this relating of the Merckx story is the sheer workload which he took on year after year, There was little picking or choosing of events, by him or his peers, and no concentration on a few select races, as would become the norm in the 1990s.

Fotheringham gives due prominence to the cyclist's upbringing, and how the influence of both of his parents impacted on his temperament and his outlook on life and racing. It is also interesting to note that Merckx came from a slightly different social and cultural background to many of his rivals. This painted him as an outsider, but also has been cited as enabling him to have more universal, less parochial appeal. Of course, how "The Cannibal" sat within the linguistic and cultural make-up of Belgium, and Belgian cycling, is a theme which recurs throughout this work.

One of the things which interests me most about Merckx is how he shunned and broke down many of the cosy conventions and assumptions which prevailed in cycling when he arrived on the scene. This antagonized some, but drew acclaim from others for the way in which it shook up the status quo. It is noted here that his riding style drew ire from some purists, but he won over some sections of the press and public because of the intensity and courage of his modus operandi.

I think that Fotheringham scores highly because he continuously delves into the mind of Merckx, to see what made him tick, how insecurity and a fear of failure, as well a colossal work ethic, drove him on. He was constantly challenging himself, finding out what he was capable of, rather than just doing the minimum necessary to win. These imperatives, coupled with immense natural physical gifts, make a select few sportspeople very special. The author documents how Merckx's methods evolved and were refined throughout his career, from junior days, to the amateur ranks, through to his peak years as a professional, and to the period of decline. The author also draws on his knowledge of the finer technical, as well as tactical, points of cycling.

This book seeks to address some of the mythology which has built up around elements of Eddy's career, including the assertion that he lacked genuine opposition. These themes are explored in a nuanced and balanced way, and I was left with a much enhanced understanding of the Merckx phenomenon.

A Man On The Moon - Andrew Chaikin - book review

By the time I was old enough to appreciate some of the finer points, it seemed that the main excitement of the Space Age was over. On closer reflection, this is a superficial and simplistic view to adopt, but by the same token I wish that I had been old enough to take in the full magnitude and importance of the events in the late 60s and early 70s, by which I mean the moon landings. A highly intriguing and absorbing take on that era is provided by Andrew Chaikin's superb book, "A Man On The Moon - The Voyages Of The Apollo Astronauts", originally published in 1994.

Chaikin relates the story largely from the point of view of the Apollo astronauts themselves;their aspirations, their motivations, their fears, their varied, often tortuous paths towards their goals, and their diverse personalities. There is much emphasis on some of those who are perhaps less prominent in the mainstream public imagination. The book manages to combine a chronicle of the human elements of the Apollo program with a look at the scientific dimensions, the latter looming larger in the second half.

The author also eschews a dry chronology of the era, with the less heralded episodes garnering just as much attention as the "marquee" missions and events. The most noteworthy and fascinating parts of the enterprise were not necessarily those which were most widely publicized and documented. So, for example, some bits of the iconic Apollo 11 mission are left out, and more exhaustive analysis given to notable aspects of the other missions.

I particularly relished the passages which sought to explain and rationalize why certain astronauts were selected for missions, whilst some eminently qualified men seemed to be passed by. As the program flourished and grew in scope and scale, it was quite easy it seems to be supplanted or overtaken by talented, ambitious and determined newcomers, and to become "yesterday's man". Also, it was often a case of being in the right place at the right time. In relation to these matters, there is some focus on the relations and tensions between the different generations of astronauts, and the differing ways in which chemistry developed among the various crews.

It is also striking how all-encompassing and demanding an astronaut's remit and job description were. As well as training and planning, there were innumerable other demands on their time and energies;liaising with contractors and research institutions, as well as ambassadorial and public relations duties. Indeed, the facet of the astronaut make-up which most stood out for me in this book was the sheer capacity for hard work, diligence and concentration which they needed to possess, not to mention the requisite amalgam of experience, expertise and qualifications.

The accounts of the lunar expeditions are beautifully executed, conveying the onerous nature of the objectives,the meticulous preparations undertaken for each task, but also the often humbling impact of exploring another world. I found the story of Apollo 8 especially absorbing. There is lots of humour and "human interest" material in there too.

One of the most illuminating avenues which Chaikin goes down is the exploration of what made each individual astronaut tick - their perspectives on their experiences and the dangers, and how visiting the moon affected their lives and their outlook on the world. These thoughts are often brought out in the mini-biographies, which detail their backgrounds and their struggles and successes. Some overcame adversity to achieve cherished goals, others were left unfulfilled, while others fell by the wayside. These stories serve as a reminder that beneath the heroic, superhuman veneer, these people were human beings, with many of the attendant insecurities and weaknesses.

The "popular" version of the moon program which is sometimes heard is that the initiative became somehow devalued as it went on. Here, Chaikin persuasively illustrates that this was not the case, demonstrating that a focus on scientific discovery (geology, in particular) was at the heart of the final two or three trips to the moon. More substance was seemingly acquired towards the close of the Apollo epoch, because of lessons learned and experience and information gained on previous trips. To back up these assertions, the author goes into some depth about the geological dimension of the final lunar explorations in 1971-72.

"A Man On The Moon" evokes a time when little appeared beyond the reach of mankind. It also delves beyond popular legend and gets us inside the minds and souls of some of those who helped to push the boundaries and limits. A riveting read.

In Defence of Progressive Rock

I make no apologies in saying that a large proportion of the music which I listen to these days could be termed "progressive rock".

Progressive rock music is popularly associated with self-indulgence, "uncool" excess and showmanship, and a kind of elitism, a world away from the primal energy and spontaneity of rock and roll. This analysis of course assumes that self-indulgence, excess and elitism are always harmful and bad, and that all the purveyors of progressive music necessarily wanted to be thought of as "rock and roll". Music is tribal in nature, and as with other forms of tribalism, intellectual honesty and open-mindedness are among the first casualties, on all sides.

It is worth recalling whence prog came. It is often asserted that it was a natural and organic continuation and expansion of the psychedelic revolution and experimentation of the second half of the 1960s. However, this would be to over-simplify matters. There was no single source or catalyst, just as what became identified as progressive rock was not single, coherent, homogeneous entity. It takes many forms, and many shades.

Perhaps a better explanation would be that the "genre" emerged from a desire of many musicians, from varied backgrounds, to push the artistic, spiritual and intellectual boundaries of rock. New frontiers and fields were there to be explored, and there is little doubt that some of the, ahem, lifestyle choices of the period hastened and intensified this process.

The term prog became almost a pejorative one in the mid-1970s, and this tended to obscure the fact that it was a broad church, embracing classical, folk,jazz, blues and avant-garde elements, all loosely connected with the desire to produce more complex and intricate music, and to some extent to address more outlandish and challenging themes.

Prog has had a bad press partly because its practitioners were mainly, but not exclusively, from educated middle class backgrounds. Many had received formal or classical musical training. It may also be ventured that many of those who listened to and appreciated prog were from similar social strata. This has prompted charges of "elitism", but I fail to see how this prevents the music from being "relevant" or subversive. It may not have had the visceral energy of punk, but many prog acts examined contentious moral and social questions.  The stances adopted by some prog acts, when looked at closely and objectively, can be seen to correspond to the world-view of many of the journalists and musicians who so fiercely criticized the movement. Often the lyrics, if cryptically or enigmatically, questioned or deplored the social status quo.  They just did it with less outright vehemence or venom than other musical genres, and they often employed sarcasm and humour to get their points across. It was sometimes a case of the prog musicians rebelling against the stagnation and conservatism of the milieu into which they themselves had been born. In their own way, they were also alternative and militant, but the perceived pomposity of their sound tended to conceal this, and many deliberately ignored this dimension of prog.

 

In defending prog, I am not implying that it is beyond criticism, and some of the music of the mid 1970s in particular has not aged too well. It was Yes who were on the receiving end of the much of the vitriol circa 1976/77. Now, however, I would say that their music, particularly that from their peak period of 1971/72, has aged better than the output of most of their prog contemporaries. The melodicism, and the often hippie/New Age lyrics now seem quite benign. Perhaps things have come full circle in that respect.

 

It is often proclaimed that the punk explosion sounded the death-knell for progressive rock, but this thesis ignores salient considerations. By 1974, prog had already passed its peak in terms of artistic vigour, invention and originality,  and to some degree in commercial appeal as well. The "genre" thereafter treaded water, becoming a touch hollow, and was therefore in decline for a good couple of years even before punk fully emerged.  

 

In saying that prog became bloated and self-indulgent, we must bear in mind that by its very nature it was experimental, and when people push boundaries, they occasionally cross that thin, invisible line which divides "ingenious and erudite" from "bombastic and pretentious". Many of the good ideas had been used up, and the survivors remained on the "wrong" side of the line, could not find a way back, and offered up an empty and pale shadow of what had once been, also perpetrating increasingly frequent lapses of taste.

 

Some of the detractors made perfectly valid points, but I still contend that at its best, progressive rock was genuinely innovative, exciting and cerebral. What we all need to remember, whichever side of the fence we inhabit, is that it's only music!

 

The Unforgiven - The Story of Don Revie's Leeds United - Rob Bagchi & Paul Rogerson

There is frustratingly little in the way of books, that I have seen anyway, which comprehensively cover and analyse Don Revie's glorious but turbulent tenure at the helm of Leeds United. This one, originally published in 2002/03, does not completely plug the gap (if such a gap indeed exists) or satisfy the need, but it is nonetheless an entertaining and lively effort.

 

 

"Concise", "lean" and "digestible" would be some of the words appropriately employed to describe "The Unforgiven". Fans and students may feel that it barely scratches the surface on  key issues such as tactics, Revie the man and the mystique surrounding the whole era.  One is left wanting more, but I see this more as a virtue than a criticism of the product.

Where the book does score highly for me is in capturing the essence and the atmosphere of the times, both in football and in a wider social context. The "outsider" status and distinct character of the Revie team, and the hostility which it attracted from the outside, are well conveyed. One is also constantly reminded of the different parameters within which Leeds, and other clubs, were operating in the 1960s and the 1970s.

It is amusing but poignant to note the paltry (by today's standards) financial sums involved, and the crucial importance of week-to-week gate receipts in determining strategy, even in the "glory days".  This leads us on to another thread which runs through the book, namely the complex relationship which the club "enjoyed" with the Leeds public, and the sense that this team was often under-appreciated and misunderstood, even on its own doorstep.

The text is colourfully written in places, and will not be to everyone's taste, but it does help to encapsulate the mud-spattered, rugged world which Revie's men inhabited, with limited squad sizes, horrendous fixture congestion (a familiar bugbear for Leeds in those days) and a very different media landscape. Quotes from the press of the time help to bring over an immediacy and a "real time" feel.

Creditably, Bagchi and Rogerson concentrate much of their effort on the pre-1969/70 period, when the groundwork was being undertaken. We therefore get a glimpse of how the legendary team of later years took shape and evolved, with the introduction of the young players and the occasional judicious signing. The passages dealing with activities in the transfer market are quite illuminating, and once again underline how times have changed. Some episodes not particularly familiar to the casual observer are given prominence, such as the club's early adventures in the European competitions.

By no means do the authors give the impression that all was sweetness and light, examining the less savoury aspects of the epoch, including the beginnings of hooliganism and the excesses of some teams on the pitch. The supposed professional insecurity of Don Revie is also a major theme. The flaws, contradictions and disappointments are part of what made the team so compelling, although some might yearn for a more profound search for the reasons behind Leeds' repeated role as "bridesmaids".

This book was originally written at a time when Leeds United were still threatening to build something vaguely comparable to those heady days of yore. The subsequent precipitate decline of "the dream" only adds to the allure of the era which ended in the summer of 1974. The club, and the city itself, have undergone additional change in the past decade, and some of the comparisons and perspective, in the edition which I have at least, may not be as pertinent as they were. However, this does not negate the overall charm of this piece of work, which is both breezy and highly readable.

 

Revolver - The Beatles - album review

Of all the albums recorded by The Beatles, perhaps none more epitomised the Swinging Sixties than Revolver, released in 1966.  Embodying some of the sunny optimism of the time, but also exuding a sophistication and a keener affinity with counter-cultural concerns.

This record was made when The Beatles were still a touring band, before their retreat into a more reclusive and studio-bound existence. Although some of the tracks on Revolver are very much studio creations, others very much inhabit guitar-band territory, with added "attitude" and occasionally tinged with a nascent psychedelia.  One can discern the influence of 1966-era Beatles guitar-orientated material in the New Wave groups of the late 1970s and early 1980s, and even in later indie bands.

Having said that Revolver exudes the vibrancy of its era, it is also worth noting that the scope of its lyrical concerns was very broad, encompassing more social commentary than before, and containing many references to emergent underground culture. The Beatles were by no means unique in exploring virgin subject matter, but the sheer variety of the topics on Revolver is remarkable. Death, taxes, loneliness, consciousness, war and mind-altering substances - they are all there.

It is often said that the complementary strengths and approaches of Lennon and McCartney were some of the ingredients which made the Beatles special.  However on Revolver such simplistic pigeon-holing is not really applicable, as both men are in creative and restless form.  It cannot be smugly declared that one songwriter's contributions are edgy and subversive, whilst the other's are more conservative.  The fact that both rise to the occasion, and push themselves, helps give the album additional depth and sweep.

The record's closing track, "Tomorrow Never Knows" doesn't so much close the book on one era, as open a door and peer into an exciting but unpredictable future.  I would argue that the song has been excessively acclaimed in purely musical terms, but symbolically, and as a statement of intent, its effect was startling, probably more so on their peers and the "in crowd" than on Joe Public.

The continued blossoming of George Harrison added another dimension.  His often contradictory concerns were being projected with greater clarity, as exemplified by "Taxman" and "Love You To", and this greatly augmented the group's eclecticism and mystique.  This was the stage at which George truly advanced from being a mere guitar player to something much more integral.

Many of the songs on Revolver are pervaded by a peculiar, almost sleepy and indolent, ambience, which sets it apart from the warm crispness of Rubber Soul and the flawless perfectionism of "Sgt Pepper". Production techniques may have played a part, but there could have been other contributory factors.

There were sign-posts for the future, with unconventional instrumentation and studio experimentation, but The Beatles never lost sight of the fundamental importance of good songwriting and craftsmanship, and these sensibilities are on full display on tracks such as "Got To Get You Into My Life", "For No One" and "Here, There and Everywhere".

Listening to the record, I am also reminded of the apparent effortlessness with which this album was turned out. On other Beatles albums, for all their undoubted quality and charm, one can sense how hard they were trying.  On Revolver, very little feels "forced" or calculating.  It was as if creativity and ideas were flowing naturally from the musicians, with no need for gimmicks or pretension.

Revolver represents a peak of sorts.  Other artists would have sensed that they had nothing further to say, but time would amply demonstrate that The Beatles were in many respects only just beginning....

Laura Nyro

My interest in the singer-songwriter movement of the late 1960s and 1970s had brought me into contact with the name Laura Nyro.  I was aware that she was considered influential, that her songs had been covered by a wide diversity of artists, and that she had sadly died in 1997.  However, until very recently I had not delved into her own musical body of work, and doing this has proved a revelation to say the least.

Before, I had browsed cursorily through a couple of greatest hits compilations, and I had developed a fondness for a few of her best-known songs, in particular "Wedding Bell Blues".  I imagined that her solo recordings from the early days would be something of a "songbook", with perfunctory versions of the songs covered by various luminaries.  How ignorant and mistaken I was!  I had greatly under-estimated the sheer beauty of Laura's music, and the quality of her voice. It also turns out that some of her most famous compositions are not necessarily representative of her catalogue overall.  Those first three or four albums in particular are all credible and coherent works by themselves.

The first album, later re-issued as "The First Songs", offers a rich harvest of melodies and memorable and affecting songs.  The most astounding thing about that debut is just how fresh and timeless it sounds, well over four decades since it was recorded.  Let's face, much of the music from that era has not aged very well, but these songs of Laura's sound as if they could have been recorded yesterday.  I was also struck by the richness of the chord changes, and the all-around crispness.

Among many highlights on the first LP is "Goodbye Joe", a song which for me embodies everything which makes great pop music so wonderful.  Effortlessly melodic, evocative but immediate lyrics and a jauntiness, vibrancy and energy which are like honey to the ears.  Contrast this number with the haunting "Billy's Blues", "I Never Meant to Hurt You" and "Buy and Sell"...

Another thing which I was previously unaware of was the purity and versatility of Laura's voice.  Sometimes such angelic voices can appear anodyne at times, but hers managed to combine all of this with expressiveness and individuality.  Spontanetity, variety and inventiveness of phrasing were also hallmarks.

Not content to rest on her laurels, later albums were more experimental and ambitious. Certainly "Eli and the Thirteenth Confession" is less commercial and instantly "likeable" than its predecessor, and contains more hard-edged material.  That said, it contains many memorable compositions, and it can be argued that the lyrical subject matter is more varied and interesting.  "Christmas and the Beads of Sweat" in some respects represents a return to the feel of, and the territory explored by, the debut, at least melodically and sonically, although the songs were longer and more complex.

Listening to those early albums in particular, one can hear a multiplicity of influences, including jazz, Motown and soul, but the finished article is never less than original and cleverly and sympathetically produced.  I have heard Laura described as the "missing link" between Brill Building pop and the then nascent singer-songwriter movement.  There may be an element of truth in this, although it is likely an over-simplification.

Although's Laura Nyro's own records did not sell in the multi-millions, it is clear how influential her work has been, especially for female artists, and how much respect she commanded amongst her peers. I have also been heartened to discover that the music still has many devoted fans.  These songs and recordings deserve an ever wider audience.  I am endeavouring to spread the word here in England!

I defy anyone who enjoys good music not to be enthused and touched by that first album, and what followed....