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| From | Stewart Mason <flamingo@theworld.com> |
| Subject | Re: Sticky Fingers |
| Date | Fri, 11 Apr 2003 17:53:28 -0400 |
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At 04:32 PM 4/11/2003 EDT, GaryPig@aol.com wrote:
>
><< I also think that SATANIC MAJESTIES is a better record than SGT. PEPPER,
>but I've made that argument before. >>
>
>....and I must have missed it,
>Stewart!
>
>Could you kindly repeat your thoughts,
>if only for my benefit of someone who firmly believes FLOWERS is a better
>butcher(ed) album than YESTERDAY AND TODAY?
With apologies to the Amplifier subscribers who have already seen this:
Just as every action has an equal and opposite reaction, every golden child
has his whipping boy. Every Gallant has his Goofus, every Bugs Bunny his
Elmer Fudd. And Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band has Their Satanic
Majesties Request.
We've all heard it a million times before. Sgt. Pepper is the greatest
album of all time and Satanic Majesties is a load of crap. Given that these
albums came out 35 years ago, many of us have been hearing this party line
quite literally all our lives. It's presented almost as historical fact
that Sgt. Pepper is a masterpiece. Even the New York freakin' Times
declared it one of the greatest artworks in the history of western
civilization. Well, what can you say after you've said "Oh, for God's
sake"? Even without taking the argument that rock and roll's inherent
purpose is to, as we used to say in college, subvert the dominant paradigm
- an argument that has always been more than a little silly and one that
makes even less sense in a world where Creedence Clearwater Revival's
"Fortunate Son" (remember, the song about how George W. Bush didn't have to
go to Vietnam 'cause his daddy could pull some strings?) is used to sell
Wranglers - it's easy to say that "With A Little Help From My Friends" is
pretty thin gruel when compared to, say, Moby-Dick or Guernica.
Besides, the greatest pop album of all time is Game Theory's Lolita Nation.
Why? Because I said so. Wait, isn't that an entirely subjective
statement? Well, duh. There's no such thing as an objective standard for
art, there's only a bunch of opinions, some of them proclaimed more loudly
than others. And in my opinion, Sgt. Pepper is not only not the greatest
album of all time, it's probably the Beatles' worst album. (Its only
competition is Let It Be, which at least has that perversely fascinating
train wreck quality in its favor.) This is not to say that there aren't
great songs on here: "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds" and "A Day in the
Life" are brilliant, of course, and I've always liked George's Indian
songs, so I dig "Within You, Without You" even though I think it's weaker
than either "Love You To" or "The Inner Light." But seriously, have a look
at the rest of the track listing. "She's Leaving Home," the most wretchedly
sentimental song in Paul McCartney's oeuvre - and I love the guy, but come
on, that's a hotly contested honor - alone is enough to dock the album a
full letter grade, but "Fixing A Hole," "Good Morning Good Morning" and
"Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite" are hardly better. Ray Davies and
others managed to borrow heavily from the English music hall tradition
without coming up with anything as coyly twee as "When I'm 64." Like a
restaurant that ladles on the velvety cream sauces, fresh mango-chipotle
salsas and artistic drizzles of balsamic vinegar and pesto to try to
disguise the fact that the meat underneath all that has been frozen solid
for nine months, George Martin and the group prop up a batch of
underwritten, half-finished songs with trippy sound effects and inventive
arrangements. (For all the trees felled to feed the constant what-ifs about
what might have happened if Brian Wilson had finished Smile, how come no
one ever wonders what would have happened if EMI hadn't insisted that
"Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Penny Lane" - two songs that are more
daring and richly melodic than anything here - be rush-released as an early
1967 single, scuttling the Beatles' original plan to make an album about
their childhoods?) So basically, to sum up: don't believe the hype.
And don't believe the anti-hype, either. I am not going to proclaim that
Their Satanic Majesties' Request is the Rolling Stones' best album. That
would be Between the Buttons. But I would argue that not only is the album
not a failed attempt to jump on the psychedelia bandwagon, it's not really
that far off from the string of albums and singles that had preceded it.
ABKCO's recent reissue of the original '60s Stones albums in crisply
remastered sound reveals that from at least the time of December's
Children, the Rolling Stones were no strangers to studio experimentation,
oddball arrangement and production choices and even that hoary old music
hall tradition. The idea that the Rolling Stones were purist rock and roll
bad-asses who spent all their time peeing against garage walls and sucking
Mars Bars out of Marianne Faithfull is a revisionist invention by a cadre
of myopic American rock journalists cheerfully unaware of the implications
of the British art school tradition in rock and roll, which the Rolling
Stones grew out of as surely as the Beatles or the Who. (These people are
also known as the '70s-era writing staff at Rolling Stone magazine.) Like
those groups, or the Kinks, or newer bands like the Creation and the Small
Faces, the Rolling Stones were fully aware of the incipient art pop scene
in Swinging London (retroactively dubbed "freakbeat"), and they dove right
in with both feet on classic singles like "Mother's Little Helper," "Ruby
Tuesday" and the utterly brilliant "Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby,
Standing in the Shadow," as well as even more arch and witty album tracks
like "Cool, Calm and Collected" or "Something Happened To Me Yesterday."
Add in the group's increasing interest in psychedelics and Brian Jones'
immersion in what would decades later be called "world music" (It's surely
the first white rock and roll album to feature African drummers, and
"Gomper" is inspired by the same Moroccan musicians Jones would record and
release as Brian Jones Presents the Master Musicians of Jajouka before his
untimely death), and it becomes clear that if anything, Their Satanic
Majesties Request is a more daring and experimental album than Sgt. Pepper.
The piss-poor mix (improved considerably on the new remaster, incidentally)
obscures much of what's most interesting about these songs, but even a
cursory listen reveals at least half a dozen terrific songs - by my count,
at least three or four more than Sgt. Pepper has - with three that are
among the group's best ever: the majestic, stuttering riff-rocker
"Citadel," the horrifically gloomy "2000 Light Years From Home" and the
simply lovely "She's A Rainbow." In addition, "In Another Land" is the one
halfway-decent song Bill Wyman has ever written, and there are plenty of
flashes of the group's under-appreciated sense of humor; the closing track
"On With The Show" is one of the funniest things they ever did. Yes, there
are filler tracks, but "2000 Man" and the needlessly elongated
African-folk-free jazz jam "Sing This All Together (See What Happens)" are
no more useless than the similarly half-assed time-wasters that pad out
pretty much every other album the band ever made. (Seriously, when was the
last time you actually sat down and listened to "Goin' Home"?) And an
interesting experiment that doesn't come entirely off is always more
interesting than a cynical cash-in for an impending tour, making Their
Satanic Majesties Request a far better album than anything the Stones have
done since Goats Head Soup. Which came out in 1973. 29 years is way too
long to be coasting on reputation.
But don't take my word for it. Sit down with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts
Club Band and Their Satanic Majesties Request, listen for yourself, and
make up your own mind. There are worse ways to spend an evening.
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