it was 40 years ago today: a tribute to the beatles, and beatlemania/volume 1. reviews by alan haber. buhdge

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It Was 40 Years Ago Today: A Tribute to The Beatles Various Artists Bullseye (2004) Beatlemania/Volume 1 (Included with the September 2004 issue of Mojo magazine) Every so often, when I worked in the music department of a major metropolitan bookstore, young boys and girls would come up to me and ask which Beatles album they should start with, implying that they had already convinced themselves, or been convinced by their parents, that one album by Britain's hit making machine wasn't going to be enough in the long run. I was always amazed by this. After all, I'm a first-generation Beatles fan, and I simply can not count the number of times I've heard kids bemoan their parents' ramming of the Fabs down their throats. I remember vividly my parents similarly ramming their favorite artists down mine, albeit artists from another era. The strong bond my father had with me was often centered around music; he was able to connect with a lot of what I listened to, chiefly the horn bands like Chicago and Blood, Sweat and Tears, and, most impressively, the Beatles. I remember him sitting on my bed with me, liking Abbey Road. Maybe just partly because he took an interest in my music, I took an interest in his, appreciating and even enjoying the likes of Sinatra, Bennett and Streisand years before it was cool for a kid to do so. So it always used to surprise me that kids, who one would think would hate their parents' music, would not only like it, but seek it out for their own collections. Looking back, I guess it makes sense. I remember an old boss's teenage son taking a compulsive interest in Jimi Hendrix. I guess a lot of parents and aunts and uncles and the like prefer to force their interests on their younger charges, but I prefer the older folk who give kids the option to investigate where music came from and see the merits of the past in their own time, on their own terms. Of course, it's pretty hard to miss the Beatle's influence on bands of any generation, and it's just as hard to avoid hearing them (and, for many young people, the Beatles are part of their here and now). The Beatles are all over the radio, and it's hard to find a music collection that doesn't include at least one of their albums. And when a deeply-committed fan like me is in the room, well, don't even try to shut him up. As the Beatles' influence on popular music continues to stay strong in the group's fifth decade of popularity (not even air is as popular, I'm guessing), those of us who were around when their first notes hit the airwaves and our record players smile a mile wide when kids say they love them. So it follows naturally, I think, that music magazines still feature everyone's favorite Mop Tops on their covers (the September issue of Mojo is another in the publication's long line of Beatles-themed issues) and record companies continue to release Beatles tribute albums and, not least, new Beatles releases continue to be introduced to the market (there is a pretty hot rumor now making the rounds that the first four American Beatles albums will be released in a box set for 2004 holiday gift giving). The latest Beatles-related CD entries include a two-disc Beatles tribute from Canada's Bullseye Records, and two covers CDs that come free with the aforementioned September 2004 issue of Mojo (you have to buy the issue twice to get both CDs, however). Both the Mojo and Bullseye releases are proof positive that just about anything Beatles is a good thing, and when that good thing is fantastic, well, it's even better. Such is the case with Volume 1 of Mojo's Beatlemania series of CDs. Just by purchasing the September 2004 issue, you get this nifty 15 track compilation, compiled by the magazine's editors, and it's a doozy. Leading off the disc is a wonderful take on Rubber Soul's "I'm Looking Through You" from the Posies, here in their we're-a-happy-band mode. Recorded for, but not used in, Wes Anderson's great movie The Royal Tenenbaums, this mostly reverent version (the guitar solos are a bit more Posies than Beatles, perhaps) distills the essence of the Posies' Beatle's influence, which was worn on their sleeves in abundance on their Dear 23 album. The rest of the disc shows the wide variety of approaches that artists from different genres have taken to interpreting Beatles songs. The Free Design's baroque approach to "Michelle" blends rather nicely into Dillard and Clark's countryish take on "Don't Let Me Down"; the pedal steel really sounds tailor-made for the track. Jumping to another extreme, Booker T. and the MGs' boogie-funked up version of "You Can't Do That" sits comfortably alongside Jose Feliciano's stately, orchestrated run through of "In My Life." Bravo to Mojo for including ex-Raspberry Scott McCarl's take on "Yes It Is" and the Cyrkle's "I'm Happy Just to Dance With You," earning every sixties pop fan's respect in two fell swoops. The sheer variety of styles and approaches taken by the artists included on Beatlemania/Volume 1 makes the disc a close cousin to Bullseye's tribute: the package's 50 tracks, the quality of which is almost uniformly high across the board, encompass enough styles and approaches to practically create its own genre. This may well be the best Beatles tribute release thus far. Many of the bands contributing here will be familiar to buhdge readers, especially if they are of a power pop bent; there is quite the familiar comfort zone in the form of collective company that includes the Spongetones, the Lolas, Michael Carpenter, Walter Clevenger and the Dairy Kings, and Andrew Gold. But these and other familiar acts are not the only shining lights on display; names such as Cats & Dogs and The First Time, that are perhaps unknown to some, also turn in top-flight performances. And not every song is played so reverentially as to not carry the slightest bit of cover band DNA. Consider tracks from Disc One such as the Helium Kids' take on "Fixing a Hole," transformed from the lightly-seasoned pop original into a beat-intensive, heavy on the drums workout. Or dig Cadence's Manhattan Transfer-meets-Moxy Fruvous version of "Drive My Car," a truly innovative, mostly-a capella experience with superior harmonies and an arrangement that's out of this world. After a jokey, circus-like snippet of "Sie Liebt Dich" (the German version of "She Loves You") from a band called the Trimatics, the Lolas come out swinging with a take-no-prisoners revamp of "Good Morning, Good Morning." The Dons keep the momentum going, following with their energized, rockified version of "Savoy Truffle." Other standout workouts on the first disc include Andrew Gold's sprightly "Lady Madonna" (from a Beatles karaoke project from some years ago that was light on karaoke), Tom Hooper's folky interpretation of George Harrison's "Long Long Long," the glorious, harmony-influenced pseudo-cha-cha of Sun PK's "I'm Happy Just to Dance With You," and perhaps, the most happy surprise on Disc One, the Popdudes' hard rockin' "Helter Skelter" (is that pop journalist John Borack banging those skins? Freakout, baby!). Disc Two offers similar delights, and perhaps some of this collection's best tracks. Dave Rave gets things going with the Wretches and their warm look at "Here Comes the Sun." Steve Barton puts the power back in power pop with his get in, get out, punky-metalish version of "She's Leaving Home (The Ramones would be proud). Al Kooper completely reimagines "Eleanor Rigby" as a horn-tinged blues, and makes the song his own. Great job from one of rock's most famous artists. After a fake-out samba intro, Phil Vincent rocks out on "Oh! Darling." Phil Angotti turns in a memorable performance with his look at "I'm Only Sleeping," proving he is only getting better and better. Neilson Hubbard, closely miked, mimics the Beatle's original version of "Julia" while bringing it current with a female harmony vocal. And Paul Myers (Mike "Austin Powers" Myers' brother) scores with a spacey version of "I Want to Tell You." But that's not telling half the story of Disc Two. The one and only Spongetones turn in a loving version of "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite," Michael Carpenter delivers a typically jangly "If I Needed Someone," and Brian Curtis's the Oohs tear the house down with an absolutely knockout version of "You're Gonna Lose that Girl," with harmonies to die for. Perhaps my favorite tracks overall, however, are Walter Clevenger and the Dairy Kings' sumptuous, uptempo Byrds-meets-Nick Lowe take on "I Will," complete with the absolutely correct last chord, and the ever-great Bill Lloyd's slow and steady passionate reading, backwards guitar and all, of "Across the Universe." These two are worth the price of admission all by themselves. It's easy to dismiss tribute albums out of hand, because for so many of them there is so much more bad than good, but that is simply not the case here. Both It Was 40 Years Ago and the Mojo disc prove that, in the right hands, nods to past glories can soar higher than high. And if, in the case of many of the tracks on both releases, they help you connect with piece of your life since forgotten or brushed aside, well, that's icing on the cake. Alan Haber buhdge September 6, 2004
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It Was 40 Years Ago Today: A Tribute to The Beatles
Various Artists
Bullseye (2004)

Beatlemania/Volume 1
(Included with the September 2004 issue of Mojo magazine)

Every so often, when I worked in the music department of a major metropolitan bookstore, young boys and girls would come up to me and ask which Beatles album they should start with, implying that they had already convinced themselves, or been convinced by their parents, that one album by Britain's hit making machine wasn't going to be enough in the long run. I was always amazed by this.

After all, I'm a first-generation Beatles fan, and I simply can not count the number of times I've heard kids bemoan their parents' ramming of the Fabs down their throats. I remember vividly my parents similarly ramming their favorite artists down mine, albeit artists from another era. The strong bond my father had with me was often centered around music; he was able to connect with a lot of what I listened to, chiefly the horn bands like Chicago and Blood, Sweat and Tears, and, most impressively, the Beatles. I remember him sitting on my bed with me, liking Abbey Road. Maybe just partly because he took an interest in my music, I took an interest in his, appreciating and even enjoying the likes of Sinatra, Bennett and Streisand years before it was cool for a kid to do so.

So it always used to surprise me that kids, who one would think would hate their parents' music, would not only like it, but seek it out for their own collections. Looking back, I guess it makes sense. I remember an old boss's teenage son taking a compulsive interest in Jimi Hendrix. I guess a lot of parents and aunts and uncles and the like prefer to force their interests on their younger charges, but I prefer the older folk who give kids the option to investigate where music came from and see the merits of the past in their own time, on their own terms.

Of course, it's pretty hard to miss the Beatle's influence on bands of any generation, and it's just as hard to avoid hearing them (and, for many young people, the Beatles are part of their here and now). The Beatles are all over the radio, and it's hard to find a music collection that doesn't include at least one of their albums. And when a deeply-committed fan like me is in the room, well, don't even try to shut him up.

As the Beatles' influence on popular music continues to stay strong in the group's fifth decade of popularity (not even air is as popular, I'm guessing), those of us who were around when their first notes hit the airwaves and our record players smile a mile wide when kids say they love them. So it follows naturally, I think, that music magazines still feature everyone's favorite Mop Tops on their covers (the September issue of Mojo is another in the publication's long line of Beatles-themed issues) and record companies continue to release Beatles tribute albums and, not least, new Beatles releases continue to be introduced to the market (there is a pretty hot rumor now making the rounds that the first four American Beatles albums will be released in a box set for 2004 holiday gift giving).

The latest Beatles-related CD entries include a two-disc Beatles tribute from Canada's Bullseye Records, and two covers CDs that come free with the aforementioned September 2004 issue of Mojo (you have to buy the issue twice to get both CDs, however). Both the Mojo and Bullseye releases are proof positive that just about anything Beatles is a good thing, and when that good thing is fantastic, well, it's even better.

Such is the case with Volume 1 of Mojo's Beatlemania series of CDs. Just by purchasing the September 2004 issue, you get this nifty 15 track compilation, compiled by the magazine's editors, and it's a doozy. Leading off the disc is a wonderful take on Rubber Soul's "I'm Looking Through You" from the Posies, here in their we're-a-happy-band mode. Recorded for, but not used in, Wes Anderson's great movie The Royal Tenenbaums, this mostly reverent version (the guitar solos are a bit more Posies than Beatles, perhaps) distills the essence of the Posies' Beatle's influence, which was worn on their sleeves in abundance on their Dear 23 album.

The rest of the disc shows the wide variety of approaches that artists from different genres have taken to interpreting Beatles songs. The Free Design's baroque approach to "Michelle" blends rather nicely into Dillard and Clark's countryish take on "Don't Let Me Down"; the pedal steel really sounds tailor-made for the track. Jumping to another extreme, Booker T. and the MGs' boogie-funked up version of "You Can't Do That" sits comfortably alongside Jose Feliciano's stately, orchestrated run through of "In My Life." Bravo to Mojo for including ex-Raspberry Scott McCarl's take on "Yes It Is" and the Cyrkle's "I'm Happy Just to Dance With You," earning every sixties pop fan's respect in two fell swoops.

The sheer variety of styles and approaches taken by the artists included on Beatlemania/Volume 1 makes the disc a close cousin to Bullseye's tribute: the package's 50 tracks, the quality of which is almost uniformly high across the board, encompass enough styles and approaches to practically create its own genre. This may well be the best Beatles tribute release thus far.

Many of the bands contributing here will be familiar to buhdge readers, especially if they are of a power pop bent; there is quite the familiar comfort zone in the form of collective company that includes the Spongetones, the Lolas, Michael Carpenter, Walter Clevenger and the Dairy Kings, and Andrew Gold. But these and other familiar acts are not the only shining lights on display; names such as Cats & Dogs and The First Time, that are perhaps unknown to some, also turn in top-flight performances.

And not every song is played so reverentially as to not carry the slightest bit of cover band DNA. Consider tracks from Disc One such as the Helium Kids' take on "Fixing a Hole," transformed from the lightly-seasoned pop original into a beat-intensive, heavy on the drums workout. Or dig Cadence's Manhattan Transfer-meets-Moxy Fruvous version of "Drive My Car," a truly innovative, mostly-a capella experience with superior harmonies and an arrangement that's out of this world.

After a jokey, circus-like snippet of "Sie Liebt Dich" (the German version of "She Loves You") from a band called the Trimatics, the Lolas come out swinging with a take-no-prisoners revamp of "Good Morning, Good Morning." The Dons keep the momentum going, following with their energized, rockified version of "Savoy Truffle."

Other standout workouts on the first disc include Andrew Gold's sprightly "Lady Madonna" (from a Beatles karaoke project from some years ago that was light on karaoke), Tom Hooper's folky interpretation of George Harrison's "Long Long Long," the glorious, harmony-influenced pseudo-cha-cha of Sun PK's "I'm Happy Just to Dance With You," and perhaps, the most happy surprise on Disc One, the Popdudes' hard rockin' "Helter Skelter" (is that pop journalist John Borack banging those skins? Freakout, baby!).

Disc Two offers similar delights, and perhaps some of this collection's best tracks. Dave Rave gets things going with the Wretches and their warm look at "Here Comes the Sun." Steve Barton puts the power back in power pop with his get in, get out, punky-metalish version of "She's Leaving Home (The Ramones would be proud). Al Kooper completely reimagines "Eleanor Rigby" as a horn-tinged blues, and makes the song his own. Great job from one of rock's most famous artists. After a fake-out samba intro, Phil Vincent rocks out on "Oh! Darling."

Phil Angotti turns in a memorable performance with his look at "I'm Only Sleeping," proving he is only getting better and better. Neilson Hubbard, closely miked, mimics the Beatle's original version of "Julia" while bringing it current with a female harmony vocal. And Paul Myers (Mike "Austin Powers" Myers' brother) scores with a spacey version of "I Want to Tell You."

But that's not telling half the story of Disc Two. The one and only Spongetones turn in a loving version of "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite," Michael Carpenter delivers a typically jangly "If I Needed Someone," and Brian Curtis's the Oohs tear the house down with an absolutely knockout version of "You're Gonna Lose that Girl," with harmonies to die for.

Perhaps my favorite tracks overall, however, are Walter Clevenger and the Dairy Kings' sumptuous, uptempo Byrds-meets-Nick Lowe take on "I Will," complete with the absolutely correct last chord, and the ever-great Bill Lloyd's slow and steady passionate reading, backwards guitar and all, of "Across the Universe." These two are worth the price of admission all by themselves.

It's easy to dismiss tribute albums out of hand, because for so many of them there is so much more bad than good, but that is simply not the case here. Both It Was 40 Years Ago and the Mojo disc prove that, in the right hands, nods to past glories can soar higher than high. And if, in the case of many of the tracks on both releases, they help you connect with piece of your life since forgotten or brushed aside, well, that's icing on the cake.

Alan Haber
buhdge
September 6, 2004