‘Meanwhile, back….’

Been a year of anniversaries, hasn’t it?

As an aside, the first modern centenary, according to a thing I read on the weekend in the TLS, was 400 years ago, 1617 – the 100th anniversary of the start of the Reformation. It marked the occasion when Martin Luther popped down to the local Mitre 10 and got a hammer & some nails, all the better to affix his wee note on the problem with Catholicism to the door of the local kirk.

We just, for New Zild political nerds, had the 30th Anniversary of the fourth Labour government’s December 1987 economic package. It was this which finally split that government, eventaully, with the ripping noise being the main political sound effect for the next 12 months.

More recently there was the 100th anniversaries of the Russian Revolution – the October, Bolshevik one, that is – and the Battle of Paschendale.

January 2017 was 50 years since Rob Muldoon first became finance minister, and didn’t that end well?

Musically, 1967 was a biggie.

I’m going to focus on music now, simply because I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room so screw having a look at anything serious.

Earlier in the year it was 50 years since the Beatles released their Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album.

Someone coming to the matter, cold, would be left with the impression this was one of the greatest cultural event since the last greatest cultural event which got the baby boomers all excited.

There is, of course, the release of yet another rerelease/reissue/remastering of the album, this one is ‘super deluxe’ one in which you can hear Ringo scratching himself in both mono and stereo.

As someone who was only a month or so off my third birthday, I have to say Sgt Pepper didn’t make a great deal of impact on me at the time.

I can remember Penny Lane on the radio, earlier that year. It was, I now gather, originally intended for the album, as was the other side of that single, Strawberry Fields Forever, but they wanted a single and, as was the custom with British bands, it was released separately.

I think both are better than anything actually on the album, with the possible exception of A Day In The Life. Years later, as a teenager taking an interest in music and being more than a little disgruntled with what was on the radio at the time, I asked for the album for Christmas. It was, after all, supposed to be the greatest album of all time, according to the musical books I’d read.

It was…interesting, certainly. Great swirling depths on some tracks, especially ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ and ‘Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite’. Some of it was a bit naff. It was ok, and interesting – certainly more so than the disco (and worse) on the radio in the late’70s.

But ‘Penny Lane’ is a song I still associate with childhood summer: to me, those high exuberant trumpets sound like the sun on the skin feels. Dad had made a sandpit for us at the start of the summer and I remember playing with this great little red tractor in it; the sound of the old radiogram coming through the window, the kind of deep, wooden mahogany tones which are unique to the sort of cabinet those old devices came housed in.

I’m sure being mixed in mono had something to do with it, for audiophiles, and probably being played on vinyl also had an effect.

But I’ve never heard music with quite the same warm rich tones since. This is probably partly nostalgia but hey, its Christmas.

It is a bit weird, looking at the video clip the Beatles did at the time, because it is so clearly the dead of northern hemisphere winter and it is a song which to me beams the laid-back heat of a New Zealand summer.

Other music from that year – and it must have been a time I was starting to notice what was on the radio – was Bobbie Gentry’s Ode to Billie Joe.

This was very much to my taste, because it mentioned ‘my brother was out baling hay’. I loved the machinery brought in for making hay on the farm, especially the baler. There should be more songs which mentioned baling hay, I remember thinking at the time. The rest of the song seemed a bit pointless.

The Beatles – Hey Bulldog in the studio


Back in the late 60s the only time I remember seeing musical clips was when they were jammed in between programmes to fill a gap. The word ‘Interlude’ could come up. More often than not it was an orchestral version of ‘Do You Know the Way to San Jose’ being played with a film of a steam engine. My brother and I used to call that ‘The Interlude Song’.

I remember seeing a musical clip at my aunt’s – this would have been mid- 1968, and I was four – and being told it was The Beatles. I could never recall the song – the only thing I remembered was one of them, at the end,  picking up his jacket and throwing it over his shoulder.

Discovered recently, through Youtube, the song was ‘Lady Madonna’.

This clip is from the film which went with that, but – obviously – the song is not ‘Lady Madonna’

The tale goes they wanted to film the Beatles in the studio to go with the ‘Lady Madonna’ single and they figured, since they were in the studio anyway, they’d record a song.

The Lady Madonna clip has them singing and playing and at no point do the words and singing and playing match the tune, but that was pretty common in those days anyway.

A few years ago someone went back to the film, unscrambled it and put this together.

The song is one of Lennon’s nonsense numbers, in the same vein as the more well known ‘I Am the Walrus’. I like it for a lot of reasons, one of the big ones being it hasn’t been played so often any magic has long since departed, which is how I feel about most of the Beatles output.

It’s also got some great playing. The bass in particular, along with that nagging rhythm guitar riff. Ringo’s drums are heavier on the tomtoms than usual, and the lead guitar break is a great little slash and burner.