Showing posts with label The Beatles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Beatles. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 June 2014

The Beatles, again

Actually, this post isn't about the Beatles as such, it just follows on from my earlier post about them - and the Moptops are probably a bit more grabbing as a prospect than the diffuse thought-piece that follows. 

It will be unusually brief, however.


I said before that anyone would agree that the development of the Beatles' music was extraordinary and unprecedented and the rest, whatever his or her opinion of its quality.


When I wrote that, I was skirting round a more ambitious proposal I had in mind, which is this: 

music isn't in itself well-suited to being remembered, but narratives of the development of music are.
So the most solidly canonical musicians are anchored in wider popular and cultural memory more by the overall story of how their music progressed, than by the form and content of the music itself.
Acts with long and varied careers are more likely to have a historical development in their music, and this is one reason why bands the canon is made up of bands like the Beatles.
Let me expand this a little bit more before you heave a weary sigh. 

First of all - music isn't suited to memory. A patently absurd statement, on first view, given the ease with which melodies stick in our minds. But there are many good reasons to argue that music has poor memetic qualities. It isn't very portable, in the sense that it can't easily be adduced in forms of discourse by means of paraphrase or quotation and the like. The only way to experience a song is to hear it, in its single, irreducible form - a hummed version isn't the 'same' as the original to any great extent, and excerpting is unsatisfactory.


However, five different people could come up with five completely different ways of saying 'mid-era Beatles used a range of instrumentation' and 'late-era Beatles made extensive use of arpeggios' but they would still be telling the same story, to a considerable extent.


Moreover they could do it in written or spoken form. Music is not paraphrasable, or retellable, whereas a story of music is. If a musical canon is something constructed by discussing music, then entry into the canon must be easier for music that is more easily resolved into the stuff of discourse (the stuff of discourse being e.g. narratives, arguments, etc.).


Music has relatively little value as a mnemonic - there are of course jingles ('Remember, remember, the fifth of November') but the mnemonic element here is rhyme and metre, not melody. And the same is true, it is said, for the beginnings of poetry itself - it was a way of coding important information into an easily remembered form.


Narrative is much more amenable to transmission and discussion because, I suppose, of its semantic content which transcends the particularities of form - it can be scrambled and revamped, but still mean the same thing. Because of this, then, the big beasts of the musical canon are guaranteed their place not just because their melodies etc. were memorable, but because the collective story they made up is even more memorable. Narrative and argument are the same stuff history is made of - melody and harmony are not.


I'm not saying that the stories of band members, and what they did or didn't do with groupies/TV sets/red snappers etc., is what grants canonical status - but even then, it cant hurt.


Some (really not very convincing) examples:

Beatles (see earlier post)
Rolling Stones - Blues band, then go poppy, then invent their quintessential sound during the
1968-72 purple patch.
James Brown - invents funk 1965; invents it again in 1971.
Fleetwood Mac - start off all bluesy, then become all grown-up.
Pink Floyd - all psychadelic, until Syd goes mental.
David Bowie - etc.
Is this a thing, or not? 

Monday, 4 November 2013

The Beatles

Kate has most of the Beatles' albums on her iPod, which means you can see all of the songs in one big list. It is a reminder of just what an extraordinary career they had - not just that they maintained the level of quality and never really dipped, but that they did so while constantly innovating, constantly taking huge risks, and, most impressively, constantly just working.

I realize that, for some, expressing a love of the Beatles is a rather bland, anodyne non-statement that hugs the mainstream so closely ('everybody likes the Beatles!') as to attest no real discernment. But this is fatuous and self-regarding - who is so pettily narcissistic to imagine that their own taste constitutes an interesting statement in itself? The music produced by the Beatles is far more interesting than the fact of my liking them and someone else not. 

And my reasons for liking them could well be bizarre and outlandish, and far from 'mainstream' appreciation, whatever that is - I'll not have my reasons imputed for me. Especially not by some sneering bloody hipster.

The quality or value of the Beatles' output can nevertheless be contested; but even then, there is no arguing that their musical development (admittedly at a time when everyone and everything else was changing rapidly too) was just extraordinary. Consider:

March 1963      Love Me Do 
July 1964           Hard Day’s Night 
August 1965     You’ve got to Hide your Love Away 
Dec. 1965           Norwegian Wood; Drive My Car 
August 1966     Eleanor Rigby; Tomorrow Never Knows; She Said She Said 
June 1967          A Day in the Life; Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds 
Nov. 1968          Dear Prudence; Happiness is a Warm Gun; Everybody’s got Something to Hide (Except for me and my Monkey) 
Sept. 1969         Come Together; Medley; Something

So they managed to go from Love Me Do (yeah, yeah, yeah - oooooh) to the dark and utterly unique Come Together in just over six years. In just three years they went from Can't Buy me Love and And I Love Her to A Day in the Life. A further two and a bit years later and they were at the lush, extraordinarily new sound of Abbey Rd, thereby kickstarting the seventies before Father Time had got round to it.

Contrast Oasis, a band once (laughably) compared to the Beatles by Britain's execrable rock journalists: Definitely Maybe in August 1997 and then burnt out a mere three years later with the leaden monstrosity that was Be Here Now.

The question now is how many of the 'landmark' songs I chose above were John songs and how many Paul's.