The 500 - #142 - A Christmas Gift For You - Phil Spector

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

---

Album: #142
Album Title: A Christmas Gift For You
Artist: Phil Spector
Genre: Traditional Christmas Songs, 60s Pop
Recorded: Gold Star Studios, Los Angeles
Released: November, 1963
My age at release: Not Born
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple songs
Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: 

This is a double-shot week on The 500 Blog with album #142, A Christmas Gift For You, arriving a few days after I hit publish on record #129, Remain In Light, by Talking Heads. I skipped this holiday record back in September because it wasn’t Christmas, and I wasn’t ready for sleigh bells in my headphones when I could still take a dip in Lake Erie.

But this week? I’m loving it. These songs are pure joy. A sparkling collection of “evergreen hits” that never age. Note to all aspiring songwriters: If you’re going to write one smash single, make it a Christmas song. It’ll pay you (and your estate) forever -- just ask Hugh Grant’s character in About a Boy. Anyone adding Santa’s Super Sleigh to their playlist this year?

There was a time, in my late-twenties, when I was a bit of a Scrooge about Christmas music. I wanted nothing to do with sleigh bells, jolly holly or crooners. As the holiday season rolled in, I’d cue up anything but Christmas songs. And I’ll admit, I had a little antipathy for those folks (you know who you are) who start decking the halls in late October. The pumpkin’s still on the porch, you’re knee-deep in leftover Halloween candy, and the shlocky Christmas tunes are blasting on repeat? Bah, humbug! I refuse to even think about Saint Nick or the Baby Jesus until after watching the Turkey Bowl football games on American Thanksgiving.

My peccadilloes have, as with many things, softened with time. I still like my Christmas music in December, but give an obligatory "thumbs-up" on Facebook when social media friends post their decorated mantle while the World Series is still on -- baby steps, I know.

For the past decade, I’ve been hooked on the silly social media game called Whamageddon. If you haven’t heard of it, the rules are simple -- Avoid hearing Wham!’s Last Christmas from December 1 until Christmas Eve. If you hear it, you’re out. Simple, but a comical distraction from the madness of the holidays. My students have become obsessed, too. When December rolls around they are excited to share dramatic tales of being banished to Whamhalla after those first unmistakable synth notes hit.

My record? six wins and three losses.. I’m winning again this year… but honestly, I kind of like losing. The story you get, the risk of walking into a store with holiday tunes piping in, it’s all part of the fun.

Plus, if you lose, you get to hear that delightful holiday banger early. And I love it for so many reasons. Lesser known among them is that songwriter/singer George Michael donated all its royalties to Ethiopian hunger relief when the song was released in 1984. In a strange bit of irony, he’d have been jailed in that country for being gay. Tragically, we also lost his talent on Christmas Day, 2016, at only 53.

Gem that he was, Michael's commitment to donating all profits from Last Christmas has become a long-term tradition. Each year since its release, the royalties have continued to support hunger relief efforts around the world through the George Michael Fund, distributing proceeds to multiple charities close to his heart.

Holy Holiday distractions! Let's get back to Phil Spector His A Christmas Gift For You sparkles, even if the man behind it was, as I’ve said before in these blog posts, a reprehensible human being. But the record? It’s a time capsule of joy. It features some of the best female vocalists of the ‘60s, including Darlene Love, The Ronettes and The Crystals, bringing magic to the holiday season.

So, yeah, I've retired my grumpy-pants Scrooge routine and I am embracing all of the holiday hits...as long as it is December.

Happy Holidays to you all and thank you for supporting my blog posts this year.

The 500 - #392 - Let It Be - The Beatles

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

Album # 392

Album Title: Let It Be
Artist: The Beatles
Genre:  Rock
Recorded: 1968-1970 Apple, EMI, Twickenham Studios
Released: May, 1970
My age at release: 4
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Two of Us 

Let It Be Album Cover - The Beatles (1970)

It is a testament to a band's greatness that a record forged in frustration, resentment, addiction, skepticism and even abandonment would find its way to The 500 Greatest Albums list. Such is the case with Let It Be, the twelfth and final studio release from The Beatles.  

In 1969, the glue that had kept the four Liverpool lads together for the previous nine years was beginning to come undone. Each member was now married, or in a relationship. They were exhausted from touring and, by 1967, had resigned themselves to be a "studio-only" band. Ringo and John were both battling addictions -- heroin for John and a combination of alcohol and cocaine for Ringo. 

Ringo with first wife, Maureen Cox  and
John with second wife, Yoko Ono (1969)

George had "left" the group, not formerly but certainly mentally and emotionally. A visit to the United States and time spent with Bob Dylan had helped him realize that music could be created communally. This was in contrast to the domineering style of Lennon and McCartney, who controlled most of the songwriting and the group's creative direction.

Harrison and Dylan (1968)

Additionally, the band had been rudderless since the suicide of their manager, Brian Epstein, two years earlier. Despite Paul's objection, Lennon had convinced the band to hire Allen Klein, who came with a tough, but dubious, reputation.

Allen Klein (center) signing The Beatles

In a final bid to help the band members bond again, Paul proposed that a film crew document their rehearsals and song-writing sessions. It was his hope that this would revive the positive energy of live performances without the tedium of touring. The experiment was short-lived and the experience was filled with acrimony. Harrison's suggestions were, again, ignored. Consequently, much of the material he wrote later appeared on his first solo album, All Things Must Pass (#433 on The 500 List). Clearly, this demonstrated that there was quality in Harrison's work.

Interestingly, many of the song ideas work-shopped by Lennon and McCartney would also appear on their solo efforts. It was clear that all of the members were in Beatle-break-up-mode. Lennon, deep in heroin addiction, was always flanked by his partner, Yoko Ono -- who is often blamed (unfairly) with breaking up The Beatles. Lennon was a shell of his former self and prone to loud arguments -- most often with Harrison.

John and Yoko (1969)

Ringo, who at the height of his addiction, consumed a staggering 16 bottles of wine a day. He was kept buoyant by what his former wife, Maureen, described as "mountains of cocaine". Ringo was unable to perform when drunk and unmotivated to perform when sober (which was seldom). It was a poorly kept secret that McCartney recorded some drum tracks himself. Ringo, also mired in addiction, pretended not to notice.

An uncompromising schedule and long hours in the studio began to take its toll on the four lads. It became apparent to filmmakers that they were documenting a band falling apart. The picture below, taken during these sessions and later parodied in an episode of The Simpsons, captured their emotional exhaustion.

The Beatles would not officially dissolve for another year due to financial obligations. The recordings from these sessions, and their live performance on the rooftop of Apple Studios, eventually found their way to sound engineer Phil Spector who overhauled the songs, adding his own orchestrations.

As Lennon put it: 

"Phil was given the shittiest load of badly recorded shit, with a lousy feeling to it, and he made something of it."

Despite all of this, the record was a commercial hit, going to number one on the charts. However, critical reviews were mixed in 1970 but over time it has been acclaimed and several songs have become Beatles' classics. In 2003, McCartney remastered the record and released it under the moniker Let It Be...Naked. This alternative mix removed Spector's embellishments and captured, according to McCartney, "the stripped-down aesthetic" intended by the group.

Let it Be...Naked album cover (2003)

As a teenager, I owned a copy of the original LP on vinyl and was unaware of the backstory behind it. I knew it was their last release and, like many, blamed Yoko for the group's dissolution. It was easy to make her a scapegoat without understanding that group dynamics are complex, particularly when creative frustrations and addictions are involved. 

I had a tough time deciding what to put on my Spotify "The 500 Playlist". In the end, I settled on Two of Us because of a lyric that always makes me think of my wife. 

"The two of us have memories, longer than the road that stretches out ahead."

Like all great poetry, it is a line that resonates with me, creating powerful and conflicting emotions. I wistfully reflect on 34 years with a beautiful lady who adores me, while being reminded that we'll share a limited time on the road ahead.