“The Long And Winding Road” by the Beatles (from “Let It Be”)
Capitol
The Beatles are generally regarded as rock ’n’ roll’s greatest band, and Phil Spector was arguably its greatest producer. So how did bringing them together result in one of the most cloying moments in either party’s career? As the world would learn a quarter century later with the release of the Beatles’ “Anthology” outtakes collections, “The Long And Winding Road” is actually quite nice in its stripped-down form; maybe not one of the band’s best but certainly not the horrifically overproduced monstrosity found on “Let It Be.” Spector, clearly operating in the same mode as his uber-creepy “Silent Night” recitation at the end of his otherwise-classic Christmas album, drenched the song in strings and a choir so saccharine that the Beatles needed to end the album, their swan song, with the simple, bracing palate-cleanser of “Get Back” to remind the world of what it was about to lose forever.
Capitol
The Beatles are generally regarded as rock ’n’ roll’s greatest band, and Phil Spector was arguably its greatest producer. So how did bringing them together result in one of the most cloying moments in either party’s career? As the world would learn a quarter century later with the release of the Beatles’ “Anthology” outtakes collections, “The Long And Winding Road” is actually quite nice in its stripped-down form; maybe not one of the band’s best but certainly not the horrifically overproduced monstrosity found on “Let It Be.” Spector, clearly operating in the same mode as his uber-creepy “Silent Night” recitation at the end of his otherwise-classic Christmas album, drenched the song in strings and a choir so saccharine that the Beatles needed to end the album, their swan song, with the simple, bracing palate-cleanser of “Get Back” to remind the world of what it was about to lose forever.“My World” by Guns N’ Roses (from “Use Your Illusion II”)
Geffen Records
Guns N’ Roses’ plan of following up one of the landmark debuts of the 1980s — simultaneously releasing two albums that would have both been doubles in the age of vinyl — was, on the face of it, insane. But despite “Use Your Illusion II” being slightly wobbly (with the name-calling tantrum in the middle of “Get In The Ring,” an inferior second version of “Don’t Cry” and bassist Duff McKagen’s lackluster “So Fine”), there was surprisingly little chaff in what was effectively four albums’ worth of material. It looked like GN’R was going to pull off the whole mess, right up until the final 84 seconds, when Axl Rose decided to rap and everything fell apart in one laughable, deeply stupid instant. If “My World” was a joke, it was funny for all the wrong reasons. And if it wasn’t, then maybe we can keep waiting for “Chinese Democracy.”
Geffen Records
Guns N’ Roses’ plan of following up one of the landmark debuts of the 1980s — simultaneously releasing two albums that would have both been doubles in the age of vinyl — was, on the face of it, insane. But despite “Use Your Illusion II” being slightly wobbly (with the name-calling tantrum in the middle of “Get In The Ring,” an inferior second version of “Don’t Cry” and bassist Duff McKagen’s lackluster “So Fine”), there was surprisingly little chaff in what was effectively four albums’ worth of material. It looked like GN’R was going to pull off the whole mess, right up until the final 84 seconds, when Axl Rose decided to rap and everything fell apart in one laughable, deeply stupid instant. If “My World” was a joke, it was funny for all the wrong reasons. And if it wasn’t, then maybe we can keep waiting for “Chinese Democracy.”
“Endless, Nameless” by Nirvana (from “Nevermind”)
Geffen Records
From the instant Nirvana blew up huge, Kurt Cobain always had an antagonistic relationship with his own mass popularity. Nowhere is that more evident than on metallic grunge jam “Endless, Nameless,” the all-too-appropriately named hidden track that closed out “Nevermind.” The tuneless, freeform scree didn’t appear on every copy; those who were lucky enough to snatch up one of the first 50,000 before Nirvanamania went mainstream didn’t just find themselves with a collector’s item, they got a far better album. For everybody else who jumped onto the train after “Smells Like Teen Spirit” hit the top 40, the beautiful-bummer vibe created by the tellingly morose official closer “Something In The Way” was shattered by an unlistenable barrage of interminable cacophony. If you could hear it, Cobain hated you.
Geffen Records
From the instant Nirvana blew up huge, Kurt Cobain always had an antagonistic relationship with his own mass popularity. Nowhere is that more evident than on metallic grunge jam “Endless, Nameless,” the all-too-appropriately named hidden track that closed out “Nevermind.” The tuneless, freeform scree didn’t appear on every copy; those who were lucky enough to snatch up one of the first 50,000 before Nirvanamania went mainstream didn’t just find themselves with a collector’s item, they got a far better album. For everybody else who jumped onto the train after “Smells Like Teen Spirit” hit the top 40, the beautiful-bummer vibe created by the tellingly morose official closer “Something In The Way” was shattered by an unlistenable barrage of interminable cacophony. If you could hear it, Cobain hated you.
credits to: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24034572/
No comments:
Post a Comment