It’s a lie wrapped in a joke wrapped in a mystery. Slick claimed in her autobiography Somebody to Love? that the rumor started in the hospital shortly after her daughter was born in 1971. A nurse came in with a birth certificate, and seeing a crucifix around her neck, Slick decided to offend and upset her, simply because she was a Catholic and Slick was more a nihilist than a hippie. When asked what her child’s name to go on the birth certificate would be, Slick told the nurse, “god. We spell it with a small g because we want her to be humble.” From then, Slick says, the nurse quickly called the San Francisco Chronicle with news of this terrible, terrible heathen, which set forth into the world one of the most famous urban legends in music history.
But no way could it possibly be true that the woman who sang “White Rabbit” went on to sing generic movie love songs to mannequins.
Most popular songs say they are about love, but are really about bonin’. The rest are explicitly about bonin’. There are only a handful of others, really. …Juvenile-onset diabetes: Jonas Brothers, “A Little Bit Longer” Not a reference to the fleeting fame of the teen pop group, but to lead singer Nick Jonas, recalling the terrible day when he was hospitalized and diagnosed for type 1 diabetes having to wait “a little bit longer” to go home, and then also to wait for a cure for diabetes. This song, the exact opposite of “Party in the USA,” is about a child getting diagnosed with a chronic disease, so I guess the ability and willingness to cover extremely sad and depressing topics separates the Jonas Brothers from their cookie-cutter Radio Disney peers.
…The World TeamTennis League: Elton John, “Philadelphia Freedom” It’s not about patriotism or America. Nor should it be; Elton John is British and therefore hates America. “Philadelphia Freedom” is literally about the Philadelphia Freedom, a team led on the court in its inaugural 1974 season by John’s friend, tennis star Billie Jean King. The World TeamTennis league, a league in which members of a team take turns playing tennis against a team of other tennis players in front of a paying, supporting crowd, is actually still around. No, really.
…Manual release: Billy Squier, “The Stroke” Like I said: all of the songs are about bonin’, and every possible angle on bonin’ has been covered over and over again, like a man covering a lady while they are bonin’. There are lots of songs about intercourse, a few about secondary sexual acts, and lots about kissing and making out. The seldom-discussed HJ, however, gets one song in its honor, written and performed by the guy who’s as seldom-discussed as settled for as an HJ, Billy Squier.
In which I resolve music’s most frequent and highly debated debates. Arguments are laid out, given points, and decisions made. It’s science. Today: which group is the best, objectively speaking: gurls from California (per Katy Perry), gurls of or relating to September (per Big Star), or girls from the South (per Cheap Trick)?
California Gurls
Wear daisy dukes, bikini tops+ 2
Undeniable+ 1
Fine, fresh, fierce+ 3
Skin at a consistently high temperature so as to be able to melt popsicles – 5
Total: 1 points
September Gurls
Do so much+ 3
Are touched– 2
Makes things right late at night+ 3
Total: 4 points
Southern Girls
Got a way with their words+ 3
Will never run away+ 2
Make it hard+ 2
Rock a person+ 3
Are crazy– 5
Total: 5 points
Verdict: Despite some significant shortcomings (such as mental illness), the weight of character and personality of a southern girl beats the conscientiousness of a September gurl, as well as the sexiness of a California gurl, who, like her counterpart, cannot spell, but who also boasts of a serious, life-threatening skin condition.
Clockwise, from top left: Bret, Rikki, Bobby, C.C.Most major bands that break up eventually reunite—it’s the law of attraction, or maybe it’s the law of attention and feeling bad for the drummer who never had much of a solo career and is broke. The band that most famously never reunited is the most famous band overall. Except that the Beatles did get back together, in various nd sundry permutations after their acrimonious split in 1970, and quite a few times at that.
A Toot and a Snore in ‘74 (1974) John and Paul were very hot and very cold with each other in the 1970s, alternately sniping at each other in the press, or hanging out in each other’s apartments watching Saturday Night Live the night Lorne Michaels made his offer to have the Beatles reunite on the show for $3,000, an idea they entertained by nearly going down to 30 Rock, but ultimately deciding against it. They even recorded some stuff together—once.
March 28, 1974, fell right in the middle of Lennon’s two-year-long lost weekend in which he and Yoko Ono split up, and he fled to Los Angeles to drink heavily and jam with his famous musician friends to deal with the stress of both a possible divorce and deportation due to old drug charges. This period ultimately led to his Rock and Roll covers album, but in March 1974 he was producing Harry Nilsson’s Pussy Cats in a Burbank studio. That’s when Paul and Linda McCartney dropped by, unannounced.
According to accounts by the witnesses that day (including Stevie Wonder and Lennon’s temporary girlfriend May Pang), a hush fell over the room as the rock star collective waited to see if this was a good John/Paul day or a bad John/Paul day. Lennon then piped up with, “Valiant Paul McCartney, I presume?” To which McCartney retorted, “Sir Jasper Lennon, I presume.” The mood remained difficult to ascertain to everyone besides these two, but it was fine—the exchange was an inside joke. The names were characters the two had played in a sketch on a TV special in 1962. The two shook hands, and before long, a jam session was underway. Lennon took guitar and lead vocals, while McCartney harmonized and played the drums. (Among the others, Wonder sang and played piano, and Linda McCartney took the organ. May Pang grabbed a tambourine.)
A bootleg of the session surfaced in 1992, and the title, A Toot and a Snore in ’74 comes from the fact that Lennon repeatedly keeps asking for and offering a “toot” of what is most certainly cocaine, and because it’s boring. The 26-and-a-half minute recording isn’t great, apart from its historical significance. It’s mostly studio chatter and Lennon fighting with his headphones and playing with audio levels. But they do knock out parts of “Stand By Me” and “Sleep Walk.”
Ringo (1974) Ringo’s third album Ringo is also his bestselling. That has to have something to do with the fact that all three other Beatles contributed to it, but never all four at the same time. So it’s a Beatles reunion in which all of the Beatles are present, but also Beatles-shaped ships passing in the night.
• The leadoff track, “I’m the Greatest,” was written by John Lennon. He also plays piano and sings harmony, accompanied by George Harrison on guitar. Even fifth Beatle Billy Preston contributes organ. The only one missing here is Paul.
• “Photograph,” a #1 hit, has Harrison on guitar and extremely prominent harmony. Harrison and Starr together wrote this melancholy song about fondly remembering the way things used to be.
• A cover of the creepy and lecherous ‘50s pop song “You’re Sixteen” also hit #1. Paul McCartney plays kazoo and sings background.
• “Six O’Clock” is a McCartney original, and the writer plays piano, synthesizer, sings backup, and also wrote up the string and flute arrangements.
• Album closer “You and Me Babe” was co-written by Harrison, and he plays guitar on it, too.
Continuing into the ‘70s and ‘80s, Ringo perpetually got by with a lot of help from his friends. Forever the butt of the joke, forever and probably rightfully the fourth most popular or fourth-most regarded Beatle, there was nary a Ringo project that didn’t include a heavy hand from Paul, George, and/or John. They’ve always seemed to treat him a bit like a little brother who needs a place to stay to get back on his feet, honestly for the last time this time, guys. Among the other handouts: each of the other Beatles wrote a song for his 1976 album Ringo’s Rotogravure, Harrison produced and co-wrote Ringo’s 1971 hit “It Don’t Come Easy,” Lennon made him the drummer in the Plastic Ono Band, and Harrison and McCartney were responsible for a combined half of Ringo’s 1981 album Stop and Smell the Roses.
“All Those Years Ago” (1981) In 1980, George Harrison wrote “All Those Years Ago” as a nostalgic, at-peace look back at his days in the Beatles, and as an extra-gesture of Beatlesness, wanted Ringo to sing it. They made a demo, but Ringo didn’t think the song suited his range, and that the lyrics needed work. So, Harrison reworked it and sang it his own damn self, recording it November 1980…with Ringo on drums and backing vocals. And then, of course, John Lennon was horrifyingly murdered just a couple of weeks later. That prompted Harrison to rewrite the song so it was more of a memorial for Lennon specifically, and rerecorded his vocal track (and dropping Ringo’s backing tracks). Subbing in new background vocals: Paul McCartney. The only real post-Beatles recording featuring three Beatles (in tribute to the fallen fourth), the song reached #2 in the U.S., kept out of the top spot by Kim Carnes’ “Bette Davis Eyes.”
“Free as a Bird” and “Real Love” (1995-96) Obviously, there could never be a true Beatles reunion because John Lennon had been killed in 1980, and you can’t have a Beatles reunion without John. Without Ringo, absolutely, but without John? Inconceivable. But it’ll do. Two new Beatles songs, a high-profile, highly-publicized for-profit project featuring, in some capacity, all four members of the Beatles (even John, through studio trickery) more than 25 years after their breakup, should have been the biggest pop culture event since the Beatles broke up 25 years earlier. Instead, it was ill-received, commercially disappointing, and vaguely depressing.
“Free as a Bird” and “Real Love” began as partially-finished John Lennon demo recordings. Note that these were never intended to be recorded by the Beatles—these were Lennon’s songs. They were also never intended to be fully recorded or released at all, as evidenced by the fact that Lennon never finished them; “Free as a Bird” was a scratchy, incomplete demo from 1977, and “Real Love” was demoed half a dozen times in 1979 and 1980.
When the surviving Beatles were compiling video and audio material for the documentary Anthology and the subsequent three-volume rarities collection, they asked Lennon’s widow Yoko Ono for any unused Lennon songs. She gave them the scraps of “Free as a Bird,” and the recordings of “Real Love,” which had actually already been used in the 1988 documentary Imagine: John Lennon. The surviving Beatles recruited ELO headmaster and producer Jeff Lynne (who’d worked with Harrison in the Travelling Wilburys) to make something out of the very raw material. The end result: two overproduced, super-compressed multi-tracked, vocally addled (to make up for John’s poor quality vocals) songs that sound not like Beatles songs, nor ‘90s rock songs, but like minor ELO hits from the mid-‘80s.
“Free as a Bird” debuted and peaked at #5 out of the sheer idea of a new Beatles song existing. It quickly fell off the charts. “Real Love” debuted and peaked at #10, then continued to fall. Not bad objectively, but shockingly weak considering the pent up demand and foregone conclusion of three decades that the Beatles would never record music together again. No more Lennon tracks happened to resurface after that. Linda McCartney’s Memorial Service (1998) Paul’s beloved wife and Wings band mate (be nice) Linda McCartney died after a long battle from breast cancer in June 1998. A private memorial service was held in 1998 for around 700 of McCartney’s family, friends, and supporters. No cameras were used out of respect during the event, as is the case with all funerals, and this was years before surreptitious cell phone cameras. Otherwise, there would be footage of what had to have been a deeply moving and remarkable event: Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, and George Harrison all spontaneously gathered in front of the congregation and led them in the singing of the hymn-like Beatles ballad “Let It Be.” Linda McCartney had sang backup on the song when it was originally recorded in 1970. It was one of just two Beatles songs Linda worked on; the other was “Birthday,” but that wouldn’t have been very appropriate to sing at her funeral.
A new feature in which I resolve music’s most frequent and highly debated debates. Arguments are laid out, given points, and decisions made. It’s science. Who’s the more acceptable long-term mate, as far as unattainable early ’80s pop-rock dream girls go: the best friend’s girl from the Cars’ “My Best Friend’s Girl” or Jessie’s girl from Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl”?
The girl from “My Best Friend’s Girl”
Is always dancing down the street+ 1
Has blue suede eyes+ 3
Often dances beneath the starry sky+ 2
Will make you flip– 1
She dips in a pleasing fashion+ 1
Previous unfortunate romantic entanglement– 3
Possesses nuclear boots, drip dry glove+ 5
Total:8 points
Jessie’s girl from “Jessie’s Girl”
Has those eyes + 1
Has that body, with which she is lovin’ on Jessie+ 3
Likes to be held late, late at night+ 1
Talks cute– 1
Impervious to humor, cool lines– 5
Total:– 9 points
Verdict: The “My Best Friend’s Girl” girl, because even though she is your best friend’s girl and used to be yours, she is still by far still a superior choice to the equally unattainable “Jessie’s Girl.”
Grace Slick, 