Well, Boys and Girls, Cowboys and Indians, welcome to Song of The Week 53. Yes, indeed, we’re starting our second year, and isn’t that amazing? How time flies when you’re having fun. And indeed, I am.
Our list is constantly growing, and we’re real happy about that. Please do recommend us to your friends, neighbors and Roman countrymen. We’re especially pleased about all the comments we get, and we try to respond to each and every one. Please, do write to comment on the content of a posting, to argue with it, or to tell us what sort of posts you prefer (the more familiar/obscure, objective/personal).
So to celebrate our first birthday, two gifts for y’all. First a news flash: The blog of SoTW should be up very soon. It’s in its 10th month of pregnancy (fanning rumors that it’s been hanging around with a certain elephant), but it should be public within a couple of weeks. And secondly, to mark this momentous anniversary, we’ve naturally chosen a SoTW reflecting on The Meaning of Life.
The Beatles, ‘In My Life’
I have a lot of trouble listening to The Beatles. I can’t begin to guess how many times I’ve heard each recording. Five hundred? A thousand? Two thousand? But I do know that my ears are inured to the music, rendered deaf by familiarity. There was a period when I’d try to listen obliquely—with headphones, volume cranked way up to hear every crinkle in the voice, one channel of the stereo version. But for decades now, I listen to The Beatles infrequently.
Even the new remastered boxed set. I have listened to some, and yes, it really is remarkable, the cleanliness and clarity. But the intimate familiarity with the music is so much stronger than the new light being shed that again, it’s not new enough for me to really hear it. Every note is hardwired into my brain. On occasion I’ll play a song in my brain, sort of like a portable jukebox. “Hey, how about ‘Not a Second Time’?” Press B13 in the temporal lobe, there it is. A 2:12 aural clip inside my head, just like on the record.
So all we can do most days is to take a step back. ‘In My Life’ is one of my favorite songs on one of my favorite albums (“Rubber Soul”, the American version). I’m not unique in this. Rolling Stone ranked it 23rd in its list of “The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time“. In a 2000 Mojo magazine poll it was voted the best song of all time by a panel of songwriters which included Paul McCartney, Brian Wilson, Lamont Dozier, and Carole King.
The song was recorded on October 18, 1965. Lennon sings it, double-tracked. They left the middle part empty, and John asked George Martin to play a piano solo, suggesting “something Baroque-sounding”. Martin wrote a quasi-Bach line that he found he could not play at the song’s tempo. On 22 October, the solo was recorded at half-tempo (one octave lower) and tape speed was doubled for the final recording, solving the performance challenge and giving the piano solo a unique, harpsichord-like timbre.
According to John’s old pal and biographer Pete Shotton, the lines “Some are dead and some are living/In my life I’ve loved them all” referred to Beatle Stuart Sutcliffe (who died in 1962) and to Shotton himself. [In the picture here, you can see an unknown girl, Cynthia, Nigel Wally, Aunt Mimi, John and Pete Shotton (right)]. But for us, it has become the anthem of nostalgia, the emblem of wistful reminiscence. Ironically, though, John rejects a maudlin clinging to the past. What in fact matters is his new love, the lover addressed in the song, she who is real, alive and present. That may not be profound, but it sure is heartfelt and moving.
According to McCartney, it’s one of only two songs whose authorship he and John disagreed about. John says he wrote it all (except for the piano solo), McCartney says he wrote most of the music. The other disputed song is ‘Eleanor Rigby’, which John said he had a hand in writing.
But of course it’s John’s song, through and through. I’m not a big fan of any of Lennon’s solo music, and I don’t understand why people would play ‘Imagine’ or ‘Workingclass Hero’ on his yahrzeit. John’s music died when The Beatles broke up. (If you think that’s cruel or harsh, it was John who said, “Elvis died in the army”). ‘In My Life’ is quintessential John. It’s what he’s all about– melodic and passionate and naked.
Lest I wax soppy, let me add that I’ve always thought that The Beatles misinterpreted this song. One of two cases (the other being ‘Help’) where an introspective song was revved up (and cheapened) to be better suited for AM radio. ‘In My Life’ is way too fast, too noisy, too choppy (Ringo at his worst with his boomachukka drums and intrusive cymbals).
Strange as it seems, I’ve always felt that this song was really nailed by a singer I don’t have too much admiration or respect for, Judy Collins. In 1966 she made an album called “In My Life”, which was quite groundbreaking at the time for the megahit version of gravelly newcomer Leonard Cohen’s ‘Suzanne’, and for its terrific covers of Richard Farina’s ‘Hard Loving Loser’, Dylan’s ‘Tom Thumb’s Blues’, Donavan’s ‘Sunny Goodge Street’, and especially the then-unknown Randy Newman’s ‘I Think It’s Going to Rain Today’. Hard to realize today, but giving ‘pretty’ renditions to Dylan, to Cohen and to The Beatles wasn’t at all common. Her versions are very respectable, and hers was one of my first encounters with Randy Newman (way before his first album). But she was really on the mark with ‘In My Life’ (attached here). She captures perfectly the gentleness of Lennon’s composition, which the Beatles quite miss. Here’s her very lovely version.
But despite that, our SoTW is of course The Beatles. They’re the masters, the ones who created the soundtrack of our youth. And even when they’re a little off the mark, they are the monoliths.
None of ‘us’ can listen to the song, look at a picture of John Lennon, and not shed a tear inside. In Gerard Manley Hopkins’ “Spring and Fall”, a ‘young child’ named Margaret is weeping at the sight of falling leaves, too young to understand the source of “sorrow’s springs”. Hopkins tells us, “It is Margaret you mourn for.” So when we weep at this song, we’re weeping for our losses, our irretrievable past. But if we really take the song seriously, we should focus on the ones we’re with, the ones we love.
There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain.
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends
I still can recall.
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I’ve loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
there is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new.
Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more.