Lennon and more...

John Lennon - Plastic Ono Band

Look at me, what am I supposed to be?

Plastic Ono Band may not be eulogized with the same fervor as some Beatles recordings, however it remains one of the most bold, iconoclastic albums in rock and roll history. Lennon was reacting against everything possible on this LP, from Paul McCartney to his deceased mother, from God to the plush acoustics of Abbey Road, and he strips everything to its core. Lyrics were efficient, instrumentation was sparse, and Yoko's influence is (fortunately) almost totally absent.
Much time has been spent deconstructing the lyrics of the album, the fury and desperation that encircled Lennon, and three decades later, Plastic Ono Band continues to justify such attention. The one-word-title songs, "Mother," "Isolation," "Remember," "Love," and especially "God," represent songs that are not merely insular, they're self-absorbed in the best way. This album is therapy for Lennon, and his confessional words saturate so much that sometimes the listener squirms like an involuntary eavesdropper. John's best work is personal, not political, but the biting "Working Class Hero" is one of his greatest achievements. It focuses on one man and then expands, in the tradition of the song's clear predecessor, Bob Dylan. (In "God," Lennon sings, "I don't believe in Zimmerman." Really?)

As with most great music, how Lennon sings is just as important is what he is singing. Phil Spector produced Ono in conjunction with John and Yoko, but you'd never know it. Lennon's voice is seemingly effect-free, and the only immediately apparent sound manipulations are echo and reverb to add credence and tension. The lack of typical Spector kitchen-sink production methods is obvious - no dual guitar arrangements, certainly no layered orchestral affairs - suggest that Lennon held jurisdiction over the studio. Lennon was going back to his roots musically as well as emotionally on this album and his cathartic release translates into a classic.
http://www.filefactory.com/get/f.php?f=33ba52fba5610f2e89fe6580


http://www.filefactory.com/get/v3/f2.php?f=a34d2832209b9827aa3ab57a


The Hold Steady - Separation Sunday (this album is a revelation)
http://rapidshare.de/files/10855560/The_Hold_Steady_-_Seperation_Sunday.zip.html

Kasier Chiefs - Employment hooks galore)
http://www.megaupload.com/pt/?d=39PSNQV6

Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am Thats What I'm Not (rocks your face off)
http://www.megaupload.com/nl/?d=BM0WKDR8

Gang Starr - Step in the Arena (this album reminds me of a few things: 1) A trip to the outer banks, where my cousin introduced me to Guru and DJ Primo 2) skateboarding in DC at Freedom Plaza 3)me getting dumped in 8th grade by Miriam Rutledge and playing "Ex Girl to the Next Girl" and then like it was no biggie)
http://www.megaupload.com/nl/?d=36GXH6O5

One last little comment on James Frey. I managed to sneak a few minutes of his stammering ass on Larry King last night and let me say - his editor must have been brilliant because he surely is not. While stuttering through his pathetically vague and indecipherable explanation of why he was never honest about his OWN LIFE STORY in A Million Little Pieces, I was tempted to kick my own ass for wasting my time reading his book. At least I a) I didn't buy a copy, and b) didn't believe most of what I read in the first place.

On the other hand, I have purchased and read two of JT LeRoy's works and raved about them to friends only to read in NY Magazine that JT Leroy was an elaborate hoax. Now, I can't explain why, but I am not nearly as upset by this as I am about the Frey debacle. Leroy's writing was the most tortured, horrific, and disturbing material I ever put my hands on, and it was so cringe-inducing at times that I had to put it down and take a break during readings. Needless to say, I emotionally invested in his work. You would think that I would feel betrayed, but I don't. Maybe it is because there were four people working in concert to accomplish the hoax, rather than a lone gunman flying solo abed a carpet of lies... maybe it is because JT Leroy has always been such a mystery that it wasn't entirely a surprise that he in fact was a she from Brooklyn with no documented history of being a homeless teenage truck stop prostitute in West Virginia who experienced the most depraved forms of physical and sexual abuses... maybe it is just the 1.77 million copies of A Million Little Lies that Frey sold in 2005 that pisses me off so much. Frey is a worthless prick.