Format: Vinyl (2 LP's)
Released: March 23rd, 1978
Label: Polydor Records
Genre: Pop
Running Time: 83:08
Released: March 23rd, 1978
Label: Polydor Records
Genre: Pop
Running Time: 83:08
At first glance, choosing the soundtrack to the much-maligned Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band musical for the first review may seem a little odd -- and it definitely is -- but it actually fits in perfectly with my mission for this blog. This record is the perfect marriage of the sublime and the ridiculous. I think any true music fan has equal parts of masterpieces and flops in his or her collection. Sure, you could just go by what Rolling Stone or Pitchfork tells you is good -- and you'd probably have a pretty decent collection that way -- but what fun is that? Part of the joy of being a music fan is the trial and error of it all. Finding that one gem in a musical world full of tripe makes it all worth it, does it not?
It's not entirely certain how much cocaine was consumed in order to come up with the vision for this album, but you can tell it was a shitload. The Bee Gees and Peter Frampton play the parts of the Beatles, but they're not the only artists featured here. Also on the record are Alice Cooper, Aerosmith, Steve Martin, George Burns, and Earth, Wind & Fire. It looks as if it could, at the very least, be an interesting mix of artists and styles. Unfortunately for the listener, it really isn't.
For the most part, the album consists of faithful yet very plain readings of Beatles classics. The mood doesn't change much from the disco-pop of the Bee Gees, like the album's title track and opener, or the easy listening schlock of Sandy Farina's (whoever the hell that is) reading of "Here Comes the Sun." Considering the heavy involvement of the Bee Gees and the time this album was created I expected to hear more straight-up disco, but only a couple of tracks ("Good Morning, Good Morning," and "Strawberry Fields Forever") strike me as songs you'd hear in a club circa 1978.
It's been my belief for a long time that a cover song is generally limited by its source material. The Beatles are quite possibly the best pop band to walk the face of the earth, so it's not their fault that the versions here are boring and unimaginative. I got the feeling while listening that most of these songs lacked any feeling or character. Sure, "Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite!" sounded, musically, as whimsical as the original but the vocals by the Bee Gees, Peter Frampton, and, yes, George Burns came across as flat and uninspired.
This is not to say that the record doesn't take any chances. It's just that those chances were definite missteps. The idea of Steve Martin doing a take on Abbey Road's "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" might sound funny in theory, but in execution Martin sounded like the guy from that "Monster Mash" single from the early 60's. (The spacey guitars in the background, courtesy of Peter Frampton, were kind of cool, however.) "She's Leaving Home" and "Mean Mr. Mustard" featured some weird vocal effects, like that of aliens. Not surprisingly, neither added anything to the song.
Other times, the artists didn't even attempt to sing. On "When I'm Sixty-Four," Frankie Howerd (again, whoever the hell that is) channeled William Shatner. "Because" featured Alice Cooper on lead vocal, and he delivered a spooky reading while the Bee Gees harmonized like angels in the background. It provided an interesting juxtaposition, but again it just didn't make for a very good song.
Even with all of the missteps, there were some bright spots. Earth, Wind, & Fire turned in a slightly funky take on "Got to Get You Into My Life." Apparently it was good enough to chart on the Billboard Hot 100, though I'll never understand why. Aerosmith's version of "Come Together" is probably the most solid song on the album. And Billy Preston's take on "Get Back" had probably the most excited and urgent vocals on the record.
The Sgt. Pepper's soundtrack suffers from a lack of exactly what made Preston's version of "Get Back" so engaging. A cover song doesn't necessarily have to be an unrecognizable version of its former self to be good; it just needs the covering artist's own spin on it, and perhaps more importantly it needs to respect the original. At times it seemed like the artists didn't really even like the material they were woking with. The vocals came across with no soul, and the music was just kind of playing there in the background saying nothing in particular. After 83 minutes of this (mostly) tripe, I long to listen to the originals not because I haven't heard them in a long time, but because I desperately need something to cleanse my aural palette.
Rating: One Eight-ball (of cocaine)
It's not entirely certain how much cocaine was consumed in order to come up with the vision for this album, but you can tell it was a shitload. The Bee Gees and Peter Frampton play the parts of the Beatles, but they're not the only artists featured here. Also on the record are Alice Cooper, Aerosmith, Steve Martin, George Burns, and Earth, Wind & Fire. It looks as if it could, at the very least, be an interesting mix of artists and styles. Unfortunately for the listener, it really isn't.
For the most part, the album consists of faithful yet very plain readings of Beatles classics. The mood doesn't change much from the disco-pop of the Bee Gees, like the album's title track and opener, or the easy listening schlock of Sandy Farina's (whoever the hell that is) reading of "Here Comes the Sun." Considering the heavy involvement of the Bee Gees and the time this album was created I expected to hear more straight-up disco, but only a couple of tracks ("Good Morning, Good Morning," and "Strawberry Fields Forever") strike me as songs you'd hear in a club circa 1978.
It's been my belief for a long time that a cover song is generally limited by its source material. The Beatles are quite possibly the best pop band to walk the face of the earth, so it's not their fault that the versions here are boring and unimaginative. I got the feeling while listening that most of these songs lacked any feeling or character. Sure, "Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite!" sounded, musically, as whimsical as the original but the vocals by the Bee Gees, Peter Frampton, and, yes, George Burns came across as flat and uninspired.
This is not to say that the record doesn't take any chances. It's just that those chances were definite missteps. The idea of Steve Martin doing a take on Abbey Road's "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" might sound funny in theory, but in execution Martin sounded like the guy from that "Monster Mash" single from the early 60's. (The spacey guitars in the background, courtesy of Peter Frampton, were kind of cool, however.) "She's Leaving Home" and "Mean Mr. Mustard" featured some weird vocal effects, like that of aliens. Not surprisingly, neither added anything to the song.
Other times, the artists didn't even attempt to sing. On "When I'm Sixty-Four," Frankie Howerd (again, whoever the hell that is) channeled William Shatner. "Because" featured Alice Cooper on lead vocal, and he delivered a spooky reading while the Bee Gees harmonized like angels in the background. It provided an interesting juxtaposition, but again it just didn't make for a very good song.
Even with all of the missteps, there were some bright spots. Earth, Wind, & Fire turned in a slightly funky take on "Got to Get You Into My Life." Apparently it was good enough to chart on the Billboard Hot 100, though I'll never understand why. Aerosmith's version of "Come Together" is probably the most solid song on the album. And Billy Preston's take on "Get Back" had probably the most excited and urgent vocals on the record.
The Sgt. Pepper's soundtrack suffers from a lack of exactly what made Preston's version of "Get Back" so engaging. A cover song doesn't necessarily have to be an unrecognizable version of its former self to be good; it just needs the covering artist's own spin on it, and perhaps more importantly it needs to respect the original. At times it seemed like the artists didn't really even like the material they were woking with. The vocals came across with no soul, and the music was just kind of playing there in the background saying nothing in particular. After 83 minutes of this (mostly) tripe, I long to listen to the originals not because I haven't heard them in a long time, but because I desperately need something to cleanse my aural palette.
Rating: One Eight-ball (of cocaine)
