Showing posts with label The Beatles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Beatles. Show all posts

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Paul Fucking McCartney

 http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lkpfs2mO5C1qjcwuzo1_500.gif
by Brendan Cavanagh

Over the summer, my friend and I spent countless hours in his basement spinning records, shooting pool and exchanging personal philosophies on each and every iota of life's minutiae. A slight argument arose while discussing which Beatle's voice each of us would prefer to have as our own, if we had the ability to sing. He chose John Lennon, whereas I chose Paul McCartney. It was hard, at that time, to articulate exactly what it was about each voice that we admired, so we made a pact to make each other a mix of the songs we felt best conveyed the particular style we wished to possess: the unique or emotionally evocative way a song, or even just a single line, is sung. The process took a while to initiate, but ultimately we compiled what we felt were adequate mixes, and we'll exchange them upon my return home from school this weekend.

Admittedly, it was an agonizing process. How can one be asked to narrow a plethora of perfect examples of songs to an hour and twelve minutes worth of playtime? My friend made the pointed observation that all of the songs rejected from the definitive CD could be slapped onto another playlist to produce just as good of a mix. But after hours of painstaking, meticulous construction, here are the songs I feel demonstrate the desirable nuances of Paul McCartney's voice, assembled in a fashion I felt flowed well as a CD (I sure hope he doesn't see this before I give it to him):

Paul Fucking McCartney

1) Why Don't We Do It In The Road? (The Beatles, 1968)

2) Medley A. Kansas City B. Hey Hey Hey (Beatles For Sale, 1964)
3) I've Just Seen A Face (Help!, 1965)
4) Magical Mystery Tour (Magical Mystery Tour, 1967)
5) Fixing A Hole (Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967)
6) I've Got A Feeling (Let It Be, 1970)
7) Oh! Darling (Abbey Road, 1969)
8) When I'm Sixty-Four (Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967)
9) Got To Get You Into My Life (Revolver, 1966)
10) You Never Give Me Your Money (Abbey Road, 1969)
11) Get Back (Let It Be, 1970)
12) P.S. I Love You (Please Please Me, 1963)
13) I'm Down (B-side to "Help!", 1965)
14) Lady Madonna (A-side with "The Inner Light", 1968)
15) Michelle (Rubber Soul, 1965)
16) Baby's In Black (Beatles For Sale, 1964)
17) The Fool On The Hill (Magical Mystery Tour, 1967)
18) Helter Skelter (The Beatles, 1968)
19) Free As A Bird (A-side with "Real Love", 1995)
20) Lovely Rita (Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967)
21) Hey Jude (A-side with "Revolution", 1968)
22) I Saw Her Standing There (Please Please Me, 1963)
23) Blackbird (The Beatles, 1968)
24) Golden Slumbers (Abbey Road, 1969)
25) She's Leaving Home (Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967)
26) All Together Now (Yellow Submarine, 1969)

Do you have any differing choices? Or an arguable case for another Beatle's voice? Drop a comment below.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Pilgrimage to Macca

by Brendan Cavanagh

I can't say that this has been one of my most productive summers. For the most part I simply slave away the hours at Illini Country Club, shamelessly pleasuring golf pros and club-swinging members alike in the near-fruitless hope of making the occasional extra dollar in addition to keeping my go-to summer job. But my three months of labor literally paid off bi-monthly, and I earned enough to purchase a ticket to the second of two Paul McCartney shows at Wrigley Field in Chicago.

Monday night, on August the 1st, my pal David and I made the three-hour voyage north to witness in person a musical legend, one-fourth of our beloved Beatles. In addition to seeing a surely enjoyable concert filled with numerous recognizable hits, we were utterly anxious to simply see Paul McCartney. How many people can say they have seen one of the legendary Beatles perform? The historical significance of our concert trip was enormous. We couldn't even find the appropriate words to speak to each other for the half-hour we waited patiently in our seats on the field of Wrigley, aside from the occasional, "Shit. Paul McCartney, dude."

Promptly and casually walking onstage at 8:30 p.m. (okay, the show was supposed to start at 8:00, but it's Paul McCartney, damn it), the object of David's and my summer infatuation sported a spiffy red blazer and wielded his iconic bass guitar. We got a surprisingly satisfactory pair of seats, literally a stone's throw from the stage. I mean, if there were any leftover baseballs just sitting on the field from one of the previous nights' Cardinals / Cubs game, I could have probably have thrown it and nailed Paul in the face, despite my spindly wrists and lack of athletic prowess.

After a couple songs, he ditched the blazer in favor of showcasing his black suspenders- "It's too hot!"

Having read that the night before at Wrigley Paul opened with Magical Mystery Tour's "Hello Goodbye," I was curious to see if he repeated the song for our show. However, my concert was immediately distinguished from the previous one when, to my surprise, the opening song was, rather fittingly, "Magical Mystery Tour." What a way to kick off a show: "Roll up- and that's an invitation!- roll up!"

Not my video.

From there, the concert only gained energy, as Paul enthusiastically plowed through a massive catalog of Beatles hits, showcasing the group's time-defying evolutionary style, as well as the best songs off Band On The Run, equally enjoyable, more contemporary recordings and two borrowed songs that paid tribute to the two deceased Beatles. Here's a copy of the setlist:





Our audience was blessed with the privilege of hearing a few songs not played the night before, ascribing this particular concert some sort of comforting, unique status. It felt good, as if Paul was personally guaranteeing that we would not simply be exposed to a mere replay of the previous concert.


When "A Day In The Life" transitioned seamlessly into John Lennon's "Give Peace A Chance," the entire audience belted out the chorus as Paul took a break from lead vocals, subsequently joining the crowd in a single act of purely peaceful unification. Again, when the extended chorus arose during the show-closing "Hey Jude," the crowd rose to the occasion, and something about 42,000 people singing along to the same song with only good intentions made this a sort of musically spiritual communion. I felt so happy to be so happy, and I realized that this is just a small way of ensuring peace and good will in such a volatile world. I mean, we have all these lines of demarcation and numerous altercations all over the world, but as Paul told the crowd after playing "Back In the U.S.S.R.," even the defense minister of Russia listened to the Beatles- he learned English buy buying and listening to their records! It just goes to show what a unifying experience we find in music.

So the show ran for about three hours- that's including two encores (unprecedented in my concert experience)- and Paul never lost zest. He's nearly seventy years old, and yet he continues to belt out powerful songs through endless tours, playing shows double the length of most other artists or bands out there. And not only does he play all these songs, but he sprints from his piano to his guitar spot, and dances goofily and converses with the audience between songs. He's a powerhouse.


One of many highlights: a literally explosive rendition of "Live And Let Die"

My biggest hope for the show was that he would close the show with one of my favorite Beatles composition, the Golden Slumbers mini-medley ("Golden Slumbers" / "Carry That Weight" / "The End") from the tail end of Abbey Road, as he had done the night before. And if the show couldn't have gone better- as if I hadn't already decided that this was the best show I had ever seen or will have ever seen- he did it. He closed the second encore with the medley. You know that saying often appended to Facebook statuses or tweets by teenage girls who accomplish any simple feat- "omg just saw jobros in concert, my life is complete" or "my mom bought me tickets to the midnight show of twilight breaking dawn part one, my life is complete." Well, I felt like a sixteen year old girl who met Justin Bieber. My life felt complete. The exhilaration I felt after that show motivated and allowed me to make the three / four hour drive home that night. I feel sort of like the disillusioned generation that fought in World War I and didn't know what the hell to do after experiencing all that they had experienced in the war- I don't have the money to throw parties and drown myself in alcohol like they did in the Roaring 20s, but I'll probably just spend a lot of time lying wistfully on the couch now.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Ramblings and Runnings from Me to Us.

Okay, so I'm in a car. Riiiiiiiiight now. Driving home from Champaign Urbana. Two days early, cuz I'm a badass. I don't need foolish charades such as class and learning to make me the most intelligent person in the world. In fact, I thrive on knowing everything I need to without trying to know everything I need to. It just happens. Like periods.

Anyway, I don't have a clear goal for this post, and I definitely don't have internet here on the road so there will be no crafty links or hilarious and ironic pictures. Sorry, buds. So where are we headed? Eh, south, probably. However that doesn't mean that you guys don't need to hear me rant and rave about random occurences.

Okay, what's been going on this past week with me? A whole lotta nothing basically. Stayed in on Friday in favor of Final Fantasy and NBA 2K11. I like basketball and dragons, what can I say? Ps, I had this idea. Well I had these ideas. Here we go. We've got an ideear. Random thought line post? Sure.

Quarterbacks in football should be allowed, in fact, required, to ride horses. Spend the next two minutes envisioning that, have fun.

Some people are just bitches. You deal with them as best you can, and when they turn their back you roll your eyes and say “I'm really glad that I don't have to deal with you anymore for a while”. It's okay to dislike people, really.

Guns should be outlawed. Duh.

Pot should be illegal. It's way more epic that way.

Illinois should rename itself Abraham Lincoln. It's time to become American. Like for real, we aren't injuns.

I found a silly band at Classic Brian's dorm the other day that is ridiculously big. I've been wearing it around my waist since Saturday. Yeah. I'm fit.

School is hard, but if you don't wanna do great, like if you just wanna do good, then you really don't have to try all that hard. Just be able to know when you need to step up.

I really love the Bulls. I demand to go to a Bulls game. I have yet to attend a Bulls game, and dammit I'm a bigger fan then mosta these hoes. D-Rose makes me so happy on a nightly basis.

Lauren Leonatti and Jenni Austiff are a couple cool chicks from Chatham. Who knew?

Props to SHS for finally getting a playoff W. The second one was sweeter. Don't worry about fucking up against Chatham, we still thought it was awesome. (OKAY SERIOUSLY NONE OF THEM WILL READ THIS AT ALL)

Is it weird that I casually listen to music from Final Fantasy VII? You would think but...

This statement has nothing to do with the last one. Well actually now, eh, damn.

If you feel like we haven't talked to me in a while, Skype me. You can look me up yourself. If you don't have Skype, then call or text. I'm in one of those moods.

Do you guys think I can get Ganja to marry me?

Fountains are really stupid. Think about it.

You know why people stand around and drink in college? Because that's all that college provides for. It gives you a bunch of empty rooms and a culture that embraces and prides itself on drinking. They boast that 19% of students here don't drink. And I think that's just undergrads. Really? That's ALMOST one in five.

I'm going to do a fun project. I bought a recorder because that's what journalists have. So I need one for when I play dress up. What I was thinking was doling it out to friends of mine so that they could record themselves and talk to me. Just give me a message that I will hear at a time of convenience. I want you to talk to me. Just ramble for ten minutes. I love to hear you be you. Wanna be a part? Ask a fella. I'm not going to make anybody do it that doesn't want to. I'll return the favor somehow so I'm not just using you for an ego-boost. Well, so that's not ALL I'm doing. I love my fans.

I haven't played poker in a while. Anybody wanna play a game of poker over TG break?

Speakin' a which, I'm dead excited to see my Springfield peeps. Especially Brian Malone. It's been like 28 hours bro!

It's hard to define “it”, but “it” is what makes rap great. I can't define it, but I can feel it. If you can't feel it then you don't like rap. If you do feel it you will like rap. Good rap songs have it flowing beautifully in synchronization with their beat. There's more to rap than studio keyboard and self-righteous lyrics. Well, more to GOOD rap anyway.

Do I miss having a job? I don't wanna admit that, but paychecks are fucking sweet. Except for the fact that they're never as high as you want them to be. You always hope for the surprise that you worked 20 more hours than you did. NEVER happens. Why God?

Mada's post last night was great. Almost as good as Brian's. Good job team!

SPRINGFIELD PEEPS: LETS WATCH FANTASIA OVER BREAK.

I'm a Packers fan. I love the Packers like I love my cats. Ladies, the head start you have by being a Packers fan is similar to if you came up to me on the street and told me you loved my cats.

I wanna drum. Like REAL BADleh.

My brother just lit up a cigarette. Suckin' the thin dick of death. Mmm MM!

Soul night: Dinner at Florida Avenue Residence Hall where they serve black people food. Stereotypical as shit. But they nail it, and it is so God damn delicious. Also they have Kool-Aid. Yummness.

Tynan Shevlin looks like Michael Jackson. I'm concerned.

Is the countryside beautiful? I couldn't tell you. I suppose it's more prettier durin the day, but also I feel like I'm just immune to Illinois scenery. If I met Abraham Lincoln I wouldn't even flip out. I'd be like yo, I probably know more about you than you do. Not to mention reluctantly. #fucklincoln

Speaking of which, hashtags should become more normal. They're like rap lyrics, but more accessible to the mind of white people. Which is good, because white people have trouble with rap lyrics. It's funny.

ESPN is a joke. They show nothing but Brett Favre and the Heat and steroids. It sucks, for everyone.

It's been a while since I've played a good video game. Honestly the last one that wasn't FF was Uncharted 2, and that was at Christmas, feel free to throw a title or too my way.

I brought home four garbage bags of laundry. Garbage bags. Yeah.

These things are hard to write sometimes. An idea can come to you during the week, but it's got a fifty-fifty shot of slipping your mind before you step up to the keyboard to write a blog post. If you do remember it, you have to be passionate about it, because if not your writing's going to suck. (Here's the part where I would link to Mada's ten-word post if I had access to the internet). Then you have to make sure it's an interesting subject in the first place. Well, I guess you don't have to, but you should.

Lists suck, Brendan. Just kidding. Just lists about books.

Books suck.

Harry Potter is a self-righteous douche.

So is AJ Delaurio, but he pulls it off well.

Almost as well as Ben Shane.

Answer to the question in your mind: I don't know. I don't know what I'm talking about. Uhh.

Anyway, back to drinking in college. They give you a bunch of open rooms to stand around and drink in. The one thing that everyone can say without denial is cool is drinking and hooking up. Want people to not think you're weird? Get drunk and hook up with trashed girls. That'll make you normal. How embarrassing.

CrossTape did a show with Twista and didn't make a huge deal out of it. Fuck that.

For those of you out there thinking about pulling a 180 on their life plans. It's college. We're here to find out what's really interesting.

Conor and I still have to build a wall. Can that be this summer?

Now I'm getting back into Springfield. Time to think of something clever to end this post.

Did I just spite myself out completely? I can't think of anything now that would be nearly clever enough to overcome the fact that I just told you I'm trying to be clever.

How inconvenient. Rememer when I wrote about Springfield and how much I love it? (No? Oh, well then...) It's so weird. It honestly feels like a third parent. And not a good one. 0 for 3. :(

JUST KIDDING MOM I LOVE YOU.

Can't wait to grow up. Gonna get a job. Gonna have some money. Gonna have my own things. Maybe I'll get a dog. Whoa.

My brother now tells me we're stopping by a friend's house to say hi. Apparently the dude just had his second kid (I KNOW, I KNOW, HE didn't have the baby, I get it. You're stupid for thinking I was that stupid.) less than a week ago. Crazy. That baby is still raw.

Having a new kid is like learning a new summon spell.

On second thought, maybe I'm not ready to grow up yet.

Just kidding pops, I love you too. No homo though. Boy would THAT be weird.

Music plays. Yup. It's a fadeout.

--Eliot Sill