...Or some such convoluted story. All these years after the fact, what is clear is that The Beatles were special mainly because they were dedicated to producing things nobody else could. These songs, the band's persona, the stances they took and lessons learned in front of the camera weren't just the exploits of a popular band, but live memoirs of the spiritual, artistic and disciplined Ideal. For each word written and photo taken of all manner of celebrities, they are still arguably the only group of musicians worth talking about with the same significance as any world leader or religious icon you care to name-- at least in the West. Bigger than Jesus? All you need is love, and there is nothing I could write about them that isn't a cliché a hundred times over.
Because of this, most folks with a half a brain refuse to write about them in the same boundless way fans and journalists did in the 60s. I suppose this is a wise choice; after all, I'm about as interested in sifting through their complete story right now as I am in reading the dictionary cover-to-cover. Sure, it's "important," if music and people and getting swept up in a minor revolution of love and change is important, but it's too fucking much. Collectively, The Beatles had so many ideas, made so much music, affected so many people, inspired so much good (and bad) that they were necessarily bigger than life. Thus, we're necessarily stuck with tackling this stuff bit by bit. It's a story of looking at things under a microscope, taking things slowly and trying to remember why we were so interested in the first place; it's a story of uncovering some small kernel of their legacy and watching it wind its way back to the center. Everything worthwhile gets back eventually.
Paul McCartney is a smug, charmless fuck. Ahem: "The great thing now about the remixed versions is that, with today's technology, they sound better than ever." If he had any humility, he'd insert a joke about receiving a bonus CD of outtakes when you ordered now; let's see some testimonials from satisfied customers as they pump their Beatles-themed parties, and claim, "Listening to this stuff brings back so many memories!" If his reasons for bringing you the "real" Let It Be seem cribbed from an infomercial, one can hardly fault his timing. George Harrison did, in fact, sign off on this release before his death, but given that he actually quit the band during the original sessions, one can only hope McCartney is reaping all his karmic just desserts for this "naked" edition.
In January 1969, about six weeks after The White Album was released, the band more-or-less agreed that their next project would involve being filmed as they performed their music. Well, at least they agreed they should be filmed; or, they had certainly been open to the idea of all being in the same place at the same time, working on music, possibly making a movie (but "no movies," as Harrison protested) and maybe eventually playing live somewhere in an Arabic desert. Or France. Or maybe on the rooftop of their studios. Oh, and, "Any of us can do separate things as well and that way it also preserves The Beatles bit." Hmm, but, "What we're doing is still rehearsing and we'll get it together." "We'll collect our thoughts and you collect yours."
The sessions and rehearsals that eventually produced the original issue of Let It Be have been rightfully documented as disorganized and tension-filled. After spending a month being filmed by Michael Lindsay-Hogg (who they'd already worked with on videos for "Hey Jude" and "Revolution", among others) as they rehearsed new material, and having put so much sound to tape that no one could be bothered to sift through it all when the time came to deliver an actual product, the band, realizing their defeat, handed it all off to engineer Glyn Johns and moved on to their next project. One original idea for these sessions was merely to be filmed performing songs from The White Album; another was that they should get back to their roots of performing raving rock 'n' roll in front of an audience. Typically, The Beatles' ideas and ambitions far outreached what they could possibly have achieved on their own-- and for the first time since they'd been together, most of them were too tired, distracted or otherwise uninspired to make sure all those ridiculous ideas actually materialized.
Johns compiled his version of what the record should be: studio chatter, adlibs, many rough takes of new songs and even off-the-cuff covers. He was chosen because of his work with The Rolling Stones, but only too soon discovered that his new employers operated differently. Even after several modifications and release dates, his compilation was rejected. The tapes were shelved until the band agreed to let legendary producer Phil Spector have a go at squeezing a good record out of them. It should be noted that while The Beatles were only too happy to rid themselves of the burden of Let It Be, they were working with George Martin on Abbey Road in exactly the same way they always had: If perfectionism and pride were forgotten in the winter of '69, apparently they could make amends on a "proper" LP. Of course, when the band actually heard what Spector had produced, they balked (well, most of the time, depending on who was arguing with who). Nevertheless, Let It Be was released in January 1970, after Abbey Road, and despite considerable differences of opinion on its "greatness" at the time, it has become yet another canonical set of Beatle music.
So what did Spector produce? First, he added a couple of songs, including an old throwaway by Lennon called "Across the Universe", which was originally from 1968 and had recently been released on a charity compilation called No One's Gonna Change Our World. Secondly, he beefed up some of the rather sparse arrangements with ersatz orchestral and choral parts-- much to the fury of McCartney after hearing his "The Long and Winding Road" turned into a Hallmark commercial. Never mind that Spector had at least given the band a releasable record, including managing to turn a minute-and-a-half Harrison song fragment into "I Me Mine". Given McCartney's famed disgust over the resulting LP, his enthusiasm to issue his idea of how this music should sound shouldn't surprise anyone. Let It Be... Naked is a remixed, resequenced presentation of the most maligned Beatles album, and for better or for worse, will wrap no loose ends whatsoever.
The best news about this record is that the songs themselves have not changed much in 33 years. Those of you who love "Across the Universe" and "Two of Us" for their elegant simplicity and overwhelming beauty will be happy to know they haven't changed, even if these performances are not the ones to which we've become accustomed. By the same token, I don't think I can ever love "The Long and Winding Road"; sure, the choirs were a bit much, but then, McCartney didn't really need them to lay on some pretty thick drama. In any case, once over the initial shock of the new song order, Naked will seem very familiar to fans.
The sound is perfect, of course. If anything, Naked serves as a great argument for a project to remaster all of the original Beatle albums. Producers Paul Hicks, Guy Massey and Allan Rouse have done an excellent job cleaning up whatever warts were on the original tapes, and presenting these songs in a fresh way without resorting to making them sound overly "modern." They've also somehow found a way to make McCartney play in tune, so I can only be grateful for that.
Now I must ask: Why? In 2003, there are few people clamoring for an alternate version of Let It Be, and those that are have almost certainly discovered the myriad bootlegs offering every possible combination of halfway-finished covers and studio banter. There is Beatle music yet to be released that should be: My pick would have been a legit issue of their sessions at George's house playing The White Album songs unplugged before recording them. This is music that lends a considerably different light to their music than any remix ever could, and also has the advantage of not being horrifically over-analyzed for the past 30 years. Conversely, Naked is really only interesting as a mild curio, for fighting the boots and for the strangeness of reading a lecture on the wrongs of music-sharing placed within the cover of a Beatles record.
So then, the tunes. To my ears, "Get Back" and "For You Blue" are unchanged. The difference is that "Get Back" now leads off the record, and "For You Blue" is slotted third, suggesting McCartney thinks more of it than Spector did. Likewise, "I Me Mine" features the same familiar Harrison vocals and guitar lines, but is completely stripped of the cinematic Spector backing arrangement. "The Long and Winding Road" also seems mostly the same, minus the orchestra and choir. However, listening more closely, I'm sure this is a different performance; McCartney's vocal wavers slightly and Billy Preston's organ solo gives it a subtle, soulful feel, reminiscent of "A Whiter Shade of Pale" (one of McCartney's favorite songs). However, what's immediately noticeable is the marked clarity of all of these songs. Ringo's hi-hat is crisp, Harrison's Leslie'd asides are in plain sight, rather than being buried by excitable sopranos.
Lennon's "Don't Let Me Down" wasn't on the original LP but was rehearsed at the same sessions. The band performs it here more uptempo than on the released "Get Back" B-side, and generally more ragged-- as is to be expected, given that this was pulled from their famous rooftop performance. Lennon lets loose with some wailing falsetto near the end, and even though they weren't the tightest outfit ever to play, few can deny the contagious enthusiasm they mustered onstage. "I've Got a Feeling" and "One After 909" are also pulled from the roof concert, and are similarly raw. Still, they're hardly bad recordings and I wonder why the band was so reluctant to release them at the time.
The tracks that struck me most on Naked were "Let It Be" and "Across the Universe". The former because it seems very much improved with this remix; the Harrison guitar solo is new, so this is likely a different version than was released originally, and the hymnal-esque backing vocals are gorgeously placed across the aural plane in the mix. These are the kinds of changes that make Naked an interesting listen for longtime fans, and raise the question of the powers that be possibly issuing a full-length project of Beatles remixes wherein drastic changes are made to songs without the obligation of placing the project alongside the rest of their proper LPs, as if this is the way they were "meant" to be. That said, "Across the Universe" is the same (slowed-down) vocal and guitar from Let It Be, but with more reverb and soft sitar-like sounds. Though there's already a beautiful, lesser-known version of this track available (an elaborate George Martin-produced studio version with a background children's choir and bird chirps), this take eclipses the already beautiful original Let It Be version as the second-best performance of the song.
Let It Be... Naked also comes with a second disc entitled Fly on the Wall, consisting of several short fragments of studio conversation and song rehearsals, amounting to approximately 21 minutes of bonus material. This disc will doubtless be fascinating to fans, and in particular the snippets of John performing a very early version of "Imagine" (here referenced as "John's Piano Piece"), and a short, striking version of Harrison's "All Things Must Pass", obviously influenced by his time spent with Bob Dylan and The Band in America the previous year. However, given that the entire two-disc set runs less than an hour, I wonder why it wasn't condensed to a single disc. Furthermore, if a 21-minute outtakes collection deserves its own bonus disc, why not expand this material to fill the rest of the CD? Apparently, releasing two versions of Let It Be make more sense to the remaining Beatles than giving fans something new.
Ultimately, Naked is not essential. Unlike scattered moments in the Anthology series, this music, though immaculately presented, doesn't really expand on either the music of Let It Be, or The Beatles' legacy. At this point, I'm not sure many people are prepared to accept a new take on the band anyway, but I might at least be happy knowing they didn't take me for a raving completist. And yet, I stood in line for this, just like millions of other like-minded fans will, merely for the chance to hear some small kernel leading me back to the reason I started listening in the first place. The albums will always be there, and the legend will forever be imprinted on the hearts of anyone believing in the affirming power of their music. In the end, regardless of what I write, this is The Beatles, and you already know what that means.
