Celebrating John Lennon
By Steven P. Wheeler
“’Imagine,’ ‘Love’ and those Plastic Ono Band songs stand up to any song that was written when I was a Beatle. Now, it may take you 20 or 30 years to appreciate that, but the fact is, if you check those songs out, you will see that [they are] as good as any stuff that was ever done [with the Beatles].”
John Lennon (Playboy, 1980)
By the time John Lennon had reached the age of 40 on October 9, 1980, it seemed as if he had finally come to terms with the shadow of the Beatles that plagued and haunted him like some translucent ghost from a distant past. A chain-toting entity that millions of music fans worldwide would continually manifest right up until the time of his death two months later.
And for someone who, between 1963-69, crafted such immortal rock classics as “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “All You Need is Love,” “Help!,” “A Hard Day’s Night,” “Day Tripper,” “Nowhere Man,” “In My Life,” “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away,” “Norwegian Wood.” “I Am the Walrus,” “Revolution” and “Come Together,” getting people to forget that past and listen to the present while peering into the future became a formidable task throughout his solo career.
Granted, nearly every solo album that John Lennon released from the time of the Beatles demise in 1970 to his own tragic death ten years later would appear in the Top Ten (three of them topping the charts). Still, very few of his solo songs—most notably “Imagine,” the idealistic ode for world peace which would serve as his ironic epitaph—carry as much weight of public recognition as the material he created during the ‘60s. And while some may find Lennon’s above quote to be a sign of bravado, upon closer inspection of his post-Beatles work, one is hard pressed to disagree.
Today, on what would have been John Lennon’s 79th Birthday, I felt this would be a good time to share my thoughts about John Lennon, the artist. Not gonna be digging deeply into the Man behind the Art, but rather just wanting to celebrate Lennon’s artistic legacy through his own words and more than two dozen songs I’ve compiled for your listening pleasure.
“My defenses were so great. The cocky rock & roll hero who knows all the answers was actually a terrified guy who didn’t know how to cry.”
John Lennon
This is a day to forget the myths, leave behind the legends, and just dive a little deeper into the music and songs he left us. For, quite simply, there has never been a popular songwriter so brutally honest with his personal feelings, so willing to expose his innermost weaknesses, or be so candid in describing his own pain… or joy for that matter.
As he sang in 1971’s “Gimme Some Truth”: “I’m sick and tired of hearing things from uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocrites / All I want is the truth / Just gimme some truth”
Soul of An Artist
As a songwriter and a recording artist, John Lennon reveled in truth. He was not out to make friends or make believe he was something he wasn’t. He wasn’t afraid to follow his own path and even risk public ridicule during his journey, which he did more than once.
After the Beatles, songwriting for Lennon was more about looking at himself, often turning his emotions inside out for others to see, and not being ashamed of what was ultimately revealed. As he once said, “I want to be loved and accepted by all facets of society, and not be this loudmouth, lunatic poet-musician. But I cannot be what I’m not.”
Honesty in Song
Throughout his 40 years on this sphere, John Lennon embarked on an individual path in search of self and honesty—both in his art and his life. And he would often find himself alienating many of his fans and the American establishment with his uncensored glimpses of society at large, as well as his own personal frailties. But the true fascination lies beyond the more sensationalistic aspects of this one man’s art, and resides within the many different faces and personalities that surfaced throughout his public life.
In fact, it is these seeming dichotomies which ultimately serve as the components necessary if one is to solve the complex artistic equation that is John Lennon. From his wretched howls of pain in 1969’s “Cold Turkey,” which horrifically addressed the issue of his own heroin withdrawal, to the fatherly advice he gave his young son, Sean, in 1980’s “Beautiful Boy.”
Lennon held nothing back in his songs, and he never stopped searching for his own personal truth throughout his career. This voyage toward peace of mind and spiritual enlightenment took him through periods of heavy drug use to practicing the ancient art of mediation with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in the late ‘60s.
Following the end of the Beatles, he would attempt to come to grips with his own past—going back to being abandoned by both his father and mother—through Dr. Arthur Janov’s controversial primal scream therapy, which dovetailed into his lengthy political protests for peace, and, finally, to his acceptance of family life and his role as husband and father; after failing miserably at both with his first wife Cynthia and first son Julian.
And, despite his poetic brilliance, clever wordplay and haunting melodies, it’s this candid approach to his life and his art that remains Lennon’s true legacy.
“Songwriting is about getting the demon out of me,” he said at one point. “It’s like being possessed. You try to go to sleep, but the song won’t let you. So you have to get up and make it into something, and then you’re allowed to sleep. It’s always in the middle of the bloody night, or when you’re half-awake or tired, when your critical faculties are switched off. Every time you try to put your finger on it, it slips away.”
“We all have Hitler in us, but we also have love and peace. So why not give peace a chance for once?”
John Lennon
Absorption & Observations
Of course, like all great songwriters, Lennon also kept his eyes and ears open to forces outside of himself when he wrote as well. For instance, he told Playboy in 1980: “I was lying on the sofa in our house, listening to Yoko play Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’ on the piano. Suddenly, I said, ‘Can you play those chords backwards?’ She did, and I wrote ‘Because’ around them. The song sounds like ‘Moonlight Sonata,’ too. The lyrics are clear, no bullshit, no imagery, no obscure references.”
Lennon even wrote songs based on television commercials, such as “Good Morning Good Morning” with the Beatles, and “Whatever Gets You Thru the Night,” which became his first solo #1 hit. As for his songwriting methods, Lennon said, “People often ask how I write: I do it all kinds of ways—with piano, guitar, any combination you can think of, in fact.”
And in another interview, he revealed: “I often sit working at songs with the telly on low in the background. If I’m a bit low and not getting much done then the words on the telly come through. That’s when I heard ‘Good Morning Good Morning,” it was a Corn Flakes advertisement.” The same happened when he heard the phrase “Whatever gets you through the night” from television evangelist Reverend Ike.
Despite these absorption episodes, Lennon would continue writing from a more personal perspective right up until his final days. As he said during one of his last interviews: “When I was singing and writing [his final album Double Fantasy], I was visualizing all the people of my age group. I’m singing to them. I’m saying, ‘Here I am now. How are you? How’s your relationship going? Did you get through it all? Wasn’t the ‘70s a drag? Here we are, well, let’s try to make the ‘80s good, you know.”
And therein lies the real tragedy of John Lennon. After retiring from music in 1975 in order to raise his newborn son, Sean, and live the life of a househusband while Yoko took care of the family business, this man, who was so often trapped by his inner demons and bogged down by his artistic past, had seemingly found true happiness. Or, at the very least, had come to grips with his past and discovered a comforting way to deal with his life on his own terms.
“Part of me suspects that I’m a loser and the other part of me thinks I’m God Almighty.”
John Lennon
Lyrical Exorcism
Of course, not just any person can sit down and write songs with the power and majestic beauty of a John Lennon, just because they feel that they have something to share with others. All great art evolves over time. And the songwriting of John Lennon was no exception.
He did not base his muse on whether or not he was commercially successful. In fact, in spite of the unparalleled success of the Beatles, Lennon forced himself to grow as a writer and an artist, admitting in countless interviews that it was not until midway through his tenure with the Fab Four that he began looking at the importance of what his songs were actually saying.
“I wasn’t too keen on lyrics in those days. I didn’t think they counted,” he said. “Dylan used to come out with his latest acetate and say, ‘Listen to the words, man.’ And I’d say, “I don’t listen to the words.”
Things slowly began to change as he made clear in a Rolling Stone interview: “I didn’t really enjoy writing third-person songs about people who lived in concrete flats and things like that. I like first-person music.” During another interview, Lennon further pinpointed this writing evolution, stating: “[‘In My Life’] was the first song I wrote that was consciously about my life. Before that we were just writing songs a la the Everly Brothers, Buddy Holly—pop songs with no more thought to them than that. The words were almost irrelevant.”
Over the next few years this musical introspection would grow even more. “The first true songs I ever wrote were [songs] like ‘In My Life,’ ‘Help!’ and ‘Strawberry Fields Forever,’” Lennon said. “They were the ones I really wrote from experience, and not projecting myself into a situation and writing a nice story about it. I always found that phony, but I’d find occasion to do it because I’d have to produce so much work, or because I’d be so hung up, I couldn’t even think about myself.
Reflecting on when this transition from writing generic pop tunes to far more personal revelations began, Lennon told Playboy in 1980. “When ‘Help!’ came out in ’65, I was actually crying out for help. The Beatles thing had just gone beyond comprehension. We were smoking marijuana for breakfast… and nobody could communicate with us, because we were just all glazed eyes, giggling all the time. In our own world. That was the song, ‘Help!’ I think everything that comes out of a song shows something about yourself.”
One Man’s Journey
After the Beatles, Lennon found himself on a new artistic road that was built upon his growing desire to construct songs that were akin to musical snapshots of his life. The imagery within his songs could be beautiful and heavenly or dark and hellish as they would mirror both his dreams and nightmares.
From his intake of mind-altering substances and his stint with primal scream therapy to his public political battles and personal failures, Lennon churned out songs like pages from a diary.
“[LSD] wasn’t a miracle,” he told Rolling Stone in 1970. “It was more of a visual thing and a therapy, looking at yourself a bit. It did all that. But it didn’t write the music; neither did Janov or Maharishi in the same terms. I write the music in the circumstances in which I’m in.”
Lennon would immerse himself in various movements and lifestyles throughout the ‘70s, both with and without Yoko. These changing landscapes of the mind were often contradictory, but nonetheless fascinating as they each created new wells of inspiration for Lennon to dip into.
Whereas most songwriters tend to stand still upon discovering a successful formula, Lennon—along with artists like Bob Dylan or David Bowie—refused to plant his artistic feet in one garden. Instead venturing on an endless path of self that would take him through dedicated sessions of controversial therapies to his well-publicized (i.e., over-publicized) enlistment in the revolutionary underground (which resulted in the political ravings of 1972’s much-maligned and poor selling album, Some Time in New York City).
Then came his separation from Yoko Ono in 1973, which freed him up to go through a new hedonistic level of bachelorhood bolstered by an endless supply of money, celebrity and alcohol. It would become known as his infamous Lost Weekend, a year-and-a-half period in which Lennon would hit new lows, including being physically tossed out of The Troubadour in Los Angeles for his obnoxious drunken behavior.
Despite that turbulent time in his personal life Lennon managed to turn his bitter loneliness and intoxicated depression into a stellar collection of autobiographical songs on 1974’s chart-topping album, Walls and Bridges. This would be his last album of original material for six long years.
“It was the Lost Weekend that lasted eighteen months,” he told Playboy in 1980. “I’ve never drunk so much in my life. I tried to drown myself in the bottle and I was with the heaviest drinkers in the business [Keith Moon, Harry Nilsson and Bobby Keys]. It’s embarrassing for me to think about that period, because I made a big fool of myself.
“I wrote ‘Nobody Loves You [When You’re Down and Out]’ during that time,” he continued. “That’s how I felt. It exactly expresses the whole period.”
Starting Over
The seeds of John Lennon’s reconciliation with Yoko Ono were planted at the end of his Lost Weekend period when his good friend Elton John played piano and sang harmony vocals on Lennon’s 1974 song, “Whatever Gets You Thru the Night.” Following the recording session, Elton said that the song was destined to be a #1 hit.
Lennon laughed off the comment, but Elton upped the ante and taunted his friend, saying that if the song did indeed top the charts Lennon would have to appear onstage with him.
Having never had a #1 solo hit before, Lennon accepted the bet. “Whatever Gets You Thru the Night” was released on September 23 and, lo and behold, it did indeed top the charts on November 16. Elton called in the bet and less than two weeks later, on Thanksgiving night, November 28, 1974, during Elton’s sold-out concert at New York’s Madison Square Garden, Lennon would make what sadly turned out to be his very last concert appearance.
In the hastily put together rehearsals before the Madison Square Garden appearance, the two superstars knew that they would perform “Whatever Gets You Thru the Night” and Elton’s latest single, a cover of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” which Lennon had played on. That song would also top the charts two months later. As they were thinking of a third song to do together, Elton had suggested “Imagine,” but Lennon refused, saying, “No, too boring.”
So Elton, being the Beatle freak he was, thought doing the first song on the first Beatle album, “I Saw Her Standing There,” might be interesting. The fact that the Lennon/McCartney rocker was originally sung by Paul McCartney intrigued Lennon and their mini-set was then finalized.
On the night of the concert, Lennon was so nervous before his guest appearance that he got physically ill backstage and Elton’s guitarist Davey Johnstone had to tune the former Beatle’s guitar for him. His anxiety was understandable, since Lennon had only appeared on a concert stage one time since the final Beatle concert eight long years before. He had never toured during his solo career and now he was set to step in front of 20,000 fans in his adopted hometown.
Unbeknownst to the former Beatle, Elton had also arranged for Yoko to be at the show and to be waiting backstage when the show was over. It was this meeting in which Yoko finally relented to Lennon’s pleas to give their marriage another chance.
The Househusband is Born
Less than two months after seeing each other backstage at Lennon’s Thanksgiving performance at Madison Square Garden, in January of 1975, Lennon and Yoko were back together at their Dakota apartment overlooking Central Park. That same month, Elton’s recording of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” (featuring Lennon on guitar and vocals) hit #1, and then Lennon co-wrote and played on David Bowie’s future #1 hit “Fame.” And in February the former Beatle released Rock ‘n’ Roll, his cover album of early rock hits, which became another Top Ten hit.
On April 18, Lennon taped a live performance, in which he performed “Slippin’ and Slidin’” (from his Rock ‘n’ Roll album) and “Imagine” before a small black tie audience at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in the Big Apple. The broadcast was in honor of Britain’s famous showbiz mogul Sir Lew Grade, who at one point owned the Beatles songwriting publishing, which caused acrimonious feelings from both Lennon and McCartney.
Always the rebel, Lennon took a subliminal jab at Grade during this brief performance by having his band wear face masks on the back of their heads in his belief that Grade was two-faced in his business dealings. This brief television appearance would prove to be his last performance in front of any audience anywhere.
In short, Lennon’s career was in full throttle once again by early 1975, but when Yoko became pregnant, he and Yoko agreed that he would give up his music career and raise their son, Sean, who was born on Lennon’s 35th birthday on October 9, 1975. Thus began Lennon’s famous househusband period that would last five very long years.
From 1975 to 1980, Lennon was a ghost to the public; largely forgotten as his former writing partner Paul McCartney reached new heights of popularity with his band, Wings. Simply put, Lennon was nowhere to be seen as he spent his days baking bread and raising his son.
It wasn’t until August of 1980 that John Lennon returned to the recording studio and began working on his comeback album, Double Fantasy. The sessions, which would continue through October, would result in an album that would be split equally between Lennon and Ono songs. But John was on such a creative roll he also recorded a number of other songs for a follow-up album.
“[Double Fantasy] is about very ordinary things between two people. The lyrics are direct. Simple and straight. I went through my Dylanesque period a long time ago with songs like ‘I Am the Walrus’—the trick of never saying what you mean but giving the impression of something more. Where more or less can be read into it.”
John Lennon
But his tragic murder only three weeks after Double Fantasy’s release ended the dream. Those additional rough takes of songs would eventually be released posthumously, in 1984, as Milk and Honey, including the Top Ten hit “Nobody Told Me,” which Lennon originally planned on giving to his former band mate Ringo Starr for his own album.
Keeping the Dream Alive
The humor and optimism of those final six Lennon songs found on Milk and Honey made his death an even more bitter pill to swallow, as it became painfully clear that he had so much left to say, and so much more to reveal about the beauty of life and our collective place in the world.
“I’m not claiming divinity. I’ve never claimed purity of soul. I’ve never claimed to have the answers to life. I only put out songs as honestly as I can. I’m older now. I see the world through different eyes now. But I still believe in peace, love, and understanding.”
John Lennon
During one of his final interviews, Lennon remarked: “I still believe in love, in peace. I still believe in positive thinking. While there’s life, there’s hope… My work won’t be finished until I’m dead and buried, and I hope that’s a long, long time.”
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. Yet, in looking at how much John Lennon gave us during the brief 12 years when he was actually writing and recording music, it was long enough indeed.
Where It All Began: Liverpool
Back in 2016, my lifelong dream of visiting Liverpool came true (yeah, I’m a rock nerd, so it’s akin to visiting the Holy Land. Whatever…). Walking the very streets and inside the family homes and seeing the humble beginnings that gave rise to four lads who would change music forever made for an unforgettable visit.
The seaport city of Liverpool, which also had the first provincial airport in Britain, was a major bombing target of Hitler during WWII, 80 raids in all between 1940-41. When it was all said and done, more than 2,500 Liverpudlians were killed in the blitzkrieg with nearly half of all the homes in Liverpool being destroyed.
Growing up as young children in these dark times, it’s little wonder why the youth of Liverpool in the 1950s began looking for hope and happier times through the import of American rock & roll and blues.
As we celebrate John’s birthday today, I pulled together a few photos and memories of Lennon’s hometown and related stops during that memorable journey, including a private tour of the Casbah Club with Rory Best—brother of the Beatles’ original drummer Pete Best—whose mother ran the Casbah that was in the cellar of the family’s home.
The Casbah is a forgotten piece of Beatle history as the young Lennon, McCartney and Harrison painted and designed the club’s interior as a way for the trio—then known as The Quarrymen—to perform there. The three, along with guitarist Ken Brown (they had no drummer during this period), performed a residency at the Casbah between 1959-60, as well as periodic performances over the next few years.
This is where they built their early Liverpool following and honed their performance chops, which they would take to the more famous Cavern Club—where they would be discovered by their future manager Brian Epstein—and to their well-known performance stints in the bawdy streets of Hamburg, Germany.
After changing their name to The Beatles and having Pete Best join as the band’s drummer, John, Paul, George and Pete played the final night of the Casbah’s existence on June 24, 1962, with 1,500 fans who managed to either squeeze in the tiny venue or listen on the grounds outside.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this quick trip to the land that gave us the Fab Four…
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes
A four of fish and finger pies
In summer. Meanwhile back….
Of every head he’s had the pleasure to know
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say, “Hello”
The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And though she feels as if she’s in a play
She is anyway
Let me take you down
‘Cause I’m going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Happy Birthday, John…
