Monthly Archives: October 2013

The Relevance Of “Silly Love Songs”


OK, group, we’re done using “Silly Love Songs” as some sort of barometer to measure McCartney’s work. We’re done using it as a pivot point from which to compare his later work. we are done propping up our dismissal of McCartney’s solo career with it. We’re done not getting it, and we are especially done using it as a crutch–and all of this is aimed at critics, and to a lesser extent the Cult Of Lennon.

First off, let’s put “Silly Love Songs” in perspective. for one, that song was only a small part of who McCartney was and is as an artist–I mean a very very small part. Taking it out of context and grinning with glee as critics prop up their ignorant views of McCartney with it has been a pop press pastime for far too long. Let’s look at the song in context of the album from which it came, “Wings At the Speed Of Sound,” while not a major favorite, the album has grown on me greatly, and there are times where its vibe is the ONLY vibe that will do… so I play it and enjoy it… I am playing it now! Track by track, the album itself proves that so-called “Silly Love Songs” were far from the norm for McCartney, not only on Speed Of Sound, but before and after Speed Of Sound.

“Let ‘Em In,” is another song that is oft dismissed, though foolishly so, by, well… fools. The song is far from shallow, and is in fact a rather elegantly simple plea that we let the good people in, into our homes, our hearts, and our culture. Odd, that McCartney’s subtle use of metaphor was absolutely missed by the very people who think they are too smart for him… it is obvious upon reflection that he was too smart for them all along. Additionally, production-wise, the plodding rhythm of the song builds to an interesting intensity. “The Note You Never Wrote” is not so much a love song as a song of loss and loneliness… and those were the sorts of songs McCartney excelled at, songs about very specific loneliness. In tone the song has tremendous vibe, and is quite a trippy treat as it slowly draws us into its spartan solitude. “She’s My Baby,” is indeed a love song, but quite an adoring one, and quite personal, and let’s not dismiss the great jazzy melody of this one. “Beware My Love” is far from a poppy silly love song, and is instead a rather intense roller-coaster rocker. “Wino Junko,” which was written and performed by Jimmy McCulloch, is, and yet, another song about addiction. Now we come to “Silly Love Songs,” and will talk about that later. “Cook Of the House,” well… I really never liked that one much, but it’s quite an odd topic for a pop-rock song. “Time To Hide” is a Denny Laine tune, bluesy and potent. “Must Do Something About It” is a charming tune McCartney wrote, again about a very specific reaction to loneliness. “San Ferry Anne” is one of McCartney’s finest, a charming and eccentric little piece of wistful mysticism. We end with “Warm and Beautiful” which, while a love song, is anything but silly. So as you can see… his “Silly Love Songs” days were behind him even then, not merely behind him… they never happened. “Silly Love Songs” was always the exception with McCartney and NEVER the rule, all of his songs were far too imaginative for that.

So, how did this whole derision of “Silly Love Songs” start? John Lennon. He had said dismissively in interviews that all McCartney did was write silly love songs. I could go through McCartney’s entire catalog to disprove this, but won’t, as the charge is simply Lennon being an asshole. It is so utterly untrue that the fact that it stuck baffles me. Any tour through Band On the Run as an album reveals that the statement is pure nonsense. of course the critics (especially at Rolling Stone) were in bed with John and Yoko, and most of the criticism of McCartney strung from that incestuous place, and as the Cult Of Lennon grew, so did the mythology of that statement. Why did Lennon say that? Jealousy. Lennon could not handle that McCartney was more talented, famous, and successful than he was, so he ground his axe on McCartney’s skull endlessly, and loving an aggressive swaggering cynic, the pop press was more than ready to get in line and kiss Lennon’s ass. McCartney, fed up, eventually wrote a response to Lennon’s bullshit, and that response was “Silly Love Songs.” A direct passive-aggressive reply that quite hilariously blew up in Lennon’s face as the song became one of McCartney’s biggest hits. How’s that for Instant Karma?

The song and its lyrics are far from saccharine as the press and critics assert, it is in fact, quite acidic and far from silly, it is deeply personal and painful in inspiration. This is not a fluffy song, it is a plea to be understood, a profound statement in defense of McCartney’s point of view (world view)… nothing remotely silly about that at all. McCartney opens singing:

“You’d think that people would have had enough of silly love songs,
But I look around me and I see it isn’t so,
Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs,
And what’s wrong with that?
Id like to know, cause here I go again.”

As you can see by the song’s opening, he is replying directly to Lennon, and essentially saying, “Sod off, buddy, ain’t nothin’ wrong with love songs.” Let’s add to this that a vast majority of Lennon’s songs were silly love songs, and in fact ones far less palatable than McCartney’s. I, for one, have NO desire to hear myopic songs about Yoko Ono.

The song itself is, as you can see, aggressive, and a very very direct response to Lennon. Why, some might ask, would McCartney take this aggressive and defensive stance, then sweeten the tune with pop sensibilities? Juxtaposition and irony, the great ones always are very aware of the power of juxtaposition, irony, and as we discussed with “Let ‘Em In,” metaphor. McCartney has used juxtaposition and irony since the Beatles, see “Helter Skelter” and “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.” Beyond merely being a response, “Silly Love Songs” is a taunt, a satire, a mockery of Lennon’s bullshit. So not only is McCartney using the juxtaposition of his poppy tune and pained and angry subject matter, he is being ironic by responding to the accusation that he writes silly poppy love songs by couching his response and defense within the confines of the very sort of song he was being accused of writing. Brilliant! McCartney goes on…

“I love you, I love you,
I love you, I love you,
I can’t explain the feelings plain to me, say can’t you see?
Ah, she gave me more, she gave it all to me,
Now can’t you see,
What’s wrong with that,
I need to know, cause here I go again,
I love you, I love you.”

Beautiful. McCartney is defending not only love songs, but Linda and his love for her. he continues his reply to Lennon by pointing out that there is nothing silly about love at all… which Lennon should have known considering the plethora of silly love songs he crapped out.

“Love doesn’t come in a minute,
Sometimes it doesn’t come at all,
I only know that when I’m in it,
It isn’t silly, no, it isn’t silly, love isn’t silly at all.”

And that’s just it, Lennon, critics, and hipsters… ain’t nothing silly about love or love songs at all. At its core, the contempt people feel for this song is rather a conflict of world views. McCartney is a romantic, Lennon, the critics, and most rock fans are cynics. of course cynics are suspicious of love and joy, and celebrations of love and joy, but here’s the rub, cynicism is not intelligence… it is the lazy man’s way of being intellectual. Cynicism (especially cynicism that dismisses the grandly romantic) is merely a crutch for people who want an instant gratification version of intellectualism.

Let’s add to this that “Silly Love Songs” is actually deceptively simple… in other words, there is nothing especially simple about it, the melody, though catchy, is really rather intricate compared to… say… Lennon’s songs. And of course there is the spectacular bass line! Even Lennon was willing to begrudgingly throw McCartney that bone. of course the song itself, when truly listened to, is anything but pedestrian disco, it is very McCartney, his fingerprints as a melodist are all over this tune. His sense of structure and drama alone raise this song above the other pop tunes of the time. Then of course there are the cascading vocal harmonies and dynamics. It is more a song to be listened to than dismissed.

But what bugs me most is that for nearly 40 years now people have been throwing this song in McCartney’s face. Nowadays it has become one of the great predictabilities of Rolling Stone and half-witted pop-pressdom to open any positive statement about a McCartney album or song by derisively announcing that “McCartney’s Silly Love Songs are behind him.” Well… fuck you, he never was living in his silly love songs, you were. Pay attention! There just aren’t that many silly love songs in McCartney’s catalog, and if there were, I have to ask…. “What’s wrong with that” anyhow?

Lastly I would like to add that I for one don’t find love songs all that silly, especially not McCartney’s. His are usually quite original and personal, far too much so to be silly. And as even the quick assessment of the album “Silly Love Songs” came from (see above), McCartney just didn’t write all that many fluffy or silly pop love songs. Since the beginning he has been out on the road kicking ass and rocking, creating experimental and trippy progressive rock, and expressing himself eloquently, so the problem is not his music, the problem is the assholes who refuse to take that wad of shit Lennon shoved in their ears out to listen to McCartney’s music on their own terms. The people who are still going on about “Silly Love Songs” are simply dimwitted followers looking for easy answers, people with too little imagination to go where McCartney wants to take them.

Besides all that, I for one would not want to live in a world with none of McCartney’s love songs, silly or not, many of those precious few songs are dear to me, and as his work and music outlives his critics, they will prove to be dear to the rest of the world as well.

So move on dinosaurs, let go, and get your heads out of your asses! It ain’t McCartney stuck in silly love songs, and never was… it’s you that is stuck there. I’ve thrown you a rope, you can use it to hang yourselves or pull yourself out of the muck you are stuck in… your choice.

Why No Justine Review Of “NEW” By Paul McCartney?



I’ve been asking myself why I haven’t posted a “review” of Paul McCartney’s latest album… “NEW.” My answer is rather complicated, and requires a little foundational understanding. See, I believe that the process of making art is shamanic, the purpose of making art is shamanic, sacred, therefor artists are shaman. Great artists, masters, are of course sacred, perhaps almost luminous beings. They are beyond the words, or even understanding, of the average man (or woman), especially beyond the understanding of critics and their silly little “reviews.”

Besides all that I simply feel that the act of being a critic is immoral, an act of vandalism, and the words of critics, and the act of allowing critics to be of any importance at all, merely drags art into the lowly gutter of the common man. By their very nature critics take the pearls artists cast before swine and bury them in the slop… thinking themselves and their foolish little opinions of great import as they muddy the pearls. It’s rather grotesque, actually.


Looking through history at the hilarious wrongness of the words of critics when discussing masterpieces has taught me that the mere existence of critics is not merely immoral, but annoying. They are rather like flies buzzing around a picnic. Problem is, we can’t just put out critic-paper, get a bunch of ’em stuck on it and throw it away… they are slightly more clever than flies. So, let’s look at that… we have immoral cretins (critics) getting their filthy shitty bug-legs all over the golden works of masters. Who needs it. And while I’m onto “who needs it,” well, I know I don’t. I don’t need some critic to affirm or challenge what I know… they know far less than I. If critics really knew anything about music they would be musicians, if they knew anything about writing they would write… so what the hell are they, and what hell do they do anyway? In the words of Hans Christian Andersen… they do “nothing.”

Of course I wouldn’t have written a critique of McCartney’s latest, I would have written an exploration, an appreciation… I would have written questions for myself to answer as the album and its songs revealed its secrets to me over the coming years and decades. I will say, the first time I heard New I wept, and always at the same point… and wept the second and third times and beyond:

“May sweet memories of friends from the past,
Always comes to you, when you look for them,
And your inspiration, long may it last,
May it come to you, time and time again.”

What a divine and eloquent blessing for him to bestow upon his fellow artists. Yes, I wept, and wept that he was speaking so emotionally through the rest of the song about how people have tried to remove him of the credit he is do, and I wept into the next song or so in gratitude that Paul McCartney is still out there being so beautiful.

I have learned, personally, that many of the albums McCartney has created that I didn’t like, or dismissed, when I was young were simply over my head. Unfortunately when it comes to McCartney his albums have been over the head of the entire culture… and truly ahead of their times. Lots of artists are purported to be ahead of their time by critics, but rarely are they more than five or ten minutes ahead of their time. McCartney has at times been decades ahead of his time. In other words, it wasn’t that some of McCartney’s albums weren’t up to my standards, as time has rolled on I have realized that it was quite the opposite: I was not up to McCartney… he was dashing ahead and figuring eventually we would catch up. Well, I have. Time will make this all the more evident, trust me on this. McCartney is a master, and few masters walk the earth at any given time, plenty of great artists, a few legends, but precious few masters.

There is only one way to approach his latest album… with an awareness of his station. His album cannot be listened to with dismissive ears, with ears searching for the flaws, with petty little presuppositions; no, the album needs to be approached with respect, as something to study and learn from, as something that has something to teach, as the work of a master. We must bow before it, in the Hindu sense, as we bow before the ones we respect and love. McCartney is a master, and the works of masters must be approached with humility. To approach the work of a master as if we knew something he did not, as if we were somehow too smart for him, simply doesn’t make sense to me.

I also haven’t discussed the album with many people because I do not want to discuss it. In the past I would get excited about an album and try and get all my friends to come over for a listen… not anymore. If they are to discover the album, it probably won’t be through me this time. See, I don’t want to get involved in a conversation with someone for whom the album is just another pop album. It isn’t. We shouldn’t be comparing McCartney’s latest to Pearl Jam’s latest. There is no comparison, they are not on the same plane of existence. I don’t want to have to defend the album, defend McCartney, defend or explain my views. I just want to enjoy it in an isolation chamber.

If someone gets it, gets the album, gets the respect required to approach this work of art, then I would enjoy THAT discussion, otherwise… I’m putting my headphones back on, thank you very much.

What do you call a thousand critics at the bottom of the ocean?…

(To read the entire Hans Christian Andersen story “Something” follow this:

Cult Of Lennon’s Myopic View Addressed


beatleshamburgThe Cult Of Lennon has long had a myopic death-grip on the legend of the Beatles. It was, of course, spearheaded by Lennon, who was utterly shameless when it came to promoting his own importance and alleged superiority as well as grinding his axe in public. Unfortunately, the public (and Rolling Stone) bought and adapted Lennon’s myopic self-mythologizing without questioning it… and the bullshit sat, rotted, and permeated the fans and press. When Lennon died, this fragile myopic mythology became set in stone. Here, 30 years later, McCartney has finally decided to speak truth to bullshit with his touching song, “Early Days”. What is most striking to me about the song is not merely how moving it as a song, as pure melody, and not merely how stirring the production and arrangement both are, but how naked and honest the lyrics are. All of this suggests that this has been hurting McCartney for a very very long time.

Unlike Lennon who wrote first-person narratives, McCartney took the more challenging approach and chose to deal with his personal trials and tribulations by creating songs that were no less honest than Lennon’s, but far more universal. This is a technique McCartney has used since the Beatles, and continues to use. Recently, however, he has begun speaking rather frankly, and this song is one of the finest examples of his frankness. repeatedly it has brought tears to my eyes.

Here are the first few verses:

“Early Days”

They can’t take it from me, if they tried.
I lived through those early days,
So many times I had to change the pain to laughter,
Just to keep from getting crazed.

Dressed in black from head to toe,
Two guitars across our backs,
We would walk the city roads,
Seeking someone who would listen to the music,
That we were writing down at home.

They can’t take it from me, if they tried,
I lived through those early days,
So many times I had to change the pain to laughter,
Just to keep from getting crazed.

Hair slicked back with vaseline,
Like the pictures on the wall of the local record shop,
Hearing noises we where destined to remember,
We willed the thrill to never stop.

Now, of course there is more. So far McCartney has simply set the stage and made his thesis clear. “We willed the thrill to never stop” may be one of the most profound lyrics in the song, as that is of course, the challenge in life. Keeping the thrill alive is an immense challenge to those of us who want to maintain our energy… and Sir Paul has certainly proven through this high energy album that the thrill has never stopped for him, even if it has stopped for most of his fans and colleagues.

Then comes the next verse, and a blessing that has made me cry each time I have heard this song. The blessing is not merely moving, but revealing… McCartney is wishing upon the world the true blessings of his spiritual wealth. More specifically, this song is touching as he is talking to “US,” other musicians and artists, by so beautifully wishing us that our inspiration may last.

May sweet memories of friends from the past,
Always comes to you, when you look for them,
And your inspiration, long may it last,
May it come to you, time and time again.

But that is not all… he follows that with a statement so achingly personal that the tears kept coming from me, and a statement that lays to rest all the silly contortions Lennon Cultists go through to maintain the absurd purity of their myopic view.

Now everybody seems to have there own opinion,
Who did this and who did that,
But as for me I don’t see how they can remember,
When they weren’t where it was at.

Case closed, I would like to add. How could all these writers and fans really know? Of course they don’t, didn’t, and won’t.

They can’t take it from me, if they tried,
I lived through those early days,
So many times I had to change the pain to laughter,
Just to keep from getting crazed.

I lived through those early days
I lived through those early days

Hearing an artist with the staggering dignity and magnificence of McCartney address this persistent source of pain with such openness is truly a gift we all should cherish. Songs from “New” are not to be judged, criticized, or picked apart by fans (or worse… sludge and grudge critics), they are not to be dismissed or shrugged off, no, these songs are to be approached with respect and gratitude, and the knowledge that if you don’t get it… it may well be because McCartney is firing these songs (just as he always has) way over your heads. This album is to be listened to on McCartney’s terms, not on yours, ours, or the terms dictated by critics. At 71, he still matters, is nowhere near through, and remains as relevant as ever… if only you have the ears and minds to hear it for what it is… wisdom from on high.

Sanity Returns!


Oh yes, after months and months of not being able to get out on the lake due to a compacting against the shore of the floating islands, I got out on the water today! Many of you may know that last year getting out on the lake in a kayak kept me sane, kept me rooted, spiritual, and helped me release tension. I have really missed being able to get out there and nap while the eagles and osprey flew overhead.

Glory be, our neighbor paid $2,500 (yeah, you read that right) to have the floating islands, that were destroying their view, ground up by some wicked machine. Fortunately we (Joe and I) were able to get out after 6 months landlocked, but what we hadn’t counted on was the acre of shit-like muck left behind… it was literally like (and literally smelled like) we were rowing through a sea of cow crap.

But once we worked through the acre of shit… it was smooth clean water. I don’t know, but it seems to me there was something symbolic about the whole experience. It always seems I have to row my boat through an acre of shit before I can enjoy any piece of mind or beauty.

Queenie Eye (McCartney)


Paul-McCartney-0713-3“Life’s a game,
Rags from riches,
Dogs and Bitches,
Hunt for fame.”

So often I lament Paul’s choice of singles, but not this time, he nailed it! The sonics of this song are spectacular, the arrangement perfect, and the structure as potent a mix of pop and art as ever’s been created. Though I cannot read the lyrics they are full of punch and vigor. I’m feeling like a little girl at Christmas with this album being less than a week away.

It will stun me to read and see people picking at and criticizing his stuff with the same flaccid grudge-filled cliches, I mean… shit, the music of THIS man is astounding even if you take out of account the fact that he is so obviously as inspired at 71 as he was at 21. At this point if people can’t get over themselves and see how profound a gift it is to be alive while Paul McCartney is making music… to heck with ’em!

This tune is as relevant, fresh and punchy as anything I’ve ever heard. It is alive and now in sound and inspiration. “Queenie Eye,” like McCartney himself, is full of delightful surprises and complicated turns.

So few things hit me with that feeling of being flooded with joy and energy, hope and tingling, so when I am hit with that vivid experience, it resounds. This song, each time I listened to it, filled me with the same goosebump chill… it’s a feeling many of us don’t often capture as we get older, but I am open and work to find those moments. With “Queenie Eye” I didn’t have to work for it at all.

Listen to the song at this link:

OK Let’s Stop the Beatle Boyband Shit Already!


The+BeatlesNever+Mind+The+Tremeloes...+Here's+The+Beatles+(2011)+FrtOK, let’s stop this Beatles “boyband” comparison shit. I know that when a band (person, actor, leader, artist) is the biggest thing ever, people just can’t stand it and they have to go on the attack and disassemble them, but this is utter rubbish. I don’t know who started it or where this idea that the Beatles were the first boyband came from, but I’m announcing the end of it here. We are no longer allowed to mutter some crap about the Beatles being the first boyband… as a culture we are done with that. Yes, I, Justine, have the power to make such proclamations and changes of cultural norms and manias, I simply haven’t used that power for good up until today.

The Beatles were far closer to a Punk band early on than a boyband… see attached photo! Yes, they were more like the Ramones than NKOTB, and in so many ways, let’s list them quickly so we can all just drop this:

1) They were not a boyband, boybands aren’t bands. The Beatles were a band. If you can’t see that difference, stop reading.
2) The Beatles endured serious trials of fire in dangerous clubs, toured their asses off and gigged in sweaty little shitholes like any band worth their salt.
3) The Beatles played their own instruments.
4) The Beatles wrote their own songs.
5) The Beatles kicked ass! Their early rock was incomparable, no one could touch them when they were hot, and that includes the fucking Stones!
6) They were little hoodlums from Liverpool, a hard-ass seaport town… not models or refugees from Disney TV.

If it looks like a punk, acts like a punk, plays like a punk and lives like a punk… it’s a fucking punk!

Can I stop here, or do I have to hammer this home? I’d like to stop here.

Marquis de Boehner


If you want to understand Republicans, read the Marquis de Sade.

I am not joking about this, far more than Ayn Rand, the Marquis de Sade exemplified in his writing what sort of devilry goes on in the heads of Republicans. It’s quite disturbing that his belief system so mirrors theirs.

A Vacation From My Head


(If you bother to read this, please do not take it too seriously, it’s like a rotten Dr. Seuss rip-off that doesn’t work… and I am not worrying about that either!)

I am taking a vacation from my head,
I’m not worrying about that,
not this weekend,
No tit no tat.

I am not worrying about…
Foodstamps or Republican bull,
Gardening or Garfield,
I’m gonna be cool.

I am not worrying about my standing,
In the courtyard or at home,
In Ohio or Florida,
Or wherever I roam.

I’m not looking at paperclutter,
And my email can wait,
And so can we,
And I may be late.

I am not worrying about that,
It is my stay away,
From my head,
Friday through Sunday.

I am not worrying about,
Who I love or who I hate,
I may dally as I said…
I may be late.

I am not worrying about my health,
Nor healthcare nor cancer,
Not now, not me,
Today I am a dancer.

I am not worrying about this poem,
It was written free,
So everyone knows,
To leave me be.

I am not worrying about being so alone,
Nor being away from my pad,
Nor who I may see,
Nor even my dad.

I won’t worry because,
I have people to see,
Plenty of grass,
And a good look at me.