Archive for the ‘Correction’ Category

‘Beatles ’65’ & The Long-Ago Photo

Tuesday, August 13th, 2019

Here I am in December 1964, sporting my Beatle wig and offering my mock assessment of Beatles ’65, which my sister and I had just received for Christmas. This long-sought photo, with “Christmas 1964” written on the back in my dad’s handwriting, answers a question that had been hanging in the air for more than ten years.

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In October of 2008, I wrote:

One of our family traditions at Christmas during my childhood was that just before we left St. Cloud for the three-hour drive to my grandparents’ home, either my mom or my dad would go back into the house to check on something. While in the house, Mom or Dad would pull from a closet two additional gifts, unwrapped, and place one on my bed and one on my sister’s bed, evidence we’d find when we came home from Grandpa’s that Santa Claus had not overlooked us just because we’d been out of town.

The gifts we found on our beds were generally toys and games, standard 1960s childhood fare. Twice, my sister and I shared gifts: One year, we each found the end of a ribbon on our beds, and found the ribbons attached to the game Geography, a game we enjoyed for many years. In December of 1965, we each found an envelope, containing pieces of a note that had been cut up. We quickly realized we each had only half a note and combined our pieces. The note read:

“We come to thee from across the sea
“With melodies quite rare.
“Which you will find if you look
“There or there.”

We looked at each other, digesting the meaning of Dad’s bit of doggerel.

“It’s a record!” we said, nearly simultaneously, and we ran downstairs to the living room, where the RCA stereo and our household’s few LPs were kept. There, in the front of the stack of records, was a crisp, new copy of Beatles ’65. As soon as we unpacked a little, we were allowed to open the record and play it for the first time.

Beatles ’65 was one of those records that Capitol – which issued Beatles’ recordings in the U.S. – created piecemeal, in this case by pulling some songs from Beatles For Sale, one track from the British version of A Hard Day’s Night and adding the single “I Feel Fine/She’s A Woman,” which was not released on an album in the UK at the time.

I don’t know how well my sister liked the record. She never seemed to be too interested in the Beatles. As for me, I was still a few years from being a rock ’n’ roll boy. But I liked some of it: the opener “No Reply,” the feedback-triggered “I Feel Fine,” the sweet folk rock of “I’ll Be Back” and “I’ll Follow The Sun.” But my favorite track of all – and thus the first rock ’n’ roll cover I loved – was the Beatles’ take on [Chuck] Berry’s “Rock and Roll Music.”

Sharp-eyed Beatles fans among my readership noted a potential problem: The album Beatles ’65 had been released in December 1964, with its title anticipating the coming year. I acknowledged that we might have gotten the album in 1964. A year later, in August 2009, after I wrote about the acquisition of the album in the context of my albums database, I wrote about the discrepancy:

Memory is a slippery creature. I read or heard somewhere about recent research into memory, and the theory was – and this is necessarily a paraphrase – that when we remember an event, our brain overlays the original memory with our new memory of that event, so the next time we recall that specific moment, we’re processing a second-generation memory and creating a third-generation memory. (Without any irony, I have to say that I cannot at all remember where I read or heard that bit of information.)

That seems to make some sense, even though it means our memories eventually become thinner and possibly distorted, like a favorite recording that’s seven generations removed from the original tape.

I got to thinking about this after Wednesday’s Vinyl Record Day post about the development of my LP database. Art D., a reader in Michigan, emailed me that afternoon and asked if I had the right date for Beatles ’65, after I said my sister and I received it for Christmas in 1965. He said the record had been released in December 1964. I nodded to myself, having verified that date at All-Music Guide that morning. I emailed back.

I said, in part, about Beatles ’65, that my sister and I got the record in 1965, about a year after it came out. I added:

“That’s what the red ink on it says, and that inscription dates from the day I began marking my LPs in 1970, and I suppose I could have erred then, and we actually got the album in 1964. At this point, we’ll never know for sure. I think, though, that I would have remembered – given the way I recall odd details – the paradox of getting a record titled Beatles ’65 when it was still 1964.”

And writing those words – “I think, though, that I would have remembered . . . the paradox of getting a record titled Beatles ’65 when it was still 1964” – triggered another memory, a recollection of a very young whiteray looking at the record jacket that December night and wondering about that very paradox. It’s not the kind of memory that jumps up and says, “Here I am and here you were!” It’s more like it’s dancing on the edge of clarity, so I’m not sure about trusting it . . .

I imagine that on that summer day in 1970, I looked at the title of the album and just assumed it came out in 1965 and thus showed up in our house that December. I might have been wrong; the record might have been there a year earlier.

But I’m going to be gentle with the kid I was back then. I examined the record and its jacket this morning, and there’s no copyright date on either, no hint of the year of issue. Beyond that, I would have had no idea in 1970 where to go to find out when Beatles ’65 was released. As I think of it today, I probably could have gone out to Musicland at the mall or to the library at St. Cloud State and learned something in either one of those places. Knowing the correct release date might have changed my mind about when we got the record. But at sixteen, I didn’t think of that. I did the best I could.

There is one thing I do know for certain about that December night when we found Beatles ’65 next to the stereo. I’ve seen the photographic evidence: Somewhere among all the slides in Mom’s storage unit is a slide showing me sitting in Dad’s chair, wearing my Beatle wig, holding Beatles ’65 in my lap and quite possibly putting my fingers in my ears as a jest.

I wrote to Art D. that “we’ll never know for sure.” But we might. If I ever find that one slide among the thousands in the storage unit, and if Dad wrote the date on the cardboard, we’ll know. I do have a hunch that, if I ever find that picture of me and it has a date on it, I’ll be changing the acquisition year in my database to 1964. But that’s just a hunch, so I’ll leave it for now.

And yesterday, just more than ten years since I wrote those words, I received a package from my sister, who’s been going through boxes of my parents’ stuff. Among the genealogical folders and assorted school pictures, I found that photo of me from December 1964 shown at the top of this post. It wasn’t a slide; it was a print. My fingers-in-ears assessment of the album was, of course, a joke. As I noted in the first post I quoted above, I liked the album. I still like it. And I uploaded it to YouTube this morning with the audio recorded from my 1964 Christmas gift, but that video was blocked worldwide. So I went and found a playlist of the album.

Here are the tracks and their origins:

“No Reply” (From Beatles For Sale)
“I’m A Loser” (From Beatles For Sale)
“Baby’s In Black” (From Beatles For Sale)
“Rock & Roll Music” (From Beatles For Sale)
“I’ll Follow The Sun” (From Beatles For Sale)
“Mr. Moonlight” (From Beatles For Sale)
“Honey Don’t” (From Beatles For Sale)
“I’ll Be Back” (From A Hard Day’s Night)
“She’s A Woman” (British single)
“I Feel Fine” (British single)
“Everybody’s Trying To Be My Baby” (From Beatles For Sale)

‘This Beat’ Went On Longer Than I Thought

Tuesday, October 5th, 2010

Edited and revised.

John Picard, guitar player for the Kings and co-writer – with Kings’ vocalist David Diamond – of “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ To Glide,” stopped by today and left a note on yesterday’s post. He said the Kings have put together their own video for the tune, adding that it’s “much more fun” than the video I posted from YouTube yesterday.

The video, he said, is at the group’s YouTube channel thekingsarehere and at the Kings’ own website, The Kings Are Here.

It’s also available right here. (Well, not quite. This video shows the band’s reaction after its video was removed from YouTube. The song video is below.)

He noted as well that “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ To Glide” made it to “the low 40s” on the Billboard chart, not to No. 56, as I noted. I should explain how my error occurred. I don’t have the Billboard book for the Hot 100. I have separate notepad files for each week’s Hot 100. So when I track a record’s arc, I go from file to file, week by week, and when I saw that “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ To Glide” had fallen to No. 98 by the end of October 1980, I shrugged and quit looking, assuming that the record then left the charts. I was wrong: The record rebounded and peaked at No. 43 the week of December 13, 1980.

Thanks for the note and the link, John.

Afterwards . . .
Here’s the right one: