Just how much of Mad Men's budget went toward licensing The Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows," which helped end "Lady Lazarus"?* As pointed out several times in the episode, getting a Beatles' song licensed is pretty much out of reach, and times haven't changed much at all in that regard. So it was interesting to see a song finally put to use.
*UPDATE: FORBES reports the total amounted to a cool quarter million dollars.
Interesting that Megan told Don to start with the closing track on Revolver, as I'd think that would be the worst place to start at that time. But since Don wants a crash course in "what's now," the choice works. And in the context of a song choice for the episode, it works as well, backing Pete's visual rendezvous with his commute buddy's wife. The condensation heart was a nice touch. Between the droning single chord, backwards guitars and sitar, "Tomorrow Never Knows" helps cement the more radical cultural movement happening during season 5. The song, like Roger's new outlook, came as the first result of a Beatle taking LSD. John Lennon followed instructions from The Psychedelic Experience: A Manual Based on the Tibetan Book of the Dead, even borrowing a line from the book, specifically from the line "When in doubt, relax, turn off your mind, float downstream". Can you blame Matt Weiner for bringing back the song in the closing credits? I mean, you've already shelled out the cash, might as well try and get your money's worth.
Not sure the song did anything for Don, who's playing catch up, like he did with poetry and French New Wave cinema a season prior. Funny that a song from 1937 (The Wedgewoods' "September in the Rain") could fool Don into thinking it was The Beatles. Music really is his blind spot.
Martin Scorcese's George Harrison: Living in the Material World airs in 2 parts on HBO
“George himself is no mystery. But the mystery inside George is immense. It’s watching him uncover it all little by little that’s so damn interesting.”
- John Lennon
George Harrison was more than just "the quiet one," and the fact that he was able to keep a substantial amount of mystery about him while being one of the most famous faces on the planet is alone enough to warrant a documentary. Director Martin Scorcese, with his fourth glorious rock documentary after profiling The Band (The Last Waltz, Bob Dylan (No Direction Home) and the Rolling Stones (Shine a Light), does his best to lift the veil on Harrison through a marathon-length film that's as thorough as it is thought provoking.
The film is broken up into two parts (to be aired on Wednesday and Thursday nights on HBO) that could be categorized as "With the Beatles" and "Post-Beatles." While the first part doesn't break any new ground for Beatles fans, it serves and an incredible set up for the revelations in part 2. With the Beatles you see multitudes of Harrison's songs get left on the drawing room floor, making the 22 song solo debut (All Things Must Pass -- what many, including myself, consider the best post-Beatles album by any of the members) that much more triumphant. Scorcese has really outdone himself here, even finding himself in the mystery of George Harrison. It's a must watch for any HBO subscriber, otherwise look for it on DVD possibly later this year.
Meanwhile, Canadian songstress Feist is back this week with her third solo release, Metals. If there was one thing that marked her first two releases, it was the ability to make even the most depressing of subjects sound bouncy and joyous. With Metals, though, the exuberance is mostly gone, making this album a far moodier affair. The moods, though, are quite brilliant, and Feist shows no signs of running out of musical ideas. Feist plays Letterman on Tuesday.
Elsewhere, Mastodon also graces the stage at Ed Sullivan Theatre, tearing up Letterman on Wednesday. As I mentioned last week, I'm awfully smitten with their latest, The Hunter, and after having seen them open for Soundgarden, I can tell you do not want to miss this wondrous culture clash. (Hope Paul Shaffer works his way into sitting in, adding some cheese keys to the affair.) Also: Look for Radiohead Monday on Fallon. (How weird is it that a Radiohead appearance on Fallon only warrants only an also?)
Or, I could have easily titled it "Do You Want To Know a Secret," thanks to the use of The Beatles' song of the same name -- an instrumental cover version, of course, because Lionsgate/AMC likely couldn't afford the real licensing fee. This high cost of clearance fit in nicely with Don and his G.I.-man induced panic attack.
Of course we knew The Beatles would have to make an appearance in some regard (they were mentioned in passing earlier this season), and the first Shea Stadium show from 1965 is the obvious choice, occurring at the height of Beatlemania.
Long before David Chase felt it necessary to leave the country when the series finale for The Sopranos aired, there was Patrick McGoohan and his series the The Prisoner (1967-1968). The series finale ("Fall Out") so infuriated and puzzled viewers, McGoohan had to retreat to the mountains of Wales to get peace. McGoohan's uncompromising series was willfully weird and vague to the very end, but like The Sopranos, there was closure for those who were willing to accept it.
From the beginning, The Prisoner was meant to thumb its nose at the existing rules that governed television series creation. McGoohan had tired of playing secret agent John Drake (that's right DRAKE) in the series Danger Man (aka, Secret Agent), but was able to parlay his value to ITV into greenlighting his idea for this new series. Originally conceived as a seven episode arc, the seventeen hours that were produced encompass some of the most uncompromising work television has ever seen. The influence on other/current shows cannot be under sold either -- Lost (the smoke monster modeled after Rover), Battlestar Galactica (Number Six anyone) and even the recently cancelled Dollhouse (concept of individual vs society and technology).
That individual vs society theme came out strong in the opening episode ("The Arrival"), but the series ended in a manner that felt a bit rushed and willfully weird -- much like the Beatles film Magical Mystery Tour, which is appropriate since the fab four were big fans and contributed MMT's "All You Need Is Love" for the finale (Number 1 was the Walrus). Even rushed, there was a lot of meat still to chew on it. Number 6 battles with Number 2 always seemed a precursor to finding out who Number 1 was, but in the end, it's the self that is the number one enemy, as revealed in the finale.
The other interesting theme was the Village/society co-opting rebellion. When rebellion is embraced, what can you rebel against?This last point is made especially clear with the beatnik Number 48, singing "Dem Bones," and talkin' bebop "daddy-o." The magistrate cops his lingo, though, and eventually, the black & white masked jury starts singing "Dem Bones" (actually, it's "Dry Bones" here, by The Four Lads), confusing the rebellious #48, who then kind of gives up. Later, after everyone has escaped and the village is left in disarray thanks to a rocket being launched (!), Number 6 ends up back home. Of course, his door opens automatically, like in the village, and we're left with a final visage of him driving like in the intro. Nothing has changed -- he's still a prisoner.
We all are.
AMC's gamble of a reboot, airing this Sunday, is purportedly to be nearly as weird, but really is a no-win situation. Remaking a cult classic that had such a distinct stamp put on it by its creator would be sacrilege, and to change it entirely might lose the point of the series. While what I've seen looks beautiful, reviews have notbeenfavorable. I want to root for it just to champion 'outside the box' television, and will do the first two hours for sure. But an escape plan is already in the works for if and when AMC's version begins to plod.
What do you get when you parade 36 music artists through a legendary music studio? Probably a hefty cleaning bill. But also some magical performances... and when you add some cameras, you've got yourself some quality summer television viewing. Premiering this Thursday on the Sundance Channel is the live music program Live From Abbey Road, which is a rebroadcasting here of what folks in the UK already saw on BBC's Channel 4 earlier this year (it's also been broadcasted already in Australia and Japan as well.)
The premiere features Mayer, Jones and Richard Ashcroft, and actually aired as the 11th episode (of 12) on the BBC, but because Sundance is looking for a wider US audience to tune in, they bubbled this one up to the top. I understand the reasoning, but it's unfortunate that for the first foot forward we have to listen to John Mayer wax poetic about his pedestrian "Gravity." And to see Richard Ashcroft still playing the song ("Bittersweet Symphony") that both made and destroyed his band The Verve, could've been a story in and of itself... one that is oddly ignored in the interview with Ashcroft. The second episode seems far more entertaining, with Red Hot Chili Peppers, Madeleine Peyroux and Snow Patrol all sharing air time from the legendary studio.
The diversity of acts on a given episode reminds me a bit of the old NBC show in the late 80's called Night Music, only on that program (hosted by David Sanborn, and later Jools Holland) artists would jam together on a song at the end. For instance, Sonic Youth jammed with The Indigo Girls on Iggy Pop's "I Wanna Be Your Dog" (Click here or look below for video proof.) Can you imagine flamenco masters The Gipsy Kings, UK pop sensation Natasha Bedngfield, and legends of metal Iron Maiden all getting together to play "Hey Jude"? Now that would be some entertaining television. (The Gipsy Kings actually do perform a Spanish version of "Hey Jude" for their segment.)
Of course the series also serves as a great chance to get a look inside the famous studio, where The Beatles recorded nearly all their work from 1962-1970 (192 of the Beatles' 202 songs.) To that point, each episode features a blast from the studio's past, this first episode celebrates the 40th anniversary of The Beatles live performance of "All You Need Is Love," in what was then the first global satellite transmission. It's easily the highlight of this first episode from the series.
While the studio is famous for The Beatles recordings, since the 1980s the studio has been the place to go for scoring film. They recently celebrated 25 years of scoring, from Indiana Jones to The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Abbey Road has been at the forefront.
I'll also be highlighting upcoming episodes from time to time on Ear on TV.
