#sgt. pepper sessions

[sounwise]

[“Fixing a Hole” is] a very simply constructed song, built around a harpsichord and a bass guitar. Even before we got into the studio, Paul wanted to use a harpsichord as the mainstay of his rhythm; even so, the bass line is more important than the harpsichord line. Paul had to play bass guitar on it, because nobody could (or can) play that instrument quite like him. That meant somebody else was going to have to play keyboards. This was unusual, because Paul always liked to play his own keyboards on his own compositions. The part of honorary stand-in keyboard player to the greatest group in the world was offered to me. It wasn’t too difficult, and it didn’t seem likely to tax my non-virtuoso technique too much. Paul let rip with a superb and melodic bass line—something that was rapidly becoming his style. He used the instrument like a voice: he was never content to just use the dominant and tonic—the normal plodding sequences of a bass—as many others did. He wanted to make that bass sing. Whenever he had something to say, he said it most eloquently using the instrument he loved the best. […] Of all the Beatles, Paul was the most talented musician. When I first met him he could not play the piano at all. It was a very short time indeed from then to ‘Lady Madonna’, which is a very complicated and extremely good piano track played entirely by Paul, and a measure of his musicianship. Paul could play the drums, technically, better than any of the others, including Ringo (although he could never get anything like the distinctive sound Ringo got from his kit). So, by default, Paul took over the most difficult instrument to play with any originality in a rock ’n’ roll band: the bass guitar.

[—from With a Little Help from My Friends: The Making of Sgt. Pepper, George Martin]

#george martin speaks so highly of paul in every book it is very sweet #i wonder if the sgt pepper-era photographs of them side-by-side at the piano are from this session #also the fact that in george martin’s assessment paul couldn't play the piano in '62 always makes me think that #in hamburg paul's piano game was uhhh not so good lol #(george martin similarly mentions in All You Need Is Ears that after he signed them he started learning guitar for the sake of having a #mutually familiar instrument through which they could communicate but paul and john learned piano so quickly it became unnecessary) #with a little help from my friends: the making of sgt. pepper #george martin #paul mccartney #the beatles #sgt. pepper sessions #paul's musicianship

[undying-love]

"MPL's [Paul's London office] interior style is quietly art deco. Its walls are hung with modern paintings, or framed photos by Linda McCartney, and pride of place goes to her famous shot of Paul and John, laughing and grasping each other's hands at a Sgt. Pepper party in 1967." (Conversations With McCartney, Paul Du Noyer, 2016)

"Children's artwork hung on the walls and above the doors. He was a guy who could afford Picassos, but chose to display his kids' finger-paintings. A big jukebox shone from his sitting room. On the bulletin board in the kitchen were personal photos of McCartney with John Lennon." (http://www.meetthebeatlesforreal.com/2014/09/one-fans-secret-paul-adventure.html)

"A quick scan of his studio kitchen reveals a copy of Mary McCartney’s recipe book and a John Lennon calendar; March’s pin-up is “Moody John” in sunglasses posed against the New York skyline." (Interview with Mark Blake for Q: Songs in the key of Paul. May, 2015)

"I recently bought a lot of drawings and writings by John. I have them on my wall so I get to look at them all the time." (Paul, The Lyrics, 2021)

“McCartney tells me he treasures a six-foot-tall print of a photo he has of himself and Lennon, taken by Linda during the White Album sessions. "I've got the pad and I'm writing, and he's just looking over at me, and you can see the body language and everything: These guys love each other." (interview in GQ 2018)

#hmmmm #my heart 💔 #Im totally normal about this #I know none of this is new to us but still #I wonder how Nancy feels about their house being full of John-related stuff

[lenetaylor]

Paul McCartney, CEO of London

Before he was the Prince of London™ in 1967, Paul McCartney did a photoshoot in March 1966 with French photographer Jean-Marie Périer. It was shot in and around Abbey Road Studios (but not during the Sgt. Pepper sessions, as is sometimes claimed). Paul wore a very well-tailored business suit and looks like a young, supremely confident CEO.

Most of these photos are available at Photo 12; I've tried to find non-watermarked versions.

#paul mccharmly #paul mccartney #jean-marie périer #ceo of london #1966

[flipflopflying]

The Beatles (1963, Help!, Shea Stadium, Sgt Pepper, Yellow Submarine, Abbey Road, John and Yoko, rooftop concert, the last photo session)

#pixel art #pixelart #pixels #pixelly #pixel #minipops #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #yoko ono

[harrisonstories]

So here's something interesting...

The Beatles Derek Taylor Never-Before-Heard Collection of Lost Beatles Recordings: Including the 1967 Kenwood Sessions and John Lennon Private Recordings

This is the track listing from the description:

Tape 1: Unheard Beatles Sgt Pepper Rehearsals from Kenwood late 66 early 67

Run time is 56 minutes, songs include:

Revolution #9, mainly John in many accents, George can be heard, Paul too, Ringo one time, Terry Doran is also heard being interviewed by John, Terry Doran was ‘The Man From The Motor Trade’ on Sgt Pepper, every identical animal sound effect from Good Morning Good Morning is featured throughout, probably pre-dates Pepper and John has the sound effects saved, cockerel, hens, sheep, horse, pigs, cat, dogs etc, the very ones used on Pepper. Sitar drones almost all the way through by George, Piano backdrop also

Track Listing:

That much Control

Monte Carlo rally sound effects Terry Doran is Jack Brabham Formula 1 racer

Cat Feeding Services (Monty Python esque sketch)

A million miles away, John Indian accent Beatles far east tours in 66

Crazy banjo song, JL bellows

I’m aware of the situation monologue

Swing your partners

Lennon.McCartney complaining about the heat

John and George shouting over a very loud backing track

John/Paul counting in 123 testing, JL turns it into a poem.

Dear Prudence very early demo John wrote it way before 1968

British Police are pigs, in an Indian accent

Tape 2: George Harrison With the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band and Jimmy Page.

15 tracks, 59 minutes George with his Thames Valley muso friends, Jimmy Page, Jon Lord, Joe Brown, Sam Brown, Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah band (Neil Innes, Legs Larry Smith, Vivian Stanshall) Alvin Lee, all songs written by the Bonzos and George, all recorded at FP.

Track Listing:

George into talk while playing guitar, introducing a new song

Brazil take 1 written for the Handmade films project Brazil (never went to production)

Brazil take 2

Brazil Take 3

Sooty Goes to Hawaii

Mandalay monologue for handmade films production of the same name

Sooty Goes to Hawaii #2

Sooty Goes to Hawaii #3

Operatic Aria sung by Georges father-in-law and Olivia Harrisons dad Zeke Harrison, I doubt that Olivia has heard this

Bullshot theme song for Handmade films completed production.

Hare Krishna chant by everyone

Chant 2

While my Guitar Gently weeps with Jimmy Page on guitar

Same with Alvin Lee on guitar

if I Needed Someone

Tape 3: George with Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band band, all co-written 25.30 mins, 16 tracks

Track Listing:

Intro Legs Larry Smith

Do You Remember

Nothing Ever Changes

Urban Spaceman

Isle of Money (I Love Money)

Can you Groove (George)

There’s a Bright Golden Boil on my Penis

I Like Cesar

Misery Farm

Julie

Danda

When You Gotta Poop

Now You’re Asleep

Telling me The End

Viv Has Gone to Heaven

Mandalay Monologue #2

Tape 4: John Interviews Yoko 1969

Recorded by John in 1969, 45 minutes, John questions Yoko’s motives for being with him, discusses very personal matters, very revealing.

Tape 5: Yoko with Dr. Artur Janov

Yoko’s Primal Scream therapy 1 hr 40 mins, of very personal therapy, Yoko discusses John, music and very personal issues including John’s friendship with George.

Tape 6: “One From The Nursery” Unreleased John Ono Lennon Album

John and Kyoko Cox Tittenhurst Park

Run time is 47 minutes

4 tracks

Lots of John talking and playing acoustic guitar (sounds like his J60E) recorded at Christmas time, Various songs stand out, all written by John & Kyoko

John, I Love You

I Wish You Were my Father.

#john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #the beatles #derek taylor #yoko ono #a lot to unpack here

[muzaktomyears]

They had shared the skyrocket trip to fame together, and had become, as a consequence, an impregnable quartet. No one else had gone through what they had, no one else understood. They seemed to find a tremendous inspiration from each other's presence. There was a kind of love between the four of them, some feeling that gave them strength. It was a case of the whole being stronger than the sum of its parts. Although the world had accepted them with open arms, it could also, in many ways, be their enemy. They were a bit like the four corners of a Guards Regiment 'square' on the battlefield at Waterloo - steadfast together against the media shot and shell. (...) In the studio I was very much part of them; every voice was heard equally. But once they left the studio, out into the night, they closed themselves off again, reverting to their hermetically sealed unit. Even Brian Epstein didn't get inside that shell. As for the way they viewed me, I was 'very twelve-inch', in Ringo's memorable phrase. (Back in the fifties we used to issue ten-inch and twelve-inch vinyl records. The ten-inch records were the 'rhythm-style series', what we now call pop, and the twelve-inch were the cantatas and symphonies: the classical. Ten-inch was common; but twelve-inch - that was a cut above!) (...) Tony King, who worked for us and was a good friend of John, remembers that our sessions were like 'all the fun of the fair. Everybody would have these funny sort of sixties smilies on their faces; and among all this madness was the Duke of Edinburgh, as we used to call George Martin.'

Summer of Love: The Making of Sgt. Pepper, George Martin with William Pearson (1994)

#george martin #the duke of edinburgh! #the beatles #four headed monster

[pinkfloydhq]

📸 Syd Barrett and Rick Wright at Abbey Road Studios, then simply called EMI Studios, during the recording of The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, Pink Floyd debut album, in 1967.

The Beatles were recording Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart Club Band (1967) album in one of the rooms next door and the two bands met during the sessions. ✨🎧

#syd barrett #rick wright #r.i.p. #gone too soon #pinkfloyd #retro #singer #lyrics #emi studios #abbey road studios #the beatles #sgt peppers lonely hearts club band #recording #year: 1967 #shine on you crazy diamond #piper at the gates of dawn

[ceofjohnlennon]

"Photo session at Abbey Road, January, 1967". ㅡ From the book "Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band: Super Deluxe".

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #60s #1967 #sgt pepper's super deluxe

[sounwise]

Once, when I was feeling a bit down, John popped something into my hand. ‘Here you are, George,’ he said. ‘This’ll do you wonders.’ I looked down, and there was a little capsule in my hand, of the kind you might take for a cold or the flu. I kept it, and showed it to Norman Cowan, my doctor. ‘What is this, Norman?’ I asked. He stared down at it, aghast. ‘My God,’ he said in a panicky sort of way, ‘where did you get that? Don’t you dare take it. In fact, give it to me, now . . . !’ To this day I don’t know what it was. Maybe I missed something.

[—from With a Little Help from My Friends: The Making of Sgt. Pepper, George Martin]

#dfghk #john lennon #george martin #with a little help from my friends: the making of sgt. pepper #sgt. pepper sessions #1967 #the beatles

[rolloroberson]

John Lennon and Paul McCartney collaborated on “Good Morning, Good Morning”, “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite”, and began the working process for “Bad Finger Boogie” (aka “With a Little Help from My Friends”) during the Sgt. Pepper sessions on March 29, 1967. Photo by Leslie Bryce © Beatles Book Photo Library.

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #sgt peppers lonely hearts club band #abbey road studio 2 #with a little help from my friends #bad finger boogie #being for the benefit of mr kite #good morning good morning #leslie bryce

[laurolive]

Paul and Linda Photo Poll

My blog doesn’t get that big of an audience (so far), 😢 but I REALLY wanted to try a poll; so here goes. Representative photos are below.

May 19, 1967: Sgt. Pepper press launch at Brian Epstein’s house

__________________________________________

Jan. 1969: Get Back sessions

__________________________________________

Mar. 12, 1969: Wedding day

__________________________________________

London 1970: Embraces at home

#paul mccartney #linda mccartney #paul and linda mccartney #paul and linda #linda and paul #paul and linda romantic #paul and linda forever #lovely linda #linda eastman mccartney #linda louise mccartney #beatles #the beatles #get back #beatles wives #the beatles wives #beatles girls #mccartney #beatles poll #polls

[harrisonarchive]

David Crosby visiting The Beatles in the studio during Sgt. Pepper sessions, 1967; photos by Leslie Bryce.

In memoriam: David Crosby. Condolences to his loved ones.

“George would invite me over for dinner. Actually, George was the one I connected with the most. He was my best friend in that band, although I'm still really good friends with Ringo.” - David Crosby, Music Radar, February 8, 2014

“[George] was my favorite Beatle" - David Crosby, Twitter, February 20, 2015

Q: “memory of George Harrison?” “Wonderful man” - David Crosby, Twitter, March 22, 2015

“Towards the end of that year [1965] I’d kept hearing the name of Ravi Shankar. I heard it several times, and about the third time it was a friend of mine who said, ‘Have you heard this person Ravi Shankar? You may like the music.’ So I went and bought a record and that was it: I thought it was incredible.” - George Harrison, The Beatles Anthology (2000)

David Crosby: “They were much more real than we thought, and they were much nicer to us. And particularly George, who’s like, was just the nicest guy you could ask for. He was tough and he was smart and he didn’t kiss your butt, but he was — he was a kind human being, right? I became friends with George to the point where he started talking to me about stuff that mattered. I had just been turned on to Ravi Shankar. Somebody gave me his record, and I had it in my suitcase. And I gave it to George. And that had repercussions. He goes to India because he loves Indian music, and he meets this teacher, right? The Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. […] I don’t really buy religion at all, it just never rang true to me.[…] And I wanted to tell him, ‘Take it with a grain of salt.’ Hell, I wanted to tell him, ‘Take it with a whole shaker full of salt,’ I wanted to say that to George, I wanted to say, ‘Be skeptical,’ right, and I couldn’t because it was George.” Q: “What did you think would happen, he would just be like, 'F*** you, how dare you tell me something like that?'” DC: “Yeah, yeah, I was afraid I’d blow the friendship, absolutely. Because he was so valuable to me, and the guy was — he knew everything that I needed to know, he was doing what I wanted to do, he was nice about it, he was, like, my hero. So I couldn’t tell him the truth. Well, so I wrote him a song, I wrote him a song called ‘Laughing.’ And basically what it says is, I thought that I met somebody who told me that they knew what was going on, you know, and were telling me that story. And, and I listened, but I don’t really think that’s the way it is. I think the wisest person I ever saw was probably a child, laughing, playing in the sun. And I don’t even know if George heard it, let along was moved by it. But it generated one of my best songs, I don’t think there’s any question it’s one of the best things I wrote.” Q: “Why do you consider it one of the best songs you’ve ever written?” DC: “Because it makes me cry. (laughs)” Q: “Did George ever talk to you about the song at all? Even just to say he liked it? Or in general?” DC: “I heard that he did. I don’t know that for sure. But I, I heard that he did. And I hope he did.” - Storytime with Seth Rogen, Singalong (episode no. 2), October 12, 2021

Aside from hanging out at George’s house, they also spent time hanging out and jamming together in Los Angeles (more on that later this year). (x)

#David Crosby #George Harrison #quote #quotes about George #quotes by George #harrisonarchive in memoriam #in memoriam #The Beatles #The Byrds #Crosby Stills Nash and Young #et al #John Lennon #Paul McCartney #Ringo Starr #Ravi Shankar #fits queue like a glove

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

November 21st, 1975 - Queen Story!

'A Night At The Opera' released in the UK

🔸“Bohemian Rhapsody was totally insane, we never stopped laughing. It was basically a joke, but a successful joke.”

- Roy Thomas Baker, Producer

Queen's fourth and probably best known album, was recorded in England between August and November 1975. Such was the complexity of the compositions that no less than six different studios were employed, with the band members often recording various parts simultaneously in order to work most efficiently and get through it all. The sessions were long and gruelling and spanned four long months. Once again the band produced the album with trusted collaborators, Roy Thomas Baker and Mike Stone, and what emerged was a genuine triumph on all levels, meticulously pieced together to make the best possible album. A Night At The Opera would propel Queen on to the world stage on a mammoth scale and establish them as a major international force. Though it was never in any doubt within the band, it proved that Seven Seas Of Rhye and Killer Queen were not fleeting hits from another glam-type British wannabe band; Queen were here to stay and Bohemian Rhapsody and A Night At The Opera would confirm it for those in any doubt.

It is a matter of public record that a very great deal hinged upon the success or failure of this album. Had it failed, it is entirely feasible the band would not have survived and Queen may well have ended there and then. Despite having two top ten albums under their belt, and significant international hits with Seven Seas and Killer Queen, and sell-out shows all around Britain, the band was in serious financial difficulty by the start of 1975. Recording and relentless touring for three solid years had still not yielded anything like what the band were due, and, to add insult to injury, Roger, John, Brian and Freddie were still struggling to get by on the minimal wage from Trident, to whom they were signed. Enter the story at this point, Jim Beach, the lawyer who would eventually negotiate Queen's release from Trident's grasp and from the deal that had so far afforded such little reward for the band. It would be some years before the band formerly parted company with Trident. Eventually Queen were extricated from their deal and left to make A Night At The Opera without distraction or financial pressure. So, with a clean slate and blank canvas on which to create, the much relieved Queen, along with stalwarts Roy Thomas Baker and Mike Stone, committed the next quarter of a year to the meticulous and all-consuming craft of honing the album that Brian would later refer to as ‘Queen's Sgt Peppers’.

The album cover was given a simple but lavish treatment, with Freddie's original crest design updated and coloured and placed centre of the album cover. The LP gatefold complimented the style, with the lyrics printed over two sides of the inside cover, and for the first time the inner sleeve was in colour and featured live photos from Queen’s most recent tour.

A Night At The Opera is a wonderfully rich and diverse gathering of carefully constructed and, some might say, unlikely compositions from all four band members. Every track is strong and every moment from beginning to end is beautifully recorded. The late lamented Mike Stone (engineer), who sadly passed away in 2002, once again played an integral part in achieving the sound of this album. Opera spans all kinds of musical styles and genres and veers off at tangents as unlikely the album title itself.

Aside from the well known material, also on this album is to be found Freddie's exquisite Love Of My Life, rumoured to have been inspired by his long time girlfriend of the time Mary Austin.

A Night At The Opera was finally finished in early November of 1975 and released to worldwide critical acclaim later that month on the 21st. It very quickly became Queen's first No 1 album, and also their first to achieve Platinum sales status. It went top 5 in the USA and achieved Gold status there, helped in no small part by extensive tours of North America and Canada earlier in the year.

Singles from this album: Bohemian Rhapsody / You’re My Best Friend / Death On Two Legs (on Queen’s First EP)

(source: queenonline.com)

Pic: 'A Night At The Opera' – EMI - HOLLAND (2005) ~ 30th Anniversary Edition

#freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #1975 #a night at tbe opera album #a night at the opera tour #queen invite you to a night at the opera #thomas baker

[caralara]

Ok so let me just put my unhinged triple layer reach out there just to get it out of my brain it’s been in there swimming in the background all day

So

The last time Louis tweeted and deleted immediately after was this tweet

which was so out of (current) Twitter character for him

And first we thought it was because of masses of fans being loud in front of his hotel in Lima, it was all over Twitter, fans being upset about Latam fans being „disrespectful“ and „stalking“ him at the hotel AND being „extremely noisy“ to the point Louis was unable to sleep (presumably)

but soon after it turned out there weren’t many fans out there so it was not actually what Louis’ “melodramatic” outburst on Twitter was about

THEN we got rumours of Harry being spotted at that hotel (truckload of salt pls) but ALSO bbg receipt

so we were wondering when the last time was that he spoke about being tired / not being able to sleep and voila it was the night “Freddie was born”

and yeah, you’d think that’s a reach, but the week before he signalled a lot about babygate

wearing a XY Project jacket that - get this - if you pull back the flaps it reveals patterns underneath (that’s the actual description lol)

He’d also just done a pap session at the helicopter pad in Rio de Janeiro sporting the Beatles’ Sgt. Peppers shirt and his yellow (gold) babygate sun glasses (both from his babygate closet)

after this he turned up the heat on babygate clothes signalling, wearing lots of chequers and Lacoste and yellow/black buzzing colours

so now… I can’t help but connect this new tweet&delete action with the last one that started off a whole new level of bbg signalling/pushing. so maybe he really IS absolutely gutted about… the dna results.

it’s just too perfect. the on the dot scheduled tweet. the direct delete. the fandom being in heated discussions on Twitter over whether something is disrespectful to Louis or not (hotel waiting / album sharing). the reference to bbg - being also cushioned in bbg push/signals (Daisy and Phoebe’s first post about their nephew including Freddie).

But yeah… maybe it really isn’t anything tho

#babygate #bbg #bg #lt2 #lt2 promo #faith in the future #trying to sleep #absolutely gutted #unhinged reaches #thank you for coming to my ted talk

[wallisninety-six]

Why 'Smile' is The Beach Boys'- and Brian Wilson's magnum opus

The Beach Boys, for many decades have had something of an identity crisis- the band mainly seen in mainstream as the fun & sun loving surfer band, soon gained newfound acclaim for the landmark production of Pet Sounds and saw growing interest in the band's (and Brian Wilson's) extremely tumultuous and even tragic history simultaneously. Smile manages to touch upon all of this at once, as we see the stunning transformation from the small teenage-led garage band in Hawthorne becoming musical and cultural icons.

What was planned to be a album meant to top Pet Sounds & The Beatles' soon-to-be album Sgt. Pepper- Smile has seen one of the most consequential episodes in all of rock history, But beside the legends & the endless debates surrounding it...what about the album itself? (For numerous reasons I talk about here, the 19-track, three-movement version on The Smile Sessions is the version (I believe) people should go to to experience their first listen with if you want the Beach Boys version of it- and is what this review is based on).

Truth be told, I do think Smile actually ties Pet Sounds for their best work, because its existence makes it so hard for me to choose *just* one album considered to be their best. And even if you never knew the album's history, the original songs easily represent the absolute culmination of Brian Wilson's then-only 5-year long career as a songwriter, composer, producer, and innovator in the industry- and he was only 23 when he started Smile.

For all the growing concerns that the Boys weren't cool or heavy enough during the 60s, and even though the album leans more on the experimental- Smile is still unapologetically Beach Boys in its sound, staying on-brand and allowing us a comfortable way to listen to newer, even challenging musical ideas. Brian's radically experimental composition chops are shown in full, dizzying force- with Smile, Brian was creating editing and production techniques that were so new and novel at the time, it would rarely be attempted again until digital music editing was more common decades later. The music world was his playground, and he was ready to try anything.

Some people may lament certain tracks (like "Holidays") are majority instrumental (due to the album being unfinished)- especially in comparison to Brian's solo version, but this is nothing new: Most Beach Boys albums up to this point had instrumental tracks where Brian tried new compositions, and Pet Sounds & Smile was no exception. But where Pet Sounds evolved instrumentals into *compositions* to fit the album's flow- Smile takes it several steps further. It (unintentionally) sets a positive example that not every song in an album- nor the album itself, needs to be conventional in any way. It was a bold new world and experiment for rock music- why be dogmatic with established rules?

If "Good Vibrations" was a 'Pocket Symphony', then Smile is the symphony itself and these songs are Brian's compositions, and like with editing, tried everything and used various levels of instruments and non-instruments to create a raw, bold new sound- and with the other Beach Boys, Van Dyke Parks and The Wrecking Crew musicians, it would slowly (and painfully) be realized.

The array and variety of sounds and moods in Smile's very compositions are stunning- it's seen in the dizzying Americana and Western sound of "Heroes & Villains", the gorgeous baroque tones of "Wonderful", the monstrous and hypnotic industrial noise of "Cabinessence", and the freakishly apocalyptic orchestral breakdown of "Mrs. O'Leary's Cow"- easily the most unnerving, intense, and horrifying song in all of Beach Boys canon. And like any good Beach Boys album- the more you listen, the more things that were hidden show themselves to you in Smile.

But that didn't mean that the vocals were neglected- far from it, and some of the best vocal and harmony work ever from The Beach Boys exist in Smile- and the opening hymn "Our Prayer" starts the album out reminding us this. And they're all utilized to terrific extent, especially with the songs mentioned above- the whole album wouldn't be the same with it all *completely* gone.

That leads into why the album- even though it's unfinished, sounds so weirdly whole and complete, and that was the incredible musical ingenuity of Brian Wilson as a songwriter & producer and his creative ways of breaking through the future of music with passionate and stylish brute force, while tastefully and lovingly honoring the old that inspired his musical world- going over countless genres & emotions in the process... and having it all still sound like it fits together.

Smile represents the most delicate balance of extreme contrasts, but this balance is miraculously pulled off for each one- quiet and loud moments, humorous & emotional, conventional songs versus songs with no rules, new instrumentals & old classical ones, and a dying old world versus the birth of something new led by impassioned youth...sometimes all in the same song.

The youth and vulnerability of Brian, however, was also unintentionally the project's downfall- He had too many ideas, so many aspirations and grandiose statements to make- but also had too much mental trauma and issues, and like many of his contemporaries, he flew too close to the sun and burned up his talents and energy in the process with a fiery glow.

Smile's purpose as a spiritual statement of youth surrounds all of the album- but even back then, Brian knew it could never last, he was slowly getting older, and reality- like it does with most people, birthed a brutal wake up call to his ambitions & outlook for the world- that more just future where the young could transform society & the world for better never came, and Smile's collapse would be an eerie warning to what the world would look like. After that- politics of love would turn into politics of conflict, as racial hatred and war loomed over America, and the Summer of Love would be violently torn apart by reality.

But while Brian eventually took a serious mental blow and had to scrap the project- he went down fighting tooth and nail, still believing that the band, and rock music itself can ascend to something more- the song "Surf's Up" encapsulates this entirely, declaring an end to the band's surfer image, and embracing a new and freer musical world. And while it's filled with dazzling (and even confusing) wordplay, the most simple, and easily understood part came at the end of it- the clearest message from the album and Brian himself, and tellingly- added years after the project's collapse:

A children's song, Have you listened as they played?, Their song is love, And the children know the way...

The fact that Brian would be able to actually live to see his vision fulfilled and completed on is own terms despite so much extreme trauma he went through- and see newfound love for Smile by younger folks listening to it for the first time 40 years later *and* make their own versions out of musical passion, shows that with time, these dreams can become reality- and planting those seeds for that world you believe in for the next generation to be inspired by... is always worthwhile.

#long post #the beach boys #brian wilson #van dyke parks #smile #SMiLE #the smile sessions #surf's up #60s music #pet sounds #1966 #1967 #summer of love #music history #music production #the wrecking crew #1960s #art #california #cabinessence #heroes and villains #good vibrations

[middleearthpixie]

I’m going to set a prompt for you. “Fireworks” for any of your works. Whichever you’re happiest to use.

It took me a while, but here it is... 💜

Fireworks

Summary:Your brother’s annual Fourth of July picnic brings with it a surprise you never saw coming - and brings John Porter unexpected back into your life.

Prompt: Fireworks

Characters: John Porter x Fem!Reader  

Warnings: unprotected sex 

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,281

***

You stood in the doorway of your walk-in closet and frowned. Why was it when you actually had someplace to go, you never seemed to have anything to wear? The Murphy’s law of both fashion and being single, no doubt. 

 Although, why you really cared was a bit of a mystery. It was just your brother’s annual Fourth of July cookout and you already knew everyone on the guest list. But for some reason, you just wanted to look… good. 

Still, you didn't have all day to decide. The cookout started at two and you’d had to work, so it was already nearly seven now and if you waited any longer, there’d be no point in going at all.

That in mind, you finally settled on your old standby—jean shorts and a dark green tank top. Your hair almost behaved. Almost. So, up into a ponytail it went and not ten minutes later, you were easing your car to a stop behind your brother’s Ram 1500 pickup. There were a few cars parked in front of his house at the end of Maple Street, where the tall, leafy trees that gave the street its name showed the age of the neighborhood itself. During the day, shade splashed on both sides of the street and most of the cars parked along it took advantage of that shade. 

Music pumped from the backyard. Gabe was a big Beatles fan, and you recognized Sgt. Pepper and fought off a wince. As kids, he had this CD on loop and every morning, you woke up to the same refrain, you’d asked him to please, please, please play anything else and when he refused, you snuck into his room and stole the CD to bury in the backyard. 

But now, you didn't mind Sgt. Pepper so much as you lifted the latch to the gate and came around the corner, smiling and greeting the people you knew, the ones she saw at every one of Gabe’s gatherings.

“Hey, you made it!” 

Gabe was younger than you by almost four years and when you were kids, you couldn’t be in the same room for more than five minutes without trying to kill each other. But, you weren’t kids any more and you didn't mind him so much since he’d finally grown up. He pressed a Sam Adams Porch Rocker into your hand and said, “I’ll throw a burger on for you if you want.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate it. No cheese, though.”

“No problem. Go and be friendly. It’ll be up win a few minutes.”

You looked around as he went back into the kitchen to get the burgers. Tiki torches flickered all around the yard’s perimeter and  Chairs were set up beneath towering maples and oaks and most of them were already occupied. Kids splashed in the in-ground pool, and you tried not to notice the bikinis around said pool. But, of course you did notice them and as you did, you vowed to work harder on your abs next gym session. A lie, of course. you hated doing abs, but as long as you made the promise, you felt better about the same. 

Before you could even make the attempt to go and be friendly, your sister-in-law Deena came up and wrapped you in a hug like she hadn’t seen you in years. “I’m glad you finally got here,” she said, her voice low, “now, don’t be mad at me, but…”

“But what?” You narrowed your eyes at her. “Deena, what’s going on?”

“John’s here.”

“What?”

“I know, I know…Believe me, he heard about it, but” Deena held up both hands, palms out, “Gabe bumped into him and they got to talking and the next thing I know, he tells me he invited him.”

“Deena, are you kidding me?” You craned your neck to scan the huge backyard and it took you all of five seconds to find him, over near the clump of swamp maples to the left of the pool. There he was. 

John Porter.

Fuck.

It had been months since you’d last seen him, but as soon as your eyes alit on him, your entire body went hot. No one would ever blame me for that. After all, the man was hot. Tall, dark, handsome, with piercing blue eyes and a smile that promised all of the sinful delights the world had to offer and delivered so much more. He wasn't in your apartment more than ten minutes, there to pick you up for our first date, before you were naked on the sofa with him. You never even made it to the movie you’d planned to go see, which had been fine. He knew what he was doing and you’d take an orgasm over a stupid action movie any day of the week. And while you’d thought you’d never seen him again after that, you were wrong. In fact, you thought you were on the verge of something special, something that would last. 

You were falling in love.

You thought he was, as well. 

He worked for the British government and was only in the States temporarily. He’d gotten a call about a mission, couldn’t tell you what it was or where it would take him, only that he was leaving and he’d call you when he got back to the States.

That was last December. You were still waiting for that call.

Fucker.

“Oh, no,” Deena muttered. “Here he comes.”

“Wonderful.” You lifted the bottle to swallow half of it. A mistake, actually, as you hadn’t eaten and the beer went right to your head. 

“Hi there,” John said, his voice all casual, like you were work buddies or nothing more than casual acquaintances. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. And you?” You managed to sound at least a little friendly. Or so you hoped. But the truth was, the butterflies were going wild in your stomach and the Porch Rocker had your head spinning more than a little and truth be told, just looking at him, all you could think about was tackling him somewhere. You hadn’t realized just how much you’d missed him until then.

And really, what you should’ve been thinking was junk punching him. He’d deserve it. 

“I’m good. I—uh—I retired at the end of May.”

“Retired? Really?”

He nodded, lifting his own bottle of Shock Top to his lips for a pull. He took two swallows then lowered it. “Yeah, I’m here now, doing some work for your government now instead.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough that I bought a house.”

That was something you hadn’t expected him to say. “You-you bought a house. That’s nice.”

“Yeah, I did. It’s not huge and there’s more grass than I real care to mow, but I’m adjusting. The worst part is you all drive on the wrong side of the road.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that would be you.” 

He smiled, then glanced at Deena before looking back at you. “Look, can we talk?”

“Talk? What about?” You took another sip of your beer like you had no idea what he might want to talk to me about. Playing it cool. 

“I’m going to go see if Gabe needs any help.” Deena gestured toward the Coleman coolers up against the back of the house. “Beer’s in the red cooler, sodas and water are in the blue cooler.” 

Deena darted off, leaving you up on the deck with John, trying to remember why it was you didn't want to go off alone with him anywhere. Nothing good could come of it. It just couldn’t. 

He waited until Deena went back inside. “I owe you an apology.”

“An apology?”

A knowing look came to his face, accompanied by a slightly crooked grin that made your insides twist immediately. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, right. You were going to call me, weren’t you, when you were stateside again?”

“Yeah, I was, but I ended up in the Middle East for months and couldn’t call from there because I couldn't give my location away. When I finally got back to London, I decided I’d had enough. I’d worked with a few Americans over there and was offered a job that paid better, had less travel, so I put in for my retirement and when I came back to the States, I figured too much time had passed and you were probably fairly angry with me, and rightfully so and I know that’s lame, but it’s the truth.”

You really didn't want to believe him, but he sounded sincere enough. And maybe you were being a fool, but you still cared about him, still missed him, and—if you were completely honest with yourself—you will loved him. Not a day went by when you didn't think about him, or didn’t worry about him, even if you would have cheerfully strangled him yourself.

And now, you had the opportunity at a second chance with him. Maybe you were being a fool, but… how often did one get a second chance?

With that, you sighed. “Fair enough. Yes, we can talk.”

“Good.” He nodded toward the side of Gabe’s pale yellow ranch house. “Let’s take a walk. I don’t know anyone here anyway.”

“You know Gabe.”

“Yeah, and that’s it. And his wife keeps giving me the stink-eye.”

You smiled. “She’s one of my best friends, so you’re lucky the stink-eye is all she’s giving you.”

“Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

You knew better, but you let him lead you around to the front of the house. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Busy,” he said. “I’m still living out of boxes, more or less. Not much in the way of spare time since I got here.”

“But you had time for a cookout.”

“Who turns down free food?” He looked over at you and grinned.

That grin made your insides do a slow melt. Did he have any idea what he promised with only a smile? You remembered all too well what that smile did to you the first time. He’d leaned in and kissed you and that was it. The next thing you knew, you were tugging his cream-colored sweater over his head ad then wrestling with his belt while he had you naked in record time. And that was only the beginning. It only got better from there. 

Your nipples contracted on cue. Heat swept through you now and it had nothing to do with it being the middle of the summer. John Porter just oozed sex. Oozed sex, reeked of danger, and had a face that would make an angle commit any sin he asked. 

And sinning with him seemed mighty good right about now.

Wait? What?

No, you weren’t going there again. You knew you should go back to the house, and drown your sorrows in Porch Rockers, cheeseburgers, and chips, because standing there, with him, at the foot of Gabe’s driveway, was already wreaking havoc on your nerves. Your body remembered all too well what the man standing before could do, what he did do, and it was enough to make you already feel more than a little dampness between your legs. 

No man had ever had that power over you. But John did. And you had the feeling he knew it. Especially when you looked up and found him just watching you, his blue eyes glinting with something akin to promise.

He knew.

“What?” 

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just glad I decided to come.”

As he spoke, he stepped up closer to you. You instinctively stepped back, smack up against the side of your car. “John… don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He took another step toward you. “We were good together. We should give it another shot.”

“No,” you shook your head, “we definitely should not give it another shot. I learned the hard way about that.”

“I was a shit and I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

“John.”

“What?”

“You’re nuts if you think I’m falling for this again.”

“I live right there,” he gestured with one hand over his right shoulder, “so why don’t we forget this cookout and make a few fireworks of our own and see if I can’t convince you how good we are together?”

“I don’t even like you.”

“That’s okay,” his grin widened, “you don’t have to like me. I like you enough for the both of us.”

“Oh, well, in that case.”

“Come on, admit it. You like me.”

“No. I really don’t.”

“Sure you do.” He stepped closer and you tried to ignore the way your heartbeat sped up. He towered over you, all broad shoulders and wide chest. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

You relented then and sighed. “Okay, so you’re not the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“I knew it.” He bent to you and your heart quickened as his lips just barely brushed yours and he whispered, “I am sorry I didn't call you when I got back,” just before he claimed your lips in a soft kiss.

You sank back against your car as his mouth moved against yours, as his arm slid easily about your waist, as his body pressed up against you. His lips were warm and dry and soft, his tongue hot and silken as it eased between your lips to trace along yours. 

He came flush against you. You’d forgotten how solid he was, how muscled. He might not be in the military any longer, but he certainly didn't get lazy as a result. You melted against him, winding your arms about his neck. Your fingers crept up into his hair. It was short and bristly along his nape, but as they stretched higher, it grew softer. 

John shifted slightly, easing a thigh between yours and you couldn’t help but sigh into his mouth at the sensual friction it created. He pressed up into the apex of your thighs, sliding it along you as he did. Heat pooled where he met you, the cotton lining of your thong already damp. Damn it, he was one of those men who just knew how to touch you to get your motor humming, how to warm you up and make you almost drip with desire. Your core did a slow, teasing melt, the ache sweet and aggravating at the same time. 

But, you weren’t the only one whose body betrayed them. As he came completely flush against you, his cock pressed firmly against you, a rather large ridge in his jeans now and without thinking, you slid a hand down from his neck, shifted enough to sweep down along his chest, over his stomach, to that ridge, which you curved your hand about and gently squeezed.

He exhaled hard into your mouth and arched into your touch at the same time. The pressure against your hand was slow and steady, and you just wanted to unbuckle his belt, tug open the fly, and let your fingers roam over what you knew was thick, solid, utterly beautiful male flesh. 

You smiled as he shivered against you, as he thrust firmly against you and whispered, “We should go back to my place. It’s right across the street.”

“Since when?”

“Since I moved here. I just told you I bought a house.” He drew back, his blue eyes almost sapphire, heavy-lidded, and promising you it would be absolutely worth falling into bed with him again. “So?”

You smiled. “Do I look dumb enough to do that again?”

He leaned in, sweeping his lips up along the side of your neck, to your ear, where he caught the lobe in gentle teeth and whispered, “I promise you, I’m not disappearing any time soon.”

“Liar.”

“No, I promise you,” he drew back and smiled, “I will. I’ll even call you first thing tomorrow. I mean, unless you’re still here tomorrow.”

Your stomach did a mighty flip at that. “Are you asking me to spend the night with you? We haven’t even left my brother’s yard yet.”

“I am and the key word is yet. I owe you.” He slid an arm about your waist to pull you up and away from the car. “We’ll get some takeaway and see what happens.”

“John, I’m not sleeping with you again.”

“Sure you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

 “John.”

He bent to kiss you and as he did, your resolve melted. Maybe you were an idiot for doing this, but you didn't care. So, you let him catch you by the hand and you followed him across the street to the sage green ranch across the street. 

Once you were inside, John pulled you into his arms and his mouth crashed into yours. And in that moment, you were a goner. You melted into him, tugging his damp tee shirt up to slip your hands beneath it. His back was damp as well. It was hot as anything outside and you were both on the sweaty side. The AC hummed softly in the background, but the afternoon sun had poured in through the front bow window and the room was hot despite that AC.

His tongue thrust between your lips, teasing as it glided along yours. He curved his rough palms against your cheeks, angling your head ever so slightly to the right to give him better access, to allow him to deepen his kiss. You savored every last second of that deep, soulful kiss as it fired your blood and warmed you from the inside out. You flattened your hands against his back, the muscle like slabs of stone beneath his hot, smooth skin. 

Your back arched of its own, your breasts pressing firmly into his chest, your nipples responding to the contact by tightening into achy little beads. His hands fell away from your face, to the hem of your tank and he broke the kiss as he whisked that tank top up, a soft laugh dusting your lips as you raised your arms so he could strip it free and let it fall to the floor behind you.

Little by little, you tugged at each other’s clothes until the piles at your feet grew higher. He caught you around the waist to lift you easily and as he did, you wrapped your legs about his hips, both sighing as one when your softness ground firmly against his hardness. 

He lifted you just enough to capture a beaded nipple between his lips, flaying it with the tip of his tongue as he flicked it over that achy nub. Your core began the slow melt that had you aching for him, the heat between your thighs enough to warm the room further. He turned to press you against the wall, your eyes closing as he continued his sensual assault on your nipple, swirling his tongue about it, pulling it deeper into his mouth, flicking it just enough to make you suck in a hard breath. 

Your body ached for him just as it always did, when all you could think about was moments like this, with him. His touch was the most powerful aphrodisiac you’d ever known and he had the gift of knowing just how to touch you, how to stroke and tease you, until you were slick and hot and desperate for him.

That hadn’t changed. Not one bit. He was still your weakness and probably always would be and all you wanted was to feel him inside you, to take him slow and deep until you both went mad with the need to come. 

He pulled away, his eyes smoked sapphires as they met yours. “I’ve missed you, love,” he growled, his voice low and husky.

“You knew where to find me,” you whispered back.

“I was a fucking coward.”

“Yeah, you were.”

He grinned. “But, you’re here now, so…”

With that, he reached between you and you felt him press up against you just hard enough to make tingles race through you.

“John!” His name burst from your lips as he then thrust and filled you with a long, silken stroke. You tightened about him instinctively, your fingernails biting into the back of his neck as he began thrusting. He moved with the slow assurance of a man who knew exactly how to make you melt, how to carefully bring you to that edge and hold you there, your body humming, your head spinning, your blood boiling as every fiber of your being tensed in anticipation of the fiery hot release of the perfect orgasm. 

This time was no different. Each thrust shoved you closer to that edge. You wrapped all around him, rocked your hips to meet those thrusts, a sense of triumph surging through you as he moaned low in the back of his throat and his eyes squeezed shut for a long moment.

“Oh…” Your name bubbled to his lips, almost strangled as he thrust faster now. Pleasure spiraled through you, gentle at first, but it quickly grew. Hot. Sweet. Your thighs gripped his sides as you slid along the wall, as he drove powerfully into you. Bright lights danced before your eyes. Your head spun wildly from the sensual bliss coursing through you. You tightened about him, your climax taking root deep in your core, tensing and twisting as it wound through you. 

“John… oh… please…” You couldn’t hold back your plaintive moan, the need to come almost choking you now. You squeezed him, ground against him, met each thrust as best you could and then—

He crushed you between his body and the wall and you surrendered, melting at the sweet fire of mutual climax that had you clinging to him, throbbing around him, whispering his name as you tightened your arms about his neck.

John staggered back, sinking into the armchair just inside the front door and as he did, he cradled you against him, trembling beneath you as he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much, you know. And I don’t want to miss you any more.”

You buried your face in his soft, dark hair, breathing in the clean eucalyptus scent of his shampoo, the soft scrape of his stubbled cheek against your all-too-sensitive skin. Your eyes closed, your heart slowed, your breath returned as you whispered, “What does that mean?”

“It means, I want another chance with you.” He drew back slightly, turning to meet your gaze. His eyes were heavy-lidded and seductive, soft and tender. “So, what do you say?”

“Why should I, John?”

“Because you miss me? Because you want to be with me? Because I make your eyes cross and will do it on a regular basis?”

“I wanted all of that once and you left. How do I know you won’t leave again?”

“Because I’m not stupid. I made a mistake when I left. The worst mistake I could’ve made. And I want to right that.”

You sat back carefully, mindful of the fact that your bodies were still joined, but wouldn’t be for much longer. And it would be messy, then. You carefully eased off him. “John, I—”

He pushed up from the chair, said, “Hold that thought,” and darted into the kitchen, coming back with a clean towel that he pressed into your hand. “Look, I know I fucked up. I won’t deny that. But, I’ve had a lot of time to think about us, love. And the more I thought, the more I realized what I want. And what I want is you.”

“For now.”

“Forever.” He came up to catch you by the wrist, pulling the towel from you. “I love you. And I have for a long time.”

You stared up at him, his features softened by the darkness creeping in as night fell. Soft pops sounded in the distance. Firecrackers, no doubt. It was, after all, the Fourth of July. 

“John—”

“You have every reason to tell me to go to hell,” he said, drawing you into his arms once more. “But, I will prove myself to you somehow. I promise you, I will.”

You knew you should just get dressed and go back across the street, but the truth was, you’d missed him just as much. And you really did want to believe him.

But, what if…?

“John, what if you change your mind again?”

“I won’t,” he whispered, locking his fingers at the small of your back to hold you away from him. His eyes were honest, a slightly crooked grin played at his lips. “I promise you, I won’t. You’ll see.”

You sighed as the sky behind him lit up in flashes of purple and white and gold. You knew what your answer would be and perhaps it made you a fool, but you smiled just the same.

“I love you,” he added, drawing you close once more. “And I will prove it to you.”

“You better.” You reached up to brush a lock of spiky dark hair away from his forehead. “Because I love you back and I swear I will kick your ass if you’re just playing me, Sergeant Porter.”

He offered up a grin that would melt even the coldest of hearts. “Not sergeant, love. Just Mister. I’m a civilian now, and I promise you, I am not playing you. You’ll see.”

He tugged you back to him and as your lips met, and your eyes started to slip shut, more bursts of color erupted against the night sky as you melted against him once more. And as he tugged down onto the cool maple floor, those weren’t the only fireworks going off around you. 

***

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