Having made an incalculable contribution not only to the development of popular music through the previous ten years but contemporary culture as a whole, by 1973 the life and career of John Lennon was in a state of flux.
Three years on, give or take, from the break-up of The Beatles, Lennon had a trio of solo albums behind him. While it would be fanciful to describe them as the good, the bad and and the ugly, with poetic license ‘Imagine‘ (1971) can easily be classed as a fine record, ‘Some Time in New York City‘ deemed a dislikeable, indulgent set, while ‘Plastic Ono Band‘ (1970) dwelt, in part, on the uglier aspects of fame and Beatlemania – John thus creating arguably the most intense and compelling album so far recorded in the rock medium.
Indeed, with the one-two combination of ‘Plastic Ono Band‘ and then ‘Imagine‘ – seen as an agreeable flip side to its far darker predecessor – Lennon was already ahead in the ex-Beatle critical acclaim stakes, a position most expected him to occupy when the group went their separate ways anyway.
Across the spectrum of these two commendable albums, each accomplished in different ways, he had written songs from a personal and political perspective. If the material on his first record was hard-hitting to the point of harrowing, then the second had a theme of hope for mankind, encapsulated in the message of its resonant title-track – although common to both are musings on love and companionship inspired by his second wife, Japanese conceptual artist Yoko Ono.
But then in 1972 Lennon took a sizeable misstep with the sprawling ‘Some Time in New York City‘ double LP set. Recorded in the city referenced in the title with a collection of musicians who for the purposes of the record were dubbed ‘Elephant’s Memory‘, the highly politicised tone of this collection may have been more palatable had the lyrics been less pedantic and the music more engaging.
Across four sides there was little to truly enthuse over, Lennon taking a pasting from the critics (the first by and large of his entire career), the record returning relatively poor sales figures to boot.
As the year drew to a close there was also diminishing comfort to be found in the life removed from that of John Lennon musician, songwriter, peace activist and campaigner. Due in part to candid views on civil rights and opposition to the Vietnam war, an application to U.S. Immigration for a green card in order to make formal Lennon’s residency in the United States had run into difficulties (through the period he was under close surveillance from the FBI) and to make matters worse, after three years of wedlock cracks had begun to appear in his marriage.
Against the backdrop of such turmoil (not least within his own four walls) and a career having taken a turn for the worst, Lennon, on also recovering from spell of writer’s block, began preparing the ground for a fourth solo album – the occasionally poignant, frequently perplexing ‘MIND GAMES‘ LP entering the public domain in October 1973.
Three months earlier John had entered the Record Plant studios in New York to begin cutting tracks, the twelve (among a reputed 20 to have been recorded) which comprised the finished album laid down during a three-week burst of activity. The momentum barely wavered even when days into the sessions John and Yoko separated, Lennon soon to begin a relationship with his personal assistant May Pang, which heralded a period he would later refer to as ‘the lost weekend.’
This episode brought relocation to Los Angeles and 18 months of living the Hollywood high life with the likes of Ringo, Keith Moon, Harry Nilsson and former Monkees drummer Micky Dolenz, he and Yoko finally reconciling during the early months of 1975.
By way of irony a number of ‘Mind Games‘ compositions reaffirm the love he feels for his now estranged wife, Yoko not the only significant presence absent from a Lennon recording project. After being at the controls for the albums John had so far made, Phil Spector found his services were no longer required, the artist opting to produce the record himself.
Much like the piece as an entity, particularly in regard to the standard of composition, the production is a hit and miss affair. Some good songs are undermined by a sterile ambience, Lennon for whatever reason choosing not to have his voice more prominent in the mix. It makes for a bland, flat sound, creating an impression of the writer having little confidence in his own material, John saying as much in an interview shortly before his death in 1980:
‘The ‘Mind Games’ single is fine, but there is no energy to sustain the album.’
Which is not quite the same as him (or your genial host here at SAMTIMONIOUS.com) saying the album is a dud. True, it does flounder in places, but there are moments when he genuinely comes across as engaged and inspired. Not enough for it to warrant masterpiece status, yet by the same token Lennon sounds actively intent on righting the wrongs of ‘Some Time in New York City‘ with an altogether more engaging record. Even when his focus turns to politics, the ruminations are delivered in much less heavy-handed manner.
For musical support he uses the same group of players who were recently found backing Yoko on tracks that would constitute her ‘Feel The Space‘ album (November 1973), this being a core unit of Jim Keltner (drums), Gordon Edwards (bass), Kenny Ascher (keyboards), David Spinozza (guitars). There are guest contributions from Michael Brecker (saxophone) and ‘Sneaky’ Pete Kleinow (pedal steel), Lennon adding guitar and piano to an ensemble labelled as ‘The Plastic U.F. Ono Band‘, while harmony vocals come from a four-strong female backing crew named ‘Something Different.’
Having originally written the melody with a set of lyrics titled ‘Make Love, Not War‘ in February 1970, he restructures the piece for the first up title track. In revisiting his earlier work, Lennon turns what was effectively a piano ballad into a lush slice of infectious, mid-tempo pop and while the hippie connotations of the working title are dropped, the sentiment is maintained with a plea for tolerance and understanding:
‘Love is the answer/And you know that for sure/Love is a flower/You gotta let it, you gotta let it grow.’
An eloquent, uplifting effort, Ascher excels on keyboards with Lennon doing a fine turn on slide guitar and in the producers chair. His time spent working with Spector is brought to bear in the expansive, layered sound that made for a well-crafted single, ‘Mind Games‘ (one of the last exceptional songs he would ever write), deserved to be a far bigger hit (US 18/UK 26) than it was.
In contrast ‘Tight A$‘ is a blustering rocker that bares more than a passing similarity to the 1954 Elvis Presley track ‘That’s All Right‘ and closer still to the version Rod Stewart cut for his 1971 ‘Every Picture Tells a Story‘ album.
After the preachy lyrical tone of his previous album, it is refreshing to hear John being so irreverent, if not especially subtle. The sexual innuendos (‘Well, tight as you can make it/Hard and slow ain’t hard enough/Just as tight as you can shake it‘), are initially amusing but then descend into virtually the same words being rearranged in saying little that is different, not that it prevents the supporting musicians turning in a spirited performance.
Similar can be said in regard to closing track ‘Meat City‘ where aggressive electric guitar work and accompanying backward tape effects are used to frame some pithy comments (‘Fingerlickin’ chickinpickin’ Meat City shook down U.S.A), on Stateside consumerism. In the later verses his observations turn to what, or more pertinently where, he views as a new frontier for rock music:
‘Well I’m going to China, to see for myself/Going to China, going to/Just got to give me some rock ‘n roll.’
While each of these upbeat numbers rely predominantly on exuberance to pass muster, Lennon and his supporting players coming over as a raucous bar band in the process, he draws on his own well of inspiration for ‘Aisumasen‘ (‘I’m Sorry’), which is in comparable vein to ‘Jealous Guy‘ as an apology and plea of forgiveness to Yoko.
While not quite at the standard of sublime, aforementioned effort that appeared on ‘Imagine‘ there is no doubting the sincerity of the words, ‘All that I know is just what you tell me/All that I know is just what you show me,’ or the conviction in his voice. Stirling keyboard work from Ascher and a sympathetic, closing out electric guitar solo by Spinozza serving to make it not only the longest track on the album, (‘Aisumasen‘ Japanese apparently for ‘sorry’), but also among the strongest.
Yoko is also the focus of three other songs, John never less than affectionate or complimentary through ‘One Day‘ (At a Time), ‘Out the Blue and ‘You Are Here.’
The latter uses the lilting pedal steel guitar of Kleinlow to conjure a mood imported from a South Sea island, Lennon musing in wistful fashion on how he and Yoko came together despite a vast geographical, not to say cultural divide, ‘From Liverpool to Tokyo/It’s a way to go/From distant lands one woman, one man/Let the four winds blow.’ The inference is if he and she can do it, so can nations (‘Well now east is east and west is west/The twain shall meet’) and while no doubt heartfelt expressionism, it borders on the sentimentality a certain Paul McCartney would have been lambasted for.
‘One Day‘ (At a Time), which Lennon sings in a near falsetto voice says not a great deal different to ‘Oh Yoko‘ from ‘Imagine‘ and while taken at a more sedate pace, the same assertions come forth. John sees their love as matching elements, he the fish, she the sea, continuing on through apple/tree, door/key, honey/bee – the simple word play of the lyric set to a languid, gently passing melody, the song likely to have been more affecting without the intrusive backing vocals.
By some way the most memorable of the trio, ‘Out the Blue‘ finds John conveying deep emotions in a simplistic but purposeful manner, (‘Out the Blue you came to me/And blew away life’s misery‘). After the song begins with Lennon playing melancholy acoustic guitar chords, it moves up a gear with some decorative electric guitar, strident piano and gospel harmonies, which for the most part enhance what it is, a tender narrative.
The most striking couplet is ‘All my life has been a long slow knife/I was born just to get to you/Anyway, I survived/Long enough to make you my wife,’ John also comparing Yoko to a U.F.O. for the way she entered his orbit, this well-written, superbly polished track an undoubted highpoint of Lennon’s post-‘Imagine‘ output.
Side two opener ‘Intuition‘ reflects light-heartedly on the vagaries of life, John, to the accompaniment of rollicking piano and jolly organ refrain, found in self-congratulatory mood, confident his sense of proportion is in good working order:
‘Well, my instincts are fine, I had to learn to use them/In order to survive/And time after time/Confirmed an old suspicion/It’s good to be alive.’
He would return to the theme of playing ‘the game of life‘ as far forward as the ‘Double Fantasy‘ album of November 1980, although for now in the summer of 1973, Lennon was still not adverse to sticking his oar into the waters of politics. ‘Bring On the Lucie‘ (Freda People) and ‘Only People‘ each outline his vision for freedom from repression and higher human purpose than war and suffering.
On the former he attaches a campaigning lyric to a catchy melody, the hook provided by resounding slide guitar, setting out the case for a better world shaped by universal well-being rather than the self-interest of those in power:
‘You’re making all our decisions/We have just one request of you/That while you’re thinking things over/ Here’s something you just better do/Free the people now (do it, do it, do it now).’
While there is obvious similarity to ‘Power to the People‘, a non-album single which became a worldwide hit in 1971, Lennon makes his point without having to climb onto a soapbox – wooing his audience with sly humour rather than a sledgehammer when taking aim at power mad bureaucrats:
‘We understand your paranoia/But we don’t wanna play your game/You think you’re cool and know what you are doing/666 is your name.’
‘Only People‘ cannot be faulted for exuberance, but is carried to the point of sounding like a television commercial. On clavinet Lennon gives the song some distant funk overtones, the saxophone solo from Brecker is top draw, so it feels churlish to deride John for sounding joyous, (when you can hear him that is, the vocal swamped by the backing singers), after being so jaundiced on ‘Sometime in New York City‘.
But for a writer of his stature the lyric, ‘Only people realize the power of people/Well, a million heads are better than one/So come on, get it on‘, is no great shakes – John later revealing he was not an admirer of the track either:
‘It was a good lick,’ he remarked in a 1980 interview with Playboy magazine, ‘but I couldn’t get the words to make sense.’
There are no words of any description on ‘Nutopian International Anthem‘ a three second period of silence given over to the anthem of an imagined country conjured by John and Yoko, the couple being its only inhabitants – the backdoor of their New York apartment in the Dakota building bearing a sign that read, ‘Nutopian Embassy.’
Lyrics, very good ones as well, can be found on ‘I Know‘ (I Know). Lennon is once more in apologetic frame of mind, the subject of his remorse seemingly Paul rather than Yoko.
Since they had parted company as members of The Beatles, he and McCartney had taken to song in firing pot shots at one another. Lennon took off the gloves to hit Paul with the gleefully spiteful ‘How Do You Sleep?’ on ‘Imagine‘ which contained the cutting assertion, ‘The only thing you done was yesterday/And since you’ve gone you’re just another day.’
Taking the lead on acoustic guitar John acknowledges he has some maturing to do, (‘I am only learning to tell the trees from the wood’), coaxing a memorable performance from the supporting players as it develops into a sophisticated rock ballad. Lennon uses the word play he adopted to skewer Paul two years ago to now express affection and regret.
‘Today I love you more than yesterday/Right now I love you more right now.’
Having also made reference to the Beatles 1967 opus in his ‘How Do You Sleep?‘ attack, (‘So Sgt. Pepper took you by surprise’), he offers a form of retraction by name-checking a track from that momentous release, (‘And I know it’s getting better all the time/As we share each other’s mind‘) – John and Paul, moving to a point of restored cordiality, would be photographed together the following year.
The only thing detracting from what is otherwise an exemplary piece of writing and playing are the over wrought background vocals and as such lessen the impact of what Lennon is expressing.
Several critics expressed themselves in no uncertain terms when the album appeared. Jon Landau in Rolling Stone found no shortage of vitriol in describing ‘Mind Games‘ as ‘His worst writing yet‘ while at the same time accused Lennon of ‘helplessly trying to impose his own gargantuan ego upon an audience waiting hopefully for him to chart a new course.’
His fellow scribe, Robert Christgau, described it as, ‘A step in the right direction, but only a step,’ awarding it a miserly C+ in his renowned A-D rating scale. Back in his homeland, Lennon found the New Musical Express being slightly more positive, although ‘Bears all the hallmarks of being made without any definite objective in mind – other than to redeem the unpleasantness of Some Time In New York City,’ was hardly resounding endorsement.
He did have the satisfaction of once more having an album accruing respectable sales, ‘Mind Games‘ reaching number 13 in the U.K. and 9 across the Atlantic. But even then it did not fare as well as those released by Paul (‘Band on the Run‘), George (‘Living in the Material World‘) or Ringo (‘Ringo‘) in the same year, the effort from Lennon quickly dismissed as the rock press waxed lyrical over the offerings of Starr and McCartney in particular.
As years passed the artist himself found little in the album to excite him, (‘The cover says more than the record to me‘) not the most defiant comment a rock star has ever made in defence of their own work. The sleeve in question is adapted from the cover of a book ‘Floor on the Sky‘ by photographer David Plowden, adjusted to now incorporate photos of John, perhaps symbolically, walking away from Yoko.
After the inconsistencies and general mishmash of ‘Mind Games‘ where he was heading next could be anyone’s guess.
JOHN LENNON – MIND GAMES (Released October 29 1973):
Mind Games/Tight A$/Aisumasen (I’m Sorry)/One Day (At a Time)/Bring On the Lucie (Freda People)/Nutopian International Anthem/Intuition/Out the Blue/Only People/I Know (I Know)/You Are Here/Meat City;
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