Prince is one of my heroes, so you might be wondering why the Prince page on my website is fairly barren.  Well, the truth is, I’d probably have every Prince music video and performance I could get my hands on if I could, but Prince and his legal team make it damn near impossible to for anyone on the internet to post his music and videos.  Well, there is one performance that thankfully is available for the public to consume, and that is of Prince’s epic guitar heroics at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Prince was inducted in the same year George Harrison was honored as a solo artist, and so Dhani Harrison, George’s son, invited Prince on stage for the performance of the White Album classic, “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”  I read somewhere that Prince had never even heard the song before, though that’s hard to believe as Prince peeled off one of the greatest and most showstopping flawless guitar solos of all time.  What is especially spectacular about the performance is that the man who played the original solo on the record, Eric Clapton, was a bit of a guitar legend too, so Prince had a lot to live up to.  The thing is, sometimes people forget that Prince is Prince.  The man is rightfully one of the greatest musical geniuses of the pop era, and one of the more criminally underrated ones too.  Rumor has it that Prince played such an insanely great solo in response to the snub he felt after being left off of Rolling Stone Magazine’s top 100 guitar players ever list.  Prince proves that he belongs somewhere on that list, perhaps in the top ten, so watch this clip if you’ve never seen it, and take in the “purple’s one’s” majesty of rock.  Oh, and lastly, at the end of the song, Prince hurls his guitar into the sky towards the audience, and it never lands…a new mystery for our time.

If you glance over the music trade papers (or internets) as I do on occasion, you might have noticed on the periphery that Paul McCartney is planning a re-release of his incredibly great solo album Ram.  Now Ram is quite simply one of my favorite albums of all time.  It’s easily my favorite solo McCartney album by a mile, and rotates in and out of the #1 spot for my own personal best solo Beatle album list.  At the time of its release,  Ram was unjustly criticized by rock critics for a bunch of complicated reasons.  One of them was that many of the tunes are credited to both Paul and Linda McCartney, a fact many cynical rock people had trouble swallowing.  John Lennon himself took offense to the album as two songs on there, “Too Many People,” and “Dear Boy,” had biting little obscure inside jokes, or digs at John and Yoko.  I’ll cover those songs and their natures later this week though.  Anyway, the point is, everybody was caught up in the bullshit of Ram, and not the music.  Now, objectively, the music on Ram is basically as good as anything you’d find on the “White Album.”  If you loved what McCartney was doing in 1968, you’ll love what he was doing in 1971.  It’s the only way I can describe it, Ram is Paul McCartney’s “White Album” songwriting stylizations part II.  Its Paul at his psychedelic best.  Just take a listen to “Monkberry Moon Delight,” in many ways Paul’s response to “I am the Walrus.”  It’s a frenzied piano stomping masterpiece of jibberish.  You can almost see Paul frothing at the mouth, mashing the keys the so hard that it detunes the piano.  It’s a cult classic, and if you never heard it, you’re in for quite the treat, so check out the song below, and watch the fantastic assortment of Paul and Linda home movies that go along with it.  Ram on….

One year ago, as a birthday present to myself, I launched williesimpson.com to a total of 12 viewers, 99% of those viewers being myself, and even I wasn’t impressed.  Yes, the start was slow, but over the course of the year, after presenting a top 100 list of my favorite youtube videos, being nominated for CBS’s best NYC blogger, and updating you fine folks from all over the world with my own homemade music, I’d like to say that the site has really gained its wings, all with practically zero publicity.  Over the past year, I’ve had close to 140,000 page views, from every state in America, and practically every country in the world.  It’s astounding, and a fantastic motivator to keep going.  The site, if you’ve noticed, has been on a bit of a hiatus the last two weeks as I transition for the last leg of my international journey.  For those not aware, I have been spending time in the beautiful Sydney, Australia the last 5 months.  I’m going to spend the next month in Thailand, and will have very limited internet access.  The site will kick into full gear again around late March, when I return to New York City, so stay tuned.  Lastly, I couldn’t have an update without some music, and I couldn’t celebrate an anniversary without the Beatles.  So here is some cobbled together fake live performance of “Birthday,” the Beatles White Album thriller for you all to enjoy.  Again, thanks a lot to everyone, I couldn’t do it without you.

Paul McCartney had so many wonderful moments in his time with the Beatles, some big, some small, but all beautiful.  I have an ultra rare clip of the man playing “Blackbird,” his gorgeous ballad from the White Album.  This is footage of Paul playing the song for Beatles producer George Martin in the Abbey Road studios in 1968.  Paul wrote the song in Scotland thinking on the subject of civil rights, and the song is meant as a tribute to black women everywhere (bird being British slang for girl.)  The intricate acoustic backing was inspired by J.S. Bach’s “Bourree in E minor,” a piece meant for lute and classical guitar.  Paul took the songs main element, the simultaneous plucking of the bass and top strings, then shifted and rearranged the piece in the key of G.  “Blackbird” is one of Paul’s most heartfelt and genuine songs, so much so that he took it upon himself to play it for the Apple Scruffs, (die hard Beatle fans,) on his front lawn the first night Linda McCartney slept over his house, obviously overcome with joy.  The video below is a little grainy, but a remarkable document of Paul in one of his most fertile songwriting phases.  Also, gotta love those red and yellow psychedelic shoes he used to tap out the rhythm.

There are a lot of “Worst Beatle Songs” lists out there, and they all have the same formula.  The writer lists 2-3 songs that are absolute duds, and then sprinkles in a few that are actually classics just to fuck with people’s long held opinions.  In preparing for this piece, I read those articles, many written by major magazines, and top online blogs, and saw songs like “Hey Jude,” “All You Need is Love,” “Yesterday,” and “Penny Lane.”  It’s simply a travesty, even if you are just trying to get attention, to lump any of those songs onto a “worst ever” list, and you won’t see it here.  Also, its mandatory for all of these writers to include “Revolution #9,” a song loathed and skipped the world over.  I know its equally pretentious to claim being a fan of “Revolution #9,” but count me as one.  I just think it adds richness and color to the “White Album.”  It’s interesting to listen to, not a bore at all, and has really nice snippets of sound effects and music woven into it very beautifully.  It’s experimental, daring, and fuck you for criticizing the Beatles for trying something off the wall after giving you the soundtrack to your life.  Ok, with all that said, I’m going to give you the three worst Beatle songs according to me.  Now, I also want to preface, that despite the fact that I think these songs are terrible, I still let them play if they pop on my iPod, and they still get stuck in my head.

#3.  “Mr. Moonlight”- This is a song that finds its way on most lists, and for good reason; its probably the worst cover the Beatles ever did.  John’s lead vocal is forced and the backing vocals are lame.  It’s one of these ancient 50s standards that the Beatles can’t quite seem to bring into the next decade.  I just don’t understand why the guys liked this song enough to put it on one of their albums.  The lyrics are insanely embarrassing and bad, “we love you, Mr. Moonlight.”  Lastly, when they repeat “Mr. Moonlight” to end the song with a dark three part harmony, its just dreadful, and possibly the worst harmonizing they ever laid on tape.

#2.  “A Taste of Honey”- Another cover song.  This one has lyrics more thoroughly embarrassing then “Mr. Moonlight,” and musically, its just as awful.  It’s some kind of dark samba like shuffle with utterly bizarre emotional and lyrical moments with the main dramatic hook being biggest offender, “A taste of HONEY!…tasting, much sweeter, then wine, doo doo do dooo!”  The thing about this song is that it’s terrifyingly catchy.  You will probably be humming the start and stop melody for a week in the back of your brain after hearing, so be warned.  Perhaps the Beatles recorded it to show off their range at playing show tunes, or perhaps they appreciated its catchy refrain, the number one ingredient they were searching for in their own songwriting.  Whatever they were really thinking when making “A Taste of Honey,” is hard to fathom, and thus can only be appreciated with irony, delicious as it might be.

#1. “Do You Want to Know a Secret”- Before George was George, he was just the youngest member of the Beatles.  He hadn’t cultivated any songwriting ability, and his voice wasn’t as strong as John or Paul’s, but being a Beatle, he had a massive fan base that wanted to hear from him.  So, John and Paul took it upon themselves to write songs for George and Ringo, and were quite clever about it. They realized that there would be a huge demand for it, and that they could give the lesser songs, they themselves to embarrassed to sing, to George and Ringo, just to get rid of them.  One of these songs was “Do You Want to Know a Secret.”  Right away, you can tell why John dumped this thing on George.  It starts off with an ambitious declaratory and unmusical refrain, but then kicks off into the schmaltziest take on 60s doo-wop ever heard.  The backing vocals say it all, “doo-wah-doo” sung after ever line with shameless pixie like stupidity.  The most immortal line, “I’ve known a secret for a week or two, nobody knows, just we twoooo,” is a crime not only against music, but grammar as well.  John famously said that he gave it to George because, “it only had three notes and he wasn’t the best singer in the world.”  He did qualify the brutally harsh statement by saying “he has improved a lot since then.”  John said that in 1980, a full decade after George’s rise to genius songwriter/performer, so he’s either being sarcastic by limiting his praise for George, or just outright mean. Either way he ignores the fact that he wrote the stupid song, and it would sound awful coming from anybody.  On the plus side, there is still something magical going on, mainly its unstoppable catchiness.  The melody is timeless…existing at the lowest wrung of timeless melodies, but hanging in, somehow.  It proves that even at their worst, the Beatles had some enchanted sense of beauty that permeated everything they touched…..doo-wah-dooo.

It’s always easy to return to the master of reggae, one Mr. Bob Marley, and this time I have his timeless classic “Three Little Birds” from Exodus.  I always think of this song when trying to convince somebody of Bob’s overall songwriting genius.  I’ll put it simply; this song is as good as anything the Beatles wrote in their prime, reminding me strongly of “Dear Prudence” for some reason.  Maybe because like that song, it’s an elemental masterpiece about living peacefully in nature.  It’s got one of the most guileless melodies of all time, a strait-forward harmonic exultation of love, comfort, and peace.  There must be millions and millions of people worldwide that have been charmed by this three minute gem, and lo and behold, there is an official music video!  Who knew?  Well, I got it here for you to help feed your Bob Marley addiction.  Enjoy.

The oddly named Olivia Tremor Control hail from Ruston, Louisiana, and are probably the most beautiful thing ever to come out of that place.  Along with Robert Schneider’s Apples in Stereo, the OTC were founding members of the Elephant 6 Collective, the group of like-minded psychedelic  enthusiasts who sought to re-inject the world with the sort of pure kaleidoscopic bliss not heard since 1967.  Fronted by the songwriting team of Bill Doss and Will Cullen Hart, Bill and Will churned out two timeless records of 90s indie rock, possibly the best ever, with back to back double albums, Dusk at Cubist Castle and Black Foliage.  These records are monuments to their ability to carve beauty out of sound.  Filled with fragments, song experiments, and some of the greatest psychedelic pop songs ever, the two records weave together in a gorgeous cacophony of sonic splendor.  If you’re the kind of person who loves the Beatles “White Album,” and always wondered what the  Beach Boys completed Smile would sound like, just buy, download, or steal the OTC’s records immediately.  The band never released any official music video that I know of, so you’ll have to do with straight up still youtube videos as samples, but my preview is going to glide you along OTC’s chronological history.  The first song, “Love Athena,” is from their earliest days, appearing on compilation records California Demise and Singles and Beyond.  It is the great white whale of underground psychedelic pop rock, filling you with feelings of nostalgic love for perfect lost days.  I kind of hate how they mumble some of the greatest lyrics ever written.  Just check out the chorus, “Shining like Athena in a silver suit of armor, Her love is like a nail and now I’ll bring down the hammer, Sprouting like a flower on a hill top where I’ll find her, Where I’ll plant a seed and watch it grow into the streaming light of love.”  Unbelievable poetry.  The next song, “Memories of Jacqueline 1906,” is from Dusk at Cubist Castle, and is just a perfect rock and roll raga.  I have no idea what the song is about, but its basically like a lost melody the Beatles might have churned out in early 1968 when they were meditating in India.  That introductory electric and acoustic guitar part is so perfect, my God, just play it!  Last is the song “Black Foliage (Itself)” from the epic Black Foliage record, (itself.)  Hah.  This song is just a masterpiece of sonic architecture, with sounds rushing in and out, all orbiting around a melody and words so dark and beautiful.  I love how the song keeps crashing into itself like ocean waves at midnight.  All this stuff is hard not to describe abstractly, so I really suggest you get right to work and listen to these tracks, then get everything they’ve ever done.  Before  I go, if they are reading this, I just want to thank the Olivia Tremor Control for creating some of the greatest music of all time, and inspiring me to make music as well.  From one Willie to a Bill and Will, you guys are the best.

I’m not ready to leave John’s 1972 concert just yet.  Yesterday I posted about “Come Together,” and in the past I posted the live performance of “Cold Turkey.”   Despite the fact that Yoko only released the inferior afternoon version of the show, as opposed to the superior evening version, there are still incredible worthwhile performances to be had, and John’s performance of “Mother” is one of them.  “Mother” is the unofficial sequel to John’s Beatle song “Julia” from the White Album.  Julia Lennon was struck down by an  drunk driving off duty police officer when he was 17.  Her death was already the 3rd or 4th tragic moment in a young life that was quickly piling up memorable scenes of wretched heartbreak.  By that point, young John already had to deal with the sorted split up between his parents which included an aborted kidnapping, the death of his uncle George, the strict surrogate parenting of his aunt Mimi, the discovery that his mother had another family whom all lived down the road without his knowledge, and the complete abandonment of his father who provided no support and lived in New Zealand.  The death of his mother, who he had just begun a reconciliation with, pushed John over the edge personality wise and hardened his soul.  The song “Mother” is the result of a bunch of soul searching and therapy, and is subsequently a triumph of someone who refused to be swallowed up by sadness, bitterness, and rage.  It’s one of John’s best songs, and one of my favorites too.  BTW, today is the last day to vote me in as CBS’s Best Local NYC Blogger, so, cast me one last vote for all time’s sake!  Thanks.

To paraphrase George Harrison, “the “you” in the song, is God.”  Gaining this insight gives the song even more creepy mysticism.  “Long, Long, Long,” from the “White Album,” is officially one of my favorite Beatles songs.  Like many people growing up with the Beatles, I wasn’t a fan of the song until I got much older.  When I was a little kid, it was too quiet (probably the quietest Beatles song in the catalog) and too boring for me to really feel.  As I grew older,  I realized it was a master class of songwriting and personal expression, and it began to affect me greatly.  It’s simply a fantastic gorgeous ode to love and God, expressed in the most ambiguous way imaginable.  I also love the little high pitched organ part, which reminds me of an ice queen ballerina dancing alone in the snow.  What’s that mysterious rattle at the end of the song you ask?  It’s a bottle of wine vibrating to the frequency of a peculiar Hammond organ note being played by Paul McCartney.  Pretty cool no?  You know what else is cool, you only have 4 more days to vote me as CBS’s Best Local NYC Blogger, by clicking here!

I wrote this song last fall, recorded it in the winter, started the music video in the spring, and put it away till..well…today.  The reason it’s the 7th part is because it took 7 mixes for me to get it just right.  Musically, this song was inspired by John Lennon’s “Julia,” and George Harrison’s “Not Guilty.”  I was going to call it, “The Road to Mandalay,” but I realized that British pop star Robbie Williams already had a song by that name, and the appeal of such a title went out the window.  The guitar picking was done on my ’75 Yamaha acoustic, and the guitar solo was played on my Epiphone Casino.  I really wish I could have made a beautiful live version video of the song, but I don’t have the money to arrange for it to be done perfectly. What you get instead is a charming little exercise in the wonder that is Microsoft Paint.  I gave up making the video many months ago because creating all the titles for the lyrics was so tedious that I lost interest until today, when I realized that I’m now unemployed, and it would have been a shame to not get it done when I had the chance.  I hope you enjoy it, and if you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask.  Oh, and of course, please vote me as NYC’s best local blogger in the CBS contest where I am a finalist.  Thanks.