By the way, does anyone else hear a little tribute to Badfinger's "Day After Day" here? Not a huge surprise considering this track was written by George Harrison and Mal Evans...
Interrupting the summer doldrums for two versions of a song I've always loved (which seems appropriate since today is Ringo Starr's birthday).
Come for the great horn arrangements (and instrumental tracks played by most of Badfinger), stay for the goofy scenes of pianos in the snow, Ringo skiing poorly, and several snowmachine accidents waiting to happen.
There were rumors from the beginning that Ringo could not have possibly written this song (a huge step up from his previous ditties like "Octopus's Garden"). Decades later, a demo version surfaced with a George Harrison guide vocal (as well as a few extraneous "Hari Krishnas" that were buried in the final mix), raising questions about exactly how much of the song Harrison had written himself.
But as cool as the Harrison version is, there's something I've always loved about Ringo's vocal that Harrison didn't quite match.
These days, producers with computers strip vocals from one song, add beats, take samples from another song, add new vocals, and come up with something "new" (or at least new-ish).
(And if you're not sure you understand what a mashup is, listen to this. I'll wait.)
Harry Nilsson did the same thing. In 1967. With no computers or studio tricks.
Instead, Nilsson took a single Beatle song as a spine and wrapped around it vocal and instrumental licks from more than a dozen other songs. With no producers with computers to fix all his shitty tracks. The result was different from lame TV-show medleys and was fun and memorable (and a great way to respond to John Lennon's statement that Nilsson was his "favorite American band"). Not bad for a guy who was doing computer work for a bank and trying to peddle his songs to established acts. (Link for Gmail subscribers.)
Thirteen years later, Ringo Starr was in the middle of recording an album that would ultimately be retitled Stop and Smell the Roses. (John Lennon, 12 days before he was killed, gave Ringo demos of 2 new songs Lennon wrote for Ringo, including "Nobody Told Me." They made arrangements for Lennon to produce a session for Ringo to record the songs in early January 1981. When Lennon was killed in December 1980, Ringo couldn't bring himself to record the songs. An enhanced version of Lennon's demo would surface a few years later on the posthumous Milk and Honey album.)
For Stop and Smell the Roses, Harry Nilsson decided to revisit the technique he'd used for "You Can't Do That": with Nilsson producing (and singing background vocals) Ringo re-recorded his 1972 hit "Back Off Boogaloo" (now featuring the intro from "It Don't Come Easy" and more of a funk feel). Nilsson used "Back Off Boogaloo" as a structure from which he hung sections from a half-dozen other songs by Ringo and the Beatles. The result was mixed; mostly it worked, but it felt like it probably should have gone a lot farther. (Link for Gmail subscribers.)
So offering these examples from the years before Pro Tools and sophisticated music software, I put forth this simple idea:
Yeah, that's Ringo Starr looking horrible in an unkempt beard and dorky glasses. And, yeah, the girl is a pre-Princess Leia Carrie Fisher. And, yes, that's Sir Paul McCartney playing kazoo.
My only explanation: The 70s were a lot weirder than anyone thought.
Even jangly mope-rockers. Which means, yup, even fans of the Smiths & Morrissey.
Which brings me to this video of comedian Dave Hill at a speed-dating event aimed solely at Smiths fans. As Hill says "You really can't lose. Unless you don't like the Smiths and Morrissey, in which case you could lose." (Link for Gmail subscribers.)
Speaking of Valentine's Day, I am slightly ashamed to admit that I first knew the song "Only You" from the Ringo Starr cover (and not the great 1950s version by the Platters). (I blame the aliens in Ringo's space ship.)
And by the way, how wild does your night have to be that you would wind up in the morning in a bathrobe on top of the Capitol Records building in Hollywood with two statues, a space ship, and a singing alien? (Link for Gmail subscribers.)
An important part of the mythos of John Lennon is the 18-month "Lost Weekend" he spent in Los Angeles after separating from Yoko Ono. The official account is that Lennon drank, got high, and screwed around with May Pang while getting nothing done. While the drinking, drugging, and screwing are certainly true, Lennon actually got a ton done during that Lost Weekend.
Sure, he was thrown out of the Troubador when he and Harry Nilsson drunkenly heckled the Smothers Brothers (with Lennon wearing a tampon on his forehead), but during that 18 months, Lennon also:
Produced the Nilsson album Pussy Cats,
Recorded a bunch of oldies with producer Phil Spector (as part of a settlement of a lawsuit brought by Morris Levy from Roullette Records, who claimed Lennon stole parts of "Come Together" from Chuck Berry's "You Can't Catch Me" -- but agreed to drop the suit if Lennon recorded three songs Levy's publishing company owned),
Spent time with his song Julian (whose grade-school drawing reportedly inspired the song "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"), whom he hadn't seen for years,
Wrote and Recorded the Walls and Bridges album (which featured Julian drumming on one song),
Recorded his single to hit #1 in his lifetime (not counting the dozens of Beatle singles), "Whatever Gets You Through the Night" (with Elton John on piano and vocals),
Performed three songs with Elton John live at Madison Square Garden,
Co-wrote and sang on David Bowie's song "Fame,"
Wrote, sang and played on Ringo's "Goodnight Vienna,"
Hosted a weekly jam session at a rented house in Santa Monica (almost everyone who participated in these jam sessions is now in the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame),
Fought back against attempts by J. Edgar Hoover and Richard Nixon to have him deported,
Reunited with Paul McCartney in the studio for a jam session that also included Stevie Wonder, Bobby Keys, and Jesse Ed Davis (widely bootlegged under the title A Toot and A Snore in '74,
Recorded a radio commercial for Tower Records,
Appeared on the Grammy Awards and made bad jokes with Paul Simon (when Art Garfunkle accepted the award for Olivia Newton John, who won Record of the Year, the first thing Simon said was "I thought I told you to wait in the car"),
And made these two TV commercials (links one and two for Gmail subscribers):
Not bad for a "lost weekend."
PS: Ringo, the aliens want their cheap special effects back.
It's hard to imagine there are lazier excuses for books than Paul Simon's Lyrics 1964-2008 (which contains a very brief introduction and then his song lyrics laid out for $36) or Ringo Starr's Postcards from the Boys (which reprints postcards sent to Ringo over the years by the other Beatles for $25).
At least Paul Simon wrote these lyrics (and even if it's absurd, you still get more than 400 pages). Ringo's book repackages other people's artwork and other people's words (with a sentence comment on each postcard) in a book that's barely over 100 pages.
These books are so lazy that I can't even work myself into a good lather of outrage. (I mean, if Paul Simon and Ringo Starr are too lazy to write a real book, I'm too lazy to mock them mercilessly.)
So, if you've got $61 burning a whole in your pocket, don't buy these books... go buy some music!
These days, producers with computers strip vocals from one song, add beats, take samples from another song, add new vocals, and come up with something "new" (or at least new-ish).
Which means, yup, even fans of 
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