Posts Tagged ‘beatles’

Yellow Submarine

August 6, 2010

The iconic Yellow Submarine

Every fool knows that the Dave Clark Five were the most successful band to ever roam the face of this our planet Earth. Their name is synonymous not only with the swinging sixties, but with pop music itself. It is them we have to thank for literally millions of billions of trillions of songs; songs that we sing in the bath, the shower and on the bog, pooing in time with the catchy idiosyncratic melodies.

The DC5 were not only Britain’s foremost popstars, they also made a bunch of films, including this animated psychedelic classic, Yellow Submarine. Drawing from the group’s extensive catalogue of hit records, the film was based on a their finest work, their masterpiece, their greatest gift to the artistic cannon of the human race: a shitty cod nursery rhyme sung by the drummer.

This 1968 arthouse magnum opus happened to be showing at a cultural centre not 20 blocks from my house and I availed myself of the opportunity to swing by. Since Old Rope believes moving drawings to be an affront to god, and furthermore one that can make your brain overheat and explode, I elected not to watch the film itself. Rather I confined myself to reading the Spanish subtitles. From this I could hazard a guess as to the film’s content.

Epitome of cool

Largely spoken in Aramaic, the plot focuses on the travails of a fictional group, not altogether dissimilar to the Dave Clark Five (DCF), and their attempts to sanitise the world. In a universe populated with lunatics and bedlam, our heroes must insert rods up backsides and make sure everyone gets a proper job and returns to their natural place in society.

Since DCF were unavailable or unwilling to disentangle themselves from London’s more exclusive opium dens, a number of former US presidents were exhumed to voice the protagonists.

As Benjamin Franklin croaks “Hey, fellas, look at this fab moteycar!” and Roosevelt chirps “Gear!” through a dusty, wormy voice, it is almost impossible to distinguish them from the real deal. It is exactly as though the DCF are in the cinema with you, synchronising their own voices with the moving pictures.

I shant spoil the ending, but suffice to say that there is a parade of rheumatic lepers, a horse with three willies and a banana that talks (possibly the illusive and never-explained allegorical “Yellow Submarine” of the title?). Goodness, it was enough to remind me of college and my own ill-spent youth, time divided between a gang of lepers, talking to a banana and looking at horses willies. Happy days indeed.

From what I could discern from the faces of those around me, the drawings were well rendered, and perfectly captured the straight-laced, uptight style of the time. Indeed the slight drooling of one viewer positively cried out “I am watching a perfect period piece”.

With cast-iron casting, high-art visuals and lashings of DCF’s finest concertos, it is a unfathomable that Yellow Submarine failed to win more awards (a mere 14 Oscars seems an insult in its paucity). I enjoyed not watching it immensely.

Banjo vandalism… a cut-up review

July 27, 2009

All this talk of William S. Burroughs got me in the mood for some mischievous cut-up fun. So I had a sniff round some of the reviews and I thought John Le Baptiste’s review of A Hard Day’s Night could benefit from some Burroughs style sabotage. I used the Lazarus Corporation’s text mixing desk and used just a single cut-up engine module, with a setting of six words per cut. I think the resulting text makes much more sense than JLB’s original post. See what you think:

A Hard Day’s Night by John Le Baptiste (Banjo Fett remix)

Proven that george was at least half entrance into the capersome world of halfway through, when the ‘quazy sagacity and indian-style insight. in the top of the barrel, laugh, no tried and tested way of deciding in fact it has been scientifically favourite scene in this film came eric morecambe and ernie wise pale and sad. I could never work out ostensibly, not. I think my that of a distressed piglet. the hilarious and witty but chicken chunks down a small aperture 1964? styleless unhip guttersnipe undulating hillocks of a vernal chapman – the list goes on.

my all so unique and different, except we hear a shrill cry, similar to as enlightened as the dalai lama, when I, in years past, resided in reputedly saw this film and did a seasonal displacement the day’s night? is it the sense of film you will be transformed. many beatles magical mystery tour bus in the respect that john and george who, as we all know, is day’s night.

wowee. what must it responses to this question. lulu, pope john paul ii, mark merry little twirl around a film ends with the group climbing doesn’t really matter. what matters midwinter? probably not. but you can only after they have disappeared do most basic, hand-gesture-based of ferrying tourists about the city. rock and roll. it may actually have is that after you have seen this scandinavian peoples feel when hard day’s night’.

what is a hard profound and fab in equal maudlin fashion, ‘those meffs are incapable of formulating even the always doing that, la’. pure big-faced guitarist of the byrds, hibernating stoats. everyone laughs why. here is my review of a hard of rag and loathsome half-chewed camera peers through the hole to thankfully, I have an audio-visual stranded in the midst of the 24 hour unfortunately inaudible. meadow. they come upon a barrel are deceased and paul and ringo are, tree, and start throwing dirty bits measure.

david crosby, erstwhile who the fabbest beatle is. they are be sure that whatever it is, it is unquantifiably enlightened.

the reveal former beatles drummer pete aid to help me, in the form of ‘a best, lamenting, in a comically on account of his superhuman individuals from all walks of life then scamper away at high speed. been roger mcguinn who did this. it quartet’ (copyright noel edmonds) already nestled within like perma-darkness of the arctic have been like to be the beatles in that I am, my mind is terminally everyone inside invariably looked cinematic gold!

there is, alas, were scuttling up and down the lamppost, thus heralding his squeakingly and john says something into bed together, only to discover favourite beatle is probably george, standing inexplicably under a willow liverpool I frequently saw the have reported similar experiences: