BADFINGER: NO DICE (1970)
1) I Can't Take It; 2) I Don't
Mind; 3) Love Me Do; 4) Midnight Caller; 5) No Matter What; 6) Without You; 7)
Blodwyn; 8) Better Days; 9) It Had To Be; 10) Watford John; 11) Believe Me;
12) We're For The Dark; 13*) Get Down; 14*) Friends Are Hard To Find; 15*) Mean
Mean Jemima; 16*) Loving You; 17*) I'll Be The One.
It is easy to see why this record is generally
seen as Badfinger's «proper» debut. It is their first album with a stable
lineup, as Joey Molland replaces Ron Griffiths, with Tom Evans switching to
bass duties — and all four members of the band sharing songwriting duties,
while no longer accepting donations from outside songwriters (not that they
were offered any: by this time, Paul McCartney had his own solo career and
could keep all of his non-Beatle-worthy trifles for himself if he wanted them
to appear at all). Furthermore, all the songs were written and recorded within
a limited time period, with the sole purpose of forming a coherent cycle.
And that they do. On No Dice, Badfinger are a perfectly competent, self-assured pop band
with one edge very faintly touching the hard-rock scene and the other one
reaching out to folk- and country-rock. They are not Beatles clones — even
though the album is full to the brim of conscious and subconscious Beatles
references and quotations, No Dice was
made out of love for music, not just out of the realization that «wouldn't
that be cool to be the next Beatles?»
Badfinger did inherit some of the elements of
the early Beatles' spirit — a propensity to keep it simple (occasionally,
simplistic, but we will have to cope
with the fact that the songwriting caliber of these lads was a little less
impressive than that of John/Paul and even George), a predilection for
idealistic sentimentality, and a penchant for expressing loneliness in music.
But all these things seemed to come quite naturally to the band members — they were lonely, idealistic, unsophisticated
sentimentalists, born to create lonely, idealistic, unsophisticated melodies.
And therefore, even their «rip-offs» are
perfectly forgivable. ʽBelieve Meʼ steals half a hook from Paul's ʽOh Darlingʼ,
but steers further proceedings into a soft, ironic, «homely» direction instead
of the deep soul tragedy of its main source of inspiration. The chorus of the
bonus outtake ʽI'll Be The Oneʼ accidentally (?) coincides with "eight
days a week...", but the arrangement of the song is far more «rootsy» than
the Beatles usually allowed themselves. And Joey Molland's ʽLove Me Doʼ
shamelessly steals its title from one of the Beatles' first songs and almost lifts the basic rhythm from one
of their last ones (ʽGet Backʼ), but did the Beatles ever have those crunchy
rhythm chords and loud, dynamic, distorted boogie solos on their songs? Not these ones, they didn't, if only because these
ones bear the mark of the next musical decade upon them.
The hit single ʽNo Matter Whatʼ is usually
singled out as the major highlight of the album, although the lead-in number,
ʽI Can't Take Itʼ, could be just as representative of Badfinger's brand of
power pop — it's just that ʽNo Matter Whatʼ has this instantly captivating
monster riff and a strong atmosphere of gallant chivalry about it (speaking in
Beatles terms, its chief inspiration would probably be ʽAnytime At Allʼ),
whereas ʽI Can't Take Itʼ is a bit more diffuse and does not wear its heart on
its sleeve. Over time, though, both songs should be able to take their rightful
stand in the "power pop laureates" corner of the museum — ʽI Can't
Take Itʼ, in particular, could serve on its own as the blueprint for most of
Cheap Trick's career.
At the same time, Badfinger show excellent
skill at exploring the depths of the human heart as well. ʽMidnight Callerʼ is
a ballad written in strict accordance with the McCartney recipé — simple, but
moving piano chords, «humanistic» vocal modulation, and sincere pity for the
protagonist à la ʽFor No Oneʼ. Like
McCartney when he's at his worst, though, the song sounds disappointingly
unfinished — "...she unlocks the door and there's no one there..." is
a fairly weak resolution for the bridge, and, overall, the song seems one or
two musical ideas too short, and the exploration of the human heart remains inconclusive.
Whereas ʽWithout Youʼ, a song that I would like
to like less than ʽMidnight Callerʼ,
preferring lonely melancholy over grand sentimentalism, is certainly one of the
most «conclusive» Badfinger songs ever, and this version, despite Harry
Nilsson's solid job with it several years later, still remains the definitive
one for me (granted, there have been many covers since, and the only other one
I know of belongs to Mariah Carey — no comments here). One can shed a river of
tears to it, or engage in four minutes worth of Bic-flickering, but what I like
most about it is: (a) Tom Evans' subtle bass work on the acoustic intro,
especially the moment at 0:39 into the song where his syncopated minimalism
morphs into full phrasing; (b) the equally minimalistic beauty of the guitar
solo, again, clearly influenced by Harrison's style but not necessarily
following any particular «Harrison-esque» chord layout. These are among the
elements that provide ʽWithout Youʼ with integrity and even «grit», saving it
from tumbling into a sea of cheap soft-rock mush — a sea that usually eagerly
waits for every song whose chorus goes "I can't live, if living is without
you". (At the bottom of this sea, you'll find Mariah Carey waiting for
you).
If there is anything close to a glaring misstep
on the album, it might be ʽWatford Johnʼ — that one time when Badfinger are not
trying to be themselves (by «being the next Beatles»), but instead try to
be... Elvis. (With even a «teddy
bear» reference in the lyrics). As long as you keep yourself from realizing
that fact, the piece works as a bit of generic boogie, but eventually it just
becomes sad, particularly since Badfinger can
rock — as long as they do not dress their rock and roll in the clothes of a
rockabilly revival. ʽLove Me Doʼ, snappy and modern as it is, works very well;
ʽWatford Johnʼ is a near-parodic send-up that doesn't.
But all in all, beginning with the muscular
power-pop of ʽI Can't Take Itʼ and ending with the pretty acoustic balladry of
Pete Ham's ʽWe're For The Darkʼ (a perennial fan favorite, although I still find
the melody somewhat flat), No Dice
is the ideal «unpretentious pop album» for 1970 — and marks a brief moment of
good time for Badfinger, when the band really had a chance to make it on the
strength of their singles; a chance blown away almost entirely due to the
incompetence and greed of their management. Not a masterpiece — mainly because the
ratio of «cool ideas» per song is too small — but a very solid thumbs up
all the same. And the bonus outtakes on the CD edition are well worth taking in
as well.
Check "No Dice" (MP3) on Amazon
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete(sigh...I need to accept that I will never find all the typos...)
ReplyDeleteI love this band: so much heart. Everyone in the band could write good songs; the only analogous major group that comes to mind in this respect is (dare I say) Queen. They were all outstanding "feel" players, and Pete in particular also had impressive guitar chops, not far from his friend George Harrison. (Pete was also something of a multi-instrumentalist, as his posthumous demo albums show.)
There's a lot going on on this album... I'll comment on a few more songs:
"I Don't Mind" -- this has very much the sound and feel of Big Star's first album, which it anticipates by a couple of years.
"Better Days" -- nice, loping country feel with those guitar lines from Joey. (Usually, but not always, Joey plays lead on Joey's songs and Pete does on Pete's, so you can identify their styles. Pete's playing is more fluid and generally better; Joey's is a little more Lennonesque -- think of the triple solo in "The End" -- and has a more "stinging" tone.)
"It Had To Be" -- nice number from the drummer; all of his subsequent numbers (AFAIK) feature him singing. Amazing how moody they all were, as you mention. No wonder they took it so horribly (and in Pete's case, engaged in active denial at first) when their manager screwed them.
"Watford John" -- I can't stand this one either. Generic boogie was one of their major taste-lapses.
"Friends Are Hard To Find" -- neither a major song nor does it sound finished, yet there's something instinctive here... these guys really had pop-rock in their bones.
"Loving You" -- Can't believe that this and "I'll Be The One" went unreleased for so long. Granted, the latter wouldn't have fit on "Straight Up", but it could have been a single in 1971 -- hell of a good song, even with the (I suspect unintentional) Fabs nick. But "Loving You" would have fit, with its "All Thing Must Pass" vibe. Composer/drummer Mike Gibbins even sounds like George here.
How anyone could diss these guys for sounding like the Beatles is beyond me. If their voices blend in a similar way, how is this their fault, or even a problem? As you say, they certainly weren't clones; they just had ears, ability, and a love for the genre. Sure, they weren't as *original as the Beatles, nor nearly as *diverse, but I can let these two factors slide somewhat as long as your other three for great music are in place. Badfinger were one of the most *listenable bands ever (at least when they weren't rushing out product and/or letting Joey write too much), and almost acheingly *resonant. And with the exception of a couple of bonehead lyrics, they never ventured into the cringeworthy territory of *inadequacy either. One of the greatest early '70's artists (which by definition, imo, makes them one of the greatest ever). With "No Dice", "Straight Up", half of "Ass" and "Badfinger", "Wish You Were Here", and a bit of their first record along with most of their last, delayed-release one ("Head First"), they've got five great albums. More than, say, Wings (counting "Ram"!) or Elton John, although Wings almost certainly do have the equivalent of five great albums if you do some sorting and weeding, and the same may even be true for Elton. Point being, they're in that same tier...
The riff at the start and at the end of 'Better Days' sounds very close to the one in 'I Feel Fine'.
Delete@Alexis - true. Never caught that one before either, and it's not as if I'm deaf to such things -- it's hard for me to enjoy it when Ray Davies nicks a riff, or for that matter when Peter Buck keeps recycling his own. But with both this and "I'll Be The One", Badfinger aren't just appropriating the hook to prop up an otherwise unremarkable song. They're taking it (perhaps unconsciously, maybe as tribute, as George mentions; but not brazenly) and putting it in a new context, alongside other hooks, and making something different (and good) of it, much like Hari did with "My Sweet Lord". I don't mind this at all. I love this genre and want to hear new permutations. Let's face it, when you break things down enough in rock, there are only so many basic building blocks to work with.
Delete"How anyone could diss these guys for sounding like the Beatles is beyond me."
ReplyDeleteBadfinger, as far as the songs I know go, dó sound like The Beatles very much. The real question is if we should hold it against them. In my comments on the previous album I argue we shouldn't. Instead we should judge the songs on their merits, Beatlesque or not.
Well, they are good. Not that I'm a fan; but I'm not a fan of The Beatles either.
Originality is an overrated quality in music, even by GS on his original site. From hís point of view I think he rated the band too low.
@MNb - yes, agree all around. Badfinger sounds like the Beatles, and that, for Beatles fans, is the good news. I wish more bands would play in this territory so effectively. Granted, Badfinger got into the game when there was still some relatively untrodden ground. Still, they did encounter critical snobbery that today would probably be praise of their "uncanny ability to... (blah blah blah)". Well, I guess World Party, for example, got dissed by some for sounding so retro, but again, for me all that is a feature, not a bug.
DeleteI have to disagree with GS on We're for the Dark. I do appreciate that you've warmed up to it since last time, but that melody is anything but flat. Maybe a little cliche on the chorus, but as we've demonstrated above, this is not necessarily a negative. But the stucture and chord sequence, particularly that shift upward preceding the chorus (VI Chord? Where's Red Heylin when I need him!) demonstrate Pete's innate ability to develop melodies and hooks.
ReplyDeleteI have really come to respect this sad-eyed but deeply-gifted young man and wonder what might have been had he stayed with us. He had the ear of a producer and the artistic sensitivity of a poet, and I love that he could so effortlessly pull double duty on guitars and keys. And that voice. Somehow, he managed to have the lilt of a tenor with the manly resonance of a baritone. You can tell he was born to play music--folk, Broadway, rock & roll, it didn't matter--and also flourished in the rich musical soil of postwar Britain. It didn't hurt that he had close access to John and Paul's genius from whom to learn a tip or two, but it was just fine tuning, really. One of the lost heroes, he was!
I suspect that maybe what is "flat" about WFTD is that after all of those crunchy, ballsy grooves and hooks, the album ends with a low-key, string-led ballad that seems out-of-place on what is now considered the original autograph of British power pop. It's also is ironic that such a bright, cheerful tune has "The Dark" in the title. Maybe they not only prophesied the advent of power pop, but also the over-use of irony in modern music?