Reviews
 Keep It Simple
Van Morrison
Roger McGuinn @ the Huntington IMAC, Long Island, NY - April 4, 2008
Emily Saxe @ the Allen Room/Jazz at Lincoln Center - April 5, 2008
Another Country
Tift Merritt
Be Your Own Pet
Get Awkward
Paul McCartney – The McCartney Years (DVD)
Juno – Music from the Motion Picture
Various Artists
Yes - Their Definitive Story
Day and Night Driving
Seven Mary Three
InterMedia Arts Center 2/2/08
Huntington, NY
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Verve
“Bittersweet Symphony” is a pop song for the ages, a song that will be as relevant to its time and place as “All You Need is Love” or “Johnny B. Goodie” were to theirs. In its essence, it depicts the mood of the late 90’s better than any other song. Just as interesting is its topicality. On one hand, “Bittersweet Symphony” possesses an introspective melody with poignant lyrics reflecting on self-motivation and the meaning of life. On the other, it’s a simple but catchy little ditty that sounds great emanating from a portable radio. Unfortunately, the band won’t be seeing much cash from the song, and if we’re talking about publishing royalties, they won’t see one red cent. Why? Because the laws that govern music publishing has relegated all publishing royalties to the party owning the rights to the Jagger-Richard composition “The Last Time”.
The legal system has time and again proven itself to be less than adept at interpreting the intricacies of music publishing, particularly when it comes to rock and roll. As a genre, rock and roll is full of three-chord masterpieces and lyrics that paint images in broad strokes. The ingredients that differentiate one song from another aren’t so much in the chord structure and melody as they are in the attitude and presentation of the performers. When Elvis interpreted Leiber-Stoller’s “Hound Dog” after Big Mama Thornton, the song was essentially re-written. When Led Zeppelin stretched the blues sensibilities of a Willie Dixon composition to its absolute limits and came up with “Whole Lotta Love,” they re-configured anybody’s opinion of what the song previously had been. Part of rock and roll’s beauty is its pliable simplicity, but litigious types are constantly trying to claim ownership beyond reason. One incredible example was already covered earlier in this book, when George Harrison had to give up ownership of “My Sweet Lord” because the three-note pattern of the chorus was determined to resemble “He’s So Fine”. Perhaps more remarkable is the story regarding “Bittersweet Symphony.”
In the mid-sixties, Andrew Loog Oldham was manager of the Rolling Stones. Despite having no apparent musical ability, he had ambitions of being an artist, and often tried convincing the band to incorporate his musical suggestions. For their part, Messrs. Jagger and Richard considered Oldham’s creative ambitions to be something of a nuisance. One such idea was an album consisting entirely of orchestral arrangements of Rolling Stones songs, credited to ‘The Andrew Oldham Orchestra’(!). Despite the obvious unlikelihood of the blue-haired contingent tapping their toes to “Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown”, such was Oldham’s single-minded determination to ‘Do Something’ that the album was actually completed and released, making it as ludicrous a proposition as has ever been suggested, no less realized, in the entire history of rock and roll. Today, copies are very scarce, probably because any self-respecting Stones fan who heard it would immediately smash it to bits. Without reservation, I think its safe to classify the recordings on this album as artistically worthless, except perhaps to prove that Andrew Loog Oldham was one of the cheekiest self-promoters this planet had ever known.
Cut to the year 1997. Richard Ashcroft was in the process of reforming his band the Verve and preparing material for their next release. One song, called “Bittersweet Symphony”, had huge potential as a hit, and Ashcroft thought it would be a good idea to incorporate some new production ideas onto the song. Considering hip-hop’s tendency to crib snippets of other people’s recordings and use samples, Ashcroft had the rather ingenious idea of lifting a few bars of the string section from Andrew Loog Oldham’s insipid recording of “The Last Time.” Out of context and in the manner that it was utilized, the Jagger-Richard composition was completely unrecognizable, while simultaneously lending “Bittersweet Symphony” a sense of recognition that was both immediate and visceral. It turned out to be a stroke of genius that he would later regret.
Some time after Oldham’s album fell into the depths of obscurity (as if it was ever anywhere else), the Rolling Stones had negotiated a deal that caused them to lose publishing rights to their recordings made before 1970. This rather horrible situation came about because of their involvement with the notorious Allen Klein. As a parenthetical note, you might recall Klein from the late 60’s as the attorney who became deeply involved in the litigation that was taking place between the Beatles, instigating tensions that would eventually scar all parties. If you want some idea of Klein’s reputation, as parodied by the artists who ought to know, you must see the George Harrison produced Beatles parody The Rutles, which features the late, great John Belushi as a terrorizing attorney appropriately named Ron Decline. Klein somehow managed to take over everything he touched, and although the financial losses were considerable, such was the disdain of the Stones for Allen Klein that they were willing to walk away from their soon-to-be classic material simply to be rid of him. As a result, Klein’s company, ABKCO, ‘inherited’ copyrights to “Satisfaction”, “Mother’s Little Helper” ‘Get Off of My Cloud,” “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” and, most notably in this case, “The Last Time,” causing many people in the music industry to view Klein as the 20th century manifestation of Cortez.
This did not bode well for Richard Ashcroft and the Verve. As soon as Klein’s organization became aware of “Bittersweet Symphony”’s use of the Oldham sample, Ashcroft was notified that Klein would refuse clearance of the sample until ABKCO was granted a full 50% of all royalties. As the song was being readied for release under these terms, Klein modified his demand to 100% of the rights. Because of outdated publishing laws that allow such a thing to happen, Ashcroft was forced to demur, making “Bittersweet Symphony” the single most cogent example of the need for legal reform. Due to circumstances that were both implausible and patently unfair, a song containing music, words and a melody concocted by Ashcroft and performed by the Verve was now credited to the Andrew Loog Oldham Orchestra (!), with all songwriting credit going to Jagger-Richards (!!). Neither of the Glimmer Twins had even heard the song until the legal row had begun, but “Bittersweet Symphony” became the most well known and profitable ‘Jagger-Richards’ composition since the early eighties. To add insult to injury, ABKCO immediately licensed commercial rights for the song to Nike, making the song a focal part of an ad campaign to sell sneakers while it was still on the charts. Washing their hands of the entire ordeal, the Verve decided to donate their performance royalties to charity, with the lyrics serving as the best testimony to circumstances that had reeled completely out of their control;
“It’s a bittersweet symphony, that’s life
Trying to make ends meet
You’re a slave to money then you die.”
 
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