Well Worth the Listen
Yoko Ono’s newest set of re-issues is, unsurprisingly, highly experimental in nature. While she will forever and perhaps unfairly be labeled as the impetus for the breakup of the most cherished rock band in history, Ono is also a quality musician and daring artist in her own right. Her Plastic Ono Band marks a bold foray into electronic music, while Unfinished Music No. 1: Two Virgins pushes the envelope even further with its avant-garde expression of soundscapes. Lastly, Unfinished Music No. 2: Life with the Lions continues this modernist aesthetic, making it her most challenging album in the set. Needless to say, it falls on us listeners to try to distance ourselves from preconceived notions of her complex relationship with the Beatles and traditionally-defined musical beauty. These records are truly challenging pieces, but well worth the listen.
Being the most well-known, Plastic Ono Band is obviously the most complete record of this trio of re-releases. In terms of production techniques and consistence in sound, this album is thematically congruent. Saying that it is “less experimental” would be subjective, however, compared to Ono’s Unfinished series; Plastic Ono Band is downright radio-friendly. Still, her emphasis on screaming, high-pitched vocals give the album an experimental consistency and singular sound. The first track on the album, “Why,” is aptly titled. Throughout its entirety, Ono screams, “why,” processed to a backdrop of grooving drums and bass guitars. The overall sound of the band is captivating, and the audience must listen to the track a number of times to truly understand its idiosyncrasies and complexities. Ono’s simple answer to the first track, “Why Not,” takes on more of a Southern blues feel, with vocal screaming on top of a slide guitar. “Touch Me,” the fifth track on Plastic Ono Band, has a distinctively electronic feel from its onset. It features similar vocal techniques to those showcased in the preceding songs, still utilizing Ono’s characteristic high-pitched scream, which is melismatically and brutally juxtaposed with the metal-infused guitars and drums that permeate throughout the piece. Ono unintelligibly sings until the very end, taking her scream to the album’s culminating moments. The last song, “Paper Shoes,” begins with the sound of a passing train melting into what seems like a rainy day. This sound transforms throughout, and eventually drum and bass are added to the mix, before Ono lets out one last breath.
Ono’s Unfinished Music No. 2: Life with the Lions is a particularly challenging album. Its first track, “Cambridge 1969,” is simply a processed scream, decorated with an ornate sonic backdrop. Ono begins by introducing the track, and letting out a scream that endures throughout the 26-minute track. Synthesizers, high-pitched noises and percussive instruments exacerbate the grittiness of the scream until we slowly begin to overlook its distinctive timbral qualities. “No Bed for Beatle John,” on the other hand, is much different from the first track. It begins with a modal melody set to lyrics that describe a man named “Beatle John,” presumably referencing her infamous husband. It is a third-person observation of their relationship that remains unprocessed, unlike her other tracks. And while background vocals play throughout, they are unintelligible compared to Ono’s lead melody. However, the last song on the album, “Radio Play,” resumes Ono’s tradition of sprawling tracks, measuring out at about 12 minutes in length. It begins with percussive banging, providing what the listener might assume will become some kind of steady rhythm. Yet, like the scream in her opening track, the noise heard at the beginning instead becomes the sonic idea that frames the accompanying instrumental textures. As a result, the piece becomes a truly masterful experiment in electronic processing, and its randomness drives it until its conclusion.
Unfinished Music No. 1: Two Virgins is similar in tone and ambition. The album is obviously unfinished since it consists of merely two, untitled fifteen-minute tracks. “Side One” begins with a recording of Lennon and Ono’s voices laughing joyously together, before delving into a medley of bird sounds. The tonalities of this whistling and chirping eventually blends into a section of guitars and pianos. This interlude gives the listener a brief departure from the randomness, something–if but for a minute–to latch onto. However, the pianos and guitars eventually fade away into the bird calls once again. Then, like in “Cambridge 1969,” Ono’s scream becomes the centerpiece of the track. We learn just how similar human screams and bird sounds can be within the confines of this track.
“Side Two” continues this unique compositional approach, giving Ono another chance to showcase her penchant for screaming. However, low-register sub-synthesizers are also afforded the space to shine, panning between ears throughout. There are more voices that surface–presumably those of Lennon and Ono–evincing the ever-so-popular art of digital sampling. The track continues to flourish, utilizing Ono’s scream as its focal point, but also embellishing this sound with various dynamic instrumentation. In the middle of the track, for instance, Ono’s vocals come to the forefront, but function merely as noise rather than a means to transmit linguistic information. “Side Two” continues to do this throughout its fifteen-minute run time, pushing Ono’s capacity for experimentation to the limits (as well as the audience’s capacity to listen to it). By the end of these three albums, due to her boundary pushing and idiosyncratic voice, the listener will come away with a more eclectic and accepting view of not only electronic music, but music in general.
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