RUBBER SOUL

The Beatles - Rubber Soul (1965)

Overall Rating : 11 (That's a LOW eleven, sirs, exactly the opposite of their mental composure)

Best Song : NORWEGIAN WOOD (THE BIRD HAS FLOWN), or YOU WONT SEE ME

So no this isn't the rise and fall of Ziggy death metal, it's a psychedelic pop album by the Beatles. What does that mean? Well, it means it's full of stuff you've heard a bajillion trllion times before, but the critics at Rolling Stone magazine all want you to pretend you've never heard it. It's called alzheimers. Oh, wait, no, it's just ignorant. Ahem, Rubber Soul is, for the Beetles, a very experimental record, even if The Byrds and most everyone else were branching out at this time, similarly. Guess what?! Sitar! Sitar! Sitar! Ray Davies! (Kidding).

I'll be blunt, I'll also be bong, they were. Point is, I can't stand friggin' standard rock songs, no matter how energetic, if all they base it on is that rock shuffle mush, and it's why I particularly dislike Deep Purple, and Drive My Car is just that. Sure, the solo section is neat-o, and the singing isn't bad (although the boys were best suited for the more dreamy stuff, that's where there brilliance shined, and don't you forget it. Yeah, Lennon would later go on to really become a doozy of a grand vocalist, but for now, stick to the mind opening ethereal, boys). That being said, Norwegian Wood is just dreamy. Oh how friggin' epochal was the sitar in the 1960's man? Some days I wish Tony Iommi would've used a sitar instead of an electric guitar, and teamed up with Ozzy to beat Marc Bolan at his own game. Honestly, it's an album of predictable 1960's psychedelic rock. That doesn't stop it from being beautiful at times, or quite entertaining, with the playful You Won't See Me. Mmmm, I love vocal harmonies like this. Still, I can't help but feel as if the songwriting and melodic sense is stuck in "teenage riot hardcore British invasion", and that crap makes me sneeze, hardcore. I'm dreadfully allergic.

I do commend them on reaching for a more lushly organic and "lively" sound, with more acoustic rubs and they take a few more ever-so-precious steps toward the "Wall of Sound". I just wish parts of it didn't bore the Ringo Dingo out of me. You'll be coming for the vocal harmonies, and everything else is drapery and carpets. All rugged and disheveled, if I may say so, cuz. When they drop the heavenly harmony, I say shit! You'll say...oh who cares what you say? You're probably a Beatles fan, you scumbag. Go ahead and praise everything they ever did, just like society wants you to, you brainwashed sheep. Bah! Bahhh! Bahhh! Bleat!

I know this stuff was revelatory and earth-shattering in 1987, but these are the 00's! We're robotechnical cave-dwelling mongoloids! We can't be bribed with such glamours as "technological advance" or "crappy melodies veiled in Indian instrumentation". That's what it was, and I'll bet anyone my freshest goat on it. Maybe I'm being too harsh. I mean, behind the cold, commercial, idiotically optimistic drivel of The Word, you do get a classic, totally British, totally 1960's anthem. Again, it's all in the vocal harmonies, oh and the...sitar...I guess, whatever.

Did I forget to mention how half of this album is jus' boring as ass, while the other half is jus' interesting as hell? Well, that's how it goes. Michelle is sparse, but lush and convincing. It definitely stands as one of their most tasteful inclusions. While What Goes On is... county rock? You're kiddin' me, bub! No, ever'thing is imminently POP with a capital Q, the blab four just drench their pop in a coat of many genres. Nothing at all is utter crap, not a thing. It can be said that it's all fairly solid, and so is my porcelain toilet, but that don't mean I never use it. This is solid stuff, and it don't mean I never listen. The tricky melodies to Girl actually caught me by surprise, and it's really a gem.

The second half of the record is almost entirely dedicated to the notion of frigged folk rock, for your information, but like I said, you're probably a Beatles fan, and therefore useless to me, you mental fodder for the socialist masses. Why can't they be consistent? Why?! Why can't they keep the beauty levels rising? It's like they just gotta screw up good stuff! You Wont See Me is so pretty, but they gotta follow it up with Wait, which is simple and...whatever man. In the final stretch, they drop back to the rote li'l pop love ditties, and that tickies me offy. Don't believe the hype, gals, this is half great, half boring, and in today's world, not the least bit mind-blowing (unless you actually are a robotechnical cave-dwelling mongoloid).

***1/2

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