FEATURE:
Smile Away
Paul and Linda McCartney’s Glorious Ram at Fifty
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THIS is another album anniversary feature…
IN THIS PHOTO: Paul McCartney in Scotland in 1971
where I am a little quick off of the mark. Because a fiftieth anniversary addition of Paul and Linda McCartney’s Ram is being released soon, I wanted to take a closer look at a wonderful album. In their feature, udioscovermusic explain more:
“Paul and Linda McCartney’s classic 1971 album Ram will be released in a 50th anniversary, limited edition half-speed mastered vinyl pressing by UMe on May 14.
The only album to be credited to Paul and Linda as a couple, Ram was recorded over a five-month period from the autumn of 1970 onwards, in the time immediately after the dissolution of The Beatles. The LP was started in sessions in New York but created mainly at the couple’s farm in Scotland, and first released by Apple in May 1971.
The album’s appearance came just over a year after Paul’s solo debut McCartney, and unlike that one-man recording, Ram featured guests such as Denny Seiwell, the drummer who would soon become a co-founding member of Wings. Hugh McCracken and David Spinozza also featured on guitar.
tchfork would later enthuse about the album’s enduring influence by noting that the home-made approach of the record was “inventing an approach to pop music that would eventually become someone else’s indie-pop.” It called Ram “a domestic-bliss album, one of the weirdest, earthiest, and most honest ever made,” while Mojo judged it to be “quintessentially McCartney.” Rolling Stone went on to describe Ram as a “masterpiece” and “a grand psychedelic ramble full of divine melodies.”
The sessions for the album yielded McCartney’s major hit of early 1971, “Another Day,” which was not included on the original release, but was added to the 1993 reissue in the Paul McCartney Collection series. “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” was released as a US single from Ram in August 1971 and reached No.1 on the Billboard Hot 100 a month later; it didn’t become a single in the UK, where “Back Seat Of My Car” came out as a 45 instead. “Eat At Home” was subsequently a single in other parts of Europe.
It is amazing to think that there was animosity towards Paul McCartney’s albums in the early years of the 1970s. I guess many blamed him for breaking up The Beatles, so no matter what he put out in the world, people would attack it! His McCartney debut of 1970 is a phenomenal record that divided critics. Ram followed a year later - many consider it to be his finest album outside of The Beatles and Wings. With his wife, Linda, Paul McCartney created this album that matched some of his best work with The Beatles. I would encourage people to pre-order the new edition of Ram (which comes out on 14th May). I am baffled people were not seeing the genius of the album back in 1971. Even though most of the mixed or negative reviews came back in 1971, there have been reviews since that have been a little harsh. Ultimate Classic Rock took a glowing look at the album in their feature of 2016:
“An overlooked precursor to the current handmade-pop phenomenon, Paul McCartney's Ram was initially criticized for everything that makes it sound unexpectedly bold, fascinatingly unedited and utterly misjudged today.
The album, released on May 17, 1971, moves with a guileless joy from the country-blues parody of "3 Legs" to the plucky reverie of "Ram On," from the burping rockabilly riffs of "Smile Away" to the comfy domesticity of "Heart of the Country." Imperfect but so very interesting, Ram is just as apt to indulge in the convoluted escapism of "Long Haired Lady," as it is in the jokey doom's-day howl of "Monkberry Moon Delight," as it is in the Buddy Holly-inspired sexual innuendo of "Eat at Home."
That said, for all of McCartney's furious creativity, the loss of longtime writing partner John Lennon — not to mention Beatles producer George Martin — can be keenly felt at times.
"Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey," for instance, always seemed to miniaturize everything McCartney once strove for with Abbey Road, feeling more calculatedly twee than truly inspired, despite its episodic construction. Ultimately, no matter how many copies it sold as a single, this is Ram's most obvious indulgence. The principal weakness that Paul McCartney has always had, the one that the Beatles at their best seemed to so deftly obscure, is fully exposed: He's so well aware of his own charm.
Worse still: How Ram is hampered, even now, by the long-forgotten sniping then engulfing McCartney and Lennon — from the haughty sermonizing of the opening track "Too Many People" to the rather silly conceit that his photographer wife was somehow stepping in for John Lennon as collaborator, from the unselfconscious contempt of "Dear Boy" (which Lennon felt was about him) to the utterly unsubtle cover image of two beetles copulating.
At the time, for some reason, both of these former bandmates were making a habit of fighting their battles through the medium of music, and the albums were poorer for it. (As delicious as Lennon's "How Do You Sleep?" might have seemed at the time, for instance, it really didn't jibe with the utopian sentiment of the title track from the same album, you know?)
McCartney is, at this point, still bursting with post-Beatles ideas — and it gives this album a dizzying momentum. Even his stand-alone non-album efforts from the period, collected on subsequent reissues, end up as interesting asides. "Another Day" is like a lesser "Penny Lane." "Oh Woman, Oh Why" has always been blessedly, truly weird, with McCartney staring down the barrel of a pissed-off lady's gun.
The most intriguing moment might just be "The Back Seat of My Car," his soaringly constructed, yet desperately sad closing track on Ram.
In keeping with the rest of this project, the song is a little unfocused — too overstuffed with ideas, too reliant on multi-tracked McCartneys, not as rustic as his solo debut but somehow tossed-off sounding anyway – and simply too long. But yet it still perfectly encapsulates everything that makes Ram such a wildly inventive gem: It's gutsy and unprecious at one point and then a testament to McCartney's enduring pop sensibilities at others. As McCartney bolts from '50s-era rock to cocktail-lounge crooning to swooning violins, and back again — all inside of this one final tune, mind you — there is a sense of limitless possibility.
Neatly foreshadowing the quirky allure of today's homespun singer-songwriter projects, Ram certainly would have benefited from having someone else to bounce ideas off of, but its essential pop magnetism — its compulsively listenability — simply can't be denied”.
I am going to finish off with, as I do, a couple of positive reviews. Ram On, Uncle Albert / Admiral Halsey and The Back Seat of My Car are McCartney classics. I love Linda McCartney’s backing vocals and her co-lead vocal on Long Haired Lady. The whole album is a real treat and, whilst Paul McCartney has released some sensational albums since 1971, I think that Ram is his best album outside of The Beatles and Wings. It is one of those albums that still sound remarkable and highlights keep forming. There are so many layers revealed the more you listen. In their review, this is what AllMusic wrote:
“After the breakup, Beatles fans expected major statements from the three chief songwriters in the Fab Four. John and George fulfilled those expectations -- Lennon with his lacerating, confessional John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band, Harrison with his triple-LP All Things Must Pass -- but Paul McCartney certainly didn't, turning toward the modest charms of McCartney, and then crediting his wife Linda as a full-fledged collaborator on its 1971 follow-up, Ram. Where McCartney was homemade, sounding deliberately ragged in parts, Ram had a fuller production yet retained that ramshackle feel, sounding as if it were recorded in a shack out back, not far from the farm where the cover photo of Paul holding the ram by the horns was taken. It's filled with songs that feel tossed off, filled with songs that are cheerfully, incessantly melodic; it turns the monumental symphonic sweep of Abbey Road into a cheeky slice of whimsy on the two-part suite "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey."
All this made Ram an object of scorn and derision upon its release (and for years afterward, in fact), but in retrospect it looks like nothing so much as the first indie pop album, a record that celebrates small pleasures with big melodies, a record that's guileless and unembarrassed to be cutesy. But McCartney never was quite the sap of his reputation, and even here, on possibly his most precious record, there's some ripping rock & roll in the mock-apocalyptic goof "Monkberry Moon Delight," the joyfully noisy "Smile Away," where his feet can be smelled a mile away, and "Eat at Home," a rollicking, winking sex song. All three of these are songs filled with good humor, and their foundation in old-time rock & roll makes it easy to overlook how inventive these productions are, but on the more obviously tuneful and gentle numbers -- the ones that are more quintessentially McCartney-esque -- it's plain to see how imaginative and gorgeous the arrangements are, especially on the sad, soaring finale, "Back Seat of My Car," but even on its humble opposite, the sweet "Heart of the Country." These songs may not be self-styled major statements, but they are endearing and enduring, as is Ram itself, which seems like a more unique, exquisite pleasure with each passing year”.,
I am looking forwards to the half-speed mastered version of Ram arriving in May. A few remarkable albums turn fifty this year, but I think that Ram is one of the finest and most interesting of them all. It is Paul and Linda McCartney at their harmonious and inspired best. Whereas McCartney arrived very soon after The Beatles’ break-up and one can feel a sense of anxiety, there is a different sound and mood on Ram.
IN THIS PHOTO: Paul and Linda McCartney in 1971/PHOTO CREDIT: Hulton Archive/Getty Images
Ram was reissued back in 2012. I want to bring in portions of Pitchfork’s review of that album. They had a lot of love to offer one of the best albums of the 1970s:
“The joy of paying close attention to Ram is gradually discovering that Paul was humming darker things under his breath than it seemed. "Smile Away", for instance, is a messy, romping slab of Buddy Holly rock. Paul makes a joke about his stinky feet. The chorus goes "Smile away, smile away, smile away, smile away, smile away." But it's not just "smile," a brief, cost-free act that can last a second. It's "Smile Away", keeping a fixed grin as conversation grows unpleasant. In interviews of the period, Paul was asked repeatedly if he felt lost without his collaborating partner, if he was motivated solely by commercial success, how he felt about being "the cute Beatle." The backing vocal chant behind "Smile Away" goes, by turns, "Don't know how to do that" and "Learning how to do that." "Smile away horribly, now," Paul slurs over the song's fadeout. Yes, he's fine. No, he and Linda will not become the next "John and Yoko." But thanks so much for asking. If you tell a dog it's a brainless fleabag with the same tone of voice you use to say "Good boy," it will still wag its tail.
The album is riddled with dark grace notes like this: "Monkberry Moon Delight" has an absolutely unhinged vocal take, Paul gulping and sobbing right next to your inner ear. The imagery is surrealist, but anything but whimsical: "When a rattle of rats had awoken/ The sinews, the nerves, and the veins," he bellows. It could be a latter-day Tom Waits performance. "Too Many People" opens with Paul warbling "piece of cake," but the lyrics themselves wag their finger at societal injustices, former bandmates-- basically everybody. The lyrics to "3 Legs" are full of hobbling animals with missing limbs.
The almost-title song "Ram On", could serve as the album's redeeming spirit: A haunting, indelible little tune drifts past on ukulele as Paul croons, "Ram on, give your heart to somebody/ Soon, right away." The title is a play on his old stage name "Paul Ramon," which makes the song a private little prayer; a mirror image, perhaps, to John Lennon's "Hold On". The song is reprised, late in the record, functioning like a calming breeze. "I want a horse, I want a sheep/ Want to get me a good night's sleep," Paul jauntily sings on "Heart of the Country", a city boy's vision of the country if ever there was one, and another clue to the record's mindstate. For Paul, the country isn't just a place where crops grow; it's "a place where holy people grow." Now that American cities everywhere are having their Great Pastoral Moment, full of artisans churning goat's-milk yogurt and canning their own jams, Ram feels like particularly ripe fruit”.
Fifty years after the release of the magnificent Ram and we still have Paul McCartney making incredible music and keeping busy (Linda sadly died in 1998). If you can afford the vinyl for the anniversary release then it is well worth the money. Just one spin of Ram and one is truly…
BEGUILLED and amazed.