Wednesday , July 14, 2010
"Getting Back To Where We Once Belonged," by Elizabeth Barker & Laura Jane Faulds

INTRO. "THE VERSUS A" (Laura Jane)
The other night, I was talking to Elizabeth Barker on the telephone. We were talking about John Lennon, Paul McCartney, "dichotomies," and how "John v. Paul" is pretty much "The Ultimate Dichotomy." If you're ever trying to further your understanding of "good vs. bad" or "cool vs. lame," "sex vs. love" or "crazy vs. sane"- you may as well just spare yourself a whole lot of hassle, and examine the polarity in question through the "Lennon v. McCartney" lens. From Hamburg to HELP!, "Helter Skelter" to "How Do You Sleep?"- John and Paul already did most of the work for you.
That night, Barker was talking about how Philip Norman's seminal Lennon biog is called The Life, whereas the upcoming Paul McCartney mondo-bio is entitled A Life. Facetiously, Liz suggested that perhaps "The vs. A" is the most enlightening "John v. Paul"-specific opposition of all. We laughed, bantered, moved on, and later, hung up. Some hours passed, the night fell, I got bored, was alone. I got to thinking about "The vs. A," and, hilariously, reached the surprising conclusion that "The vs. A" actually does say (almost) everything about the "John v. Paul" dichotomy.
Paul McCartney as an individual is not particularly compelling. He's "just a guy." He's adorable and charismatic of course, but Paul's gift is for storytelling above all else. Paul's stories are golden. They are meticulously-crafted, and they are perfect. Paul songs sound like Paul (jaunty; well-rounded), but they're never about Paul. They are objects unto themselves.
John Lennon, on the other hand, is the object. John songs are haunting and disorderly, because John Lennon lived a haunted and disordered life. John songs are explicitly about what it felt like to be John Lennon on the day he wrote it; each one is imbued with the same beguile, neurosis and emotional intensity that makes John Lennon's life story so captivating within itself.
Paul McCartney is a genius because he wrote those songs; John Lennon was a genius because he wrote those songs. Paul McCartney nails it; John Lennon wings it. Paul McCartney was a Beatle, but John Lennon was The Beatles.
Perhaps Elizabeth Barker would beg to differ, but instead, she'll tell you a story...
1. OF PINK CHOCOLATE AND KOALA BEARS (Liz)
It's a story I started telling you many moons ago, actually: about how, when I was five or six, my dad made me a mixtape with "Say, Say, Say" by Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson and a bunch of songs from "Sesame Street" and Disney movies, about how "Say, Say, Say" was maybe my first favorite song, about how I'd watch the video and wish I was Linda so I could sit Indian-style in bed and smilingly play my guitar while Paul and Michael had goofy shaving-brush fights. And about how I ended up getting the 45 and playing the B-side ("Ode To A Koala Bear") over and over on my Strawberry Shortcake record player, and falling deeper in love with Paul than I was with Michael - for a little while anyway - partly because I thought the song was really about koala bears and that was just the most adorable thing I could ever imagine. "Ode To A Koala Bear" was the sweetest thing, and almost in a queasy-making kind of way, like that weird piece of pink chocolate you always end up eating after you've gotten through all the good candy in the Russell Stover's box on Christmas afternoon. Sometimes you spit it out. I didn't spit it out.
So I was in love with Paul and I made my mom take me to see Give My Regards To Broad Street the weekend it opened. I can't remember any of the movie now but I'm sure it was maybe dreadful - I mean, gosh, just look at the soundtrack cover! But I loved Paul like I loved Luke Skywalker, this cute-faced and true-hearted boy I wanted to kiss with and then marry, even though he wasn't really real. He was one of my very first boyfriends, which is just as important as first favorite songs.
2. OF PINK LADY APPLES AND RESENTING THE WEALTHY (Laura Jane)
My favourite thing about the fall is the vast improvement in apple quality, and my favourite thing about my life is that the Beatles are mine.
Maybe I should write about what it felt like when I was fifteen years old and first found John Lennon. Maybe I should quote some of the letters I wrote him that year, when I girlishly convinced myself he could read them beyond the grave (Well, okay: "I'm sitting here and I want to write loudmouth in ballpoint pen on my hand because I am that and I know so were you"- 06.04.01) Or what about the story of how I changed my name to Laura Jane so I could share his same initials? The day I got my Lennon/McCartney tattoos was kind of nice. I came really close to killing myself once, but then "I'm Only Sleeping" saved my life. Perhaps I should tell them, in the plainest Queen's English, exactly why I'm exactly like JL. A vague yet elegant account of The Beatles Book That Never Was? I'm sure there's some way I can relate my history with anorexia to John's.
The particular pride and embarrassment of buying a coffee at Starbucks with Beatles tattoos, as "We Can Work It Out" blares. I'm wearing a Paul McCartney t-shirt. Two days later, I buy a Pink Lady apple at the Hazelton Lanes Whole Foods. Nothing makes me feel sexier than eating an apple while walking down the street, except eating an apple while walking down the street, listening to "Yer Blues" on headphones, and wearing my ratty faux-fur bomber, which looks exactly like the ratty fur overcoat John Lennon wore when the Beatles played their rooftop farewell. Why did he have that cut on his neck, that day? Scrappy.
I finished my apple and threw the core, really hard, whipped it actually, at the foyer window of the snooty Park-Hyatt on Bloor Street. I laughed, and called Paul McCartney a fag in my head.
3. LIES THEY TELL YOU ABOUT THE BEATLES (Liz)
Once when I was little we were watching the video for "Nobody Told Me" and my dad explained John Lennon to me, who he was and how he died. And he told me how John and Paul made great songs together but couldn't make great songs on their own, because John wasn't so good at being a musician and Paul wasn't so good at having a soul. So, I digested that but I still loved Paul the best. I loved John too but I was scared of him; he had too much hair and seemed too smart, that dance he did in his white suit in the middle of the song was cool but creepy. His wife was so weird! "Nobody Told Me" was catchy but it was so dark and foreboding. Like, did he know he was going to die?
Then I turned into a teenager and I started playing my mom's copy of The White Album some days after school, because bands I loved loved The Beatles a lot. My favorite part was "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" through "Rocky Raccoon," especially "Happiness Is A Warm Gun." My brother and sister were babies then and thought it was so funny when the doctor in "Rocky Raccoon" lay down on the table. I thought it was funny too. And then six months before Kurt Cobain died there was this interview in Rolling Stone where he said: "I don't know who wrote what parts of what Beatles songs, but Paul McCartney embarrasses me. Lennon was obviously disturbed [laughs]. So I could relate to that." I decided I, too, was embarrassed by Paul McCartney, who wasn't so good at having a soul. One day my friends and I went to the carnival at Green Hill Park and "A Day In The Life" was playing on the radio and I shut it off before Paul's part and then made fun of him a bunch. At the carnival Naomi threw up after we went on the Octopus.
And then later on, the boyfriends: "The White Album is waaaaaay too long; it should be just one record, there's so much fat." Or: "Hahaha! Paul sounds like such an asshole on 'You Never Give Me Your Money.'" Or: "Oh hey, let's sit around on the phone for eight hours and I'll explain 'Revolution #9' to you because you're a girl and obviously don't know anything about anything." The last one wasn't really a lie - just annoying, in retrospect. But at the time I thought it was cool. At the time I thought they all were cool. Boys are such fucking know-it-alls about stuff like The Beatles and everyone accepts it, but girl know-it-alls get met with this weird mistrust - which is so unfair! It's one of the five most unfair things about my life, and I think about it all the time, seriously.
4. LAURA JANE FAULDS IS THE "GIRL" OF MY DREAMS (Laura Jane)
This past summer, I wrote an article entitled If People Were Beatles Songs, wherein I claimed that, if I were a Beatles song, I'd be "Maxwell's Silver Hammer." That was a really admirable attempt at humility on my end, but it's time to face the music, Laura Jane:
Girl, You're "Girl."
__
"Girl" is the most autobiographical song John Lennon ever wrote.
Unlike Paul McCartney, John Lennon was never an "egomaniac"; instead, John Lennon suffered from a raging "superiority complex." When you're A John, you don't think you're better than everyone else; the word "think" implies speculation. You've met your match and his name is Paul. There's you, there's him, and the rest of it pales.
"Girl" is the story of the girl of John Lennon's dreams. The girl of John Lennon's dreams is John Lennon, only a girl. Not surprisingly, Yoko Ono is "A John."
Suffering from a raging superiority complex can really fuck a girl up. On the one hand: you swagger and you strut. You're snarky and saucy; you're a total smart-ass, and actually kind of smart. You are severely and detrimentally incapable of doing anything except "whatever the fuck you want"; somehow, life allows you to get away with this. Most days, it even congratulates you.
The nasty flipside? The guilt! The grief! "Am I an asshole?" you wonder. "Yes," you see. And how does one compensate? By trying to be more like Paul McCartney. By attempting to cultivate an external sweetness; by claiming that you are "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" on your fashion blog. But give it two days, and you'll get bored of the charade.
When you say I'm looking good, I act as if it's understood. I have a problem with putting down my boyfriends in front of their friends. It makes them feel foolish, I hear. I smoke joints audibly. I'm a lot like John Lennon. I'm cool. And I believe in cool. It does not mean nothing.
5. DRUNKEN NIGHTSWIMMING WITH THE MCCARTNEYS (Liz)
In the spring of 2006, in the middle of the desert, I met two people (a wife and a husband) who are family with Paul McCartney. It was a Thursday night in a crowded dining room, and I sat at a very small white-tableclothed table with the husband and another woman, and we ate roast chicken and drank buckets and buckets of cold white wine. I was 28, and wearing a beautiful lacey black top I wouldn't wear again till many months later, out with a longhaired boy who did shots during dinner and kept a gun in his glove box.
So that night in the desert I fell for the husband, partly because I wanted to run my lovely long fingers through his lovely long hair, but mostly in some little-girl kind of way. Like when you're a kid and your parents are having a grown-up party, and there's some handsome friend who's whiskey-voiced and so movie-star cool, and you want badly to sit by him and be recognized, to be in on all the jokes you don't get yet. Dinner in the desert was like that, and I was shy but the husband wouldn't let me get away with it - he made me tell him which country I wanted to fly away to most, why I'd worn a necklace hung with a giant rhinestone butterfly, what my sun sign was. When I said Capricorn, he told me I was probably the type to never accept a date with a man before knowing every one of his past lives, all the way back to the 15th century. "Exactly!" I said, nodding thoughtfully, wolfing more wine, not really understanding. One of my favorite parts was when I shook my hair out from piled up on top of my head and he leaned in a little and said so slyly, "So the hair comes down, does it?" and I blushed, I'm sure. Really cheeky stuff, but he pulled it off quite gorgeously.
After dinner we went swimming, about five of us from the party, everybody drunk. We were heading out of the dining room and I checked my phone for messages and he held up his hand in this gesture of make-believe exasperation, telling me: "Darling, darling - your boyfriend's at home alone, sitting on the couch, watching the baseball game, eating a donut. Put the phone away." And then I put the phone away.
In the water he brought us a joint and a cigar and we smoked both, my first cigar, not nearly as awful as I'd expected. We stayed up very late. Sometimes they talked about John and Paul, and I tried to look neither wildly impressed nor wildly unimpressed. But I was so impressed! Two Fridays before I'd had the saddest night, fought with somebody because he'd broken my heart, cried in the bathroom at a party. It takes a long time to fix up your heart when it's been smashed so bad like that, but I swear: About 33 percent of the repair work was done that night in a pool of hot water with the crazy giant palm trees going shush shush shush over our heads.
And then seven months later my friends and I were eating French fries and drinking beer and watching seals play in the water in a bar by the ocean on a very grey Malibu day. We played the "What was your most exciting day this year?" game and I said the day I went nightswimming with the man and woman who are in Paul McCartney's family. Then someone asked: "What was the most important thing you did this year?" and I said "Gave up John Lennon and took back Paul McCartney for good!", and it was so true.
6. LET IT BE-LEAVING (Laura Jane)
I can't remember what it felt like not to want to be John Lennon.
I can't remember what it felt like not to feel like I am more like John Lennon than any other single person who's ever lived; I can't remember what it felt like not to feel like anything short of "becoming John Lennon" would count as "total failure."
Finding John Lennon when I was fifteen years old was instrumental to my development as an artist and human being because it made me feel like it was okay to be like this. I have felt like this for ten years. I have felt like this for my entire life. It has never stopped. It will never stop. I am unstoppable.
Reticence, diffidence. He asked me which Beatle I'd be; I said, "I'm a John, but I aspire to be a Paul." Deference, docility. What the fuck? Since the fuck WHEN does Laura JANE aspire to be a PAUL? I was confused. I recovered from an eating disorder, and, for the first time in my life, I felt "sane." Sanity: clearly not John Lennon's strong suit. And apparently not mine, either. I "felt" sane, but I wasn't. It turns out that "Losing My John" was one of the most Lennon-esque things I ever did.
John Lennon is compelling as a cultural figure because he falters, and then picks himself back up. You are gunning for him.
I relate to that. The day I got my John back- I forget everything about it, except: "Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God!" It's smart to have heroes who are flawed- it gives you the opportunity to learn from their mistakes. I have a lot left to do, guys: Let It Begin. I'm going to be John Lennon, okay? Okay.
I'm not confident, I'm terrified, and cockiness is the only effective coping mechanism I've found.
That, and having a seriously solid Paul.
7. SIMPLY HAVING A WONDERFUL CHRISTMASTIME (Liz)
These are some of things that have furthered my reclaiming of Paul McCartney:
-At Elliott Smith's last birthday, when I was serendipitously sitting in the next booth, someone gave him a music box that played "Hey Jude." If you thought about that in the wrong/right mood, you'd probably cry a lot or a little.
-Last Christmas I made "Say, Say, Say" my ringtone. Ever since Michael Jackson died I make sure to wait for the part when his voices comes on before I answer.
-The time I said to a boy in a bar: "'Fuck Paul McCartney'?! Fuck you!", and then he didn't ask for my number.
-My friend Randy and his very good band, who once played "Monkberry Moon Delight" while DJ-ing at a birthday party
-One night I was walking home from seeing the aforementioned very good band, having just come back to L.A. after spending a few days in a town where I felt like a fuck-up freak who desperately needed to start acting her age. I was a little drunk on bad beer, and I had my earbuds in and "Helter Skelter" came on and it was the best medicine. "Everything Is Better With 'Helter Skelter,'" I decided. Then I went home and wrote words about "Helter Skelter" but kept typo-ing it as "Helter Skeletor" - which I think holds a lot of of promise, even if only in the context of t-shirts.
-Parking my car on a real dirty part of Vine Street one Sunday morning, the man on the radio told me the story of "Helter Skelter," about how Paul McCartney wanted to outgun Pete Townshend and write a song a million times louder and meaner than "I Can See For Miles." I get that! I'm always trying to be better than other people, to show up my peers. Often, I take the cake. Often, Paul takes the cake as well.
-For so long I thought "Helter Skelter" was John. It took me a really long time to be able to consistently distinguish between John and Paul's voices in general, and I assumed "Helter Skelter" was John till some point in the not-very-distant past. Working out that "Helter Skelter" is Paul was like the opposite of realizing my mom is Santa Claus, except not entirely: The first question I asked when I found about out Santa Claus was "Do I still get presents?" And my mom confirmed: "You still get presents." Here, I still get presents too. I get the best presents!
-How LAURA LOVES THE BEATLES, especially the "I'm Down" & "Helter Skelter" parts in her dance video, and especially everything else too. It's the best present! It's better than Christmas.
OUTRO. HAPPY X-MAS (WAR IS OVER) (Laura Jane)
But the actual best present is that Liz Barker finally loves Paul McCartney almost as much as I love John Lennon!
A few weeks ago, Barker had insomnia. She woke up in the middle of the night, and scrawled in her notebook, "What if there were more than one Paul McCartney?!?"
What if, Elizabeth Barker. WHAT IF.
Tags: alcohol, apples, boyfriends, boys, Christmas, cockiness, dichotomies, Elizabeth Barker, Girl, Helter Skelter, John Lennon, Kurt Cobain, Laura Jane Faulds, Laura Loves The Beatles, marijuana, Michael Jackson, Paul McCartney, sexism, The Beatles, Whole Foods
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Dude, are we "rock critics"?
By Laura
on September 27, 2009 11:11 PM
OMG I JUST ENTERED THE BIGGEST COMMENT OF MY LIFE AND GOT "Text entered was wrong, please try again" /wrists.
:(
I guess I'll start again...
I'm sorry, i cant. It was too heartbreaking, and that sort of pro-ness can only be done without premeditation. I shall just bullet point. Without bullets.
- Ty LJ for introducing me to the Beatles, several reasons;
- They cheer me up on the days in which i hate boys and love boys and love hating boys.
- They make me feel drug induced without drugs, purely from the love of their whoresome music. (the word whore doesnt actually mean anything, i just like to put words in places they shouldnt be)
- this isnt a reason for a ty, it's just something that makes me sad, nobody here listens to them really, so i have nobody to discuss my new beatle devirgination with, along with the fantasticness of their psychedelic fruberness.
- Here in NZ, our hort research centre have recently developed a cultivar of apple with red flesh. Thinks that throwing an apple would be 100000000x moar fun if it was red. U should look into this.
- Have u heard of spotting the happy green stuff? It's something commonly done here, reasonably dirty concept which isn't anywhere near as scruffy sexy as a joint, however when ur low on bud and only have leftover roaches, its EXTREMELY good at conserving what u have left, which imo can never be a bad thing. Google "spotting knives" and it'll prolly give u an alright answer.
- This ended up being just as long and nowhere near as charismatic as my first comment. /hates self right now.
Newho, have a good one,
Shans xoooooxooxoxoxoxooxoxooooooxxxxxxxxxxoxoxoxo
(text entered wrong just happened again... why do u hate me? :( p.s. use the first comment if it acshly worked lol, kthnxbye)
By Shans on September 27, 2009 11:16 PM
i think mabes we are 'life critics' and 'rock lovers'?
By Liz
on September 27, 2009 11:24 PM
hi, i'm kat and i'm the george harrison of nogoodforme. i'm going to write novels about werewolves in libraries full of books written in ancient greek and then simultaneously conduct a complicated love life. i figure this is just the same as going to india and studying buddhism.
i love you guys!
xo k.
By kat on September 27, 2009 11:32 PM
reading these lovely blogs reminds me again how awesome the beatles are.
i think its time to scroll through iTunes and helter skelter it, don't you?
By Rachael on September 27, 2009 11:32 PM
why not study buddhism in an indian library full of books written in ancient greek while u simulteneously write novels about werewolves and conduct a complicated love life? I believe in u. kgo!
By Shans on September 27, 2009 11:39 PM
It's ALWAYS time to Helter Skelter it.
This is probably as good of a time as any to let the world know that "Helter Skelter" is my cell phone ring.
By Laura
on September 27, 2009 11:39 PM
Thanks Shans! It makes me very happy to know that little I could have turned somebody onto the Beatles. Wow! It makes me VERY happy.
Also yeah fuck yeah totally dude, knife hits are my JAM
By Laura
on September 27, 2009 11:42 PM
LJ: The Beatles, and crochet/t-shirt dresses. It's coming into summer here (as she looks out at the rain), and the dresses are exactly what i need. Ur totally right, what u wear is 10000000x important when getting high, and theres nothing like getting high in a dress u barely feel, on the beach in the full sun.
By Shans on September 27, 2009 11:49 PM
Kat's werewolves-novel= the "Wonderwall Music" of nogoodforme.com
By Laura
on September 28, 2009 12:01 AM
P.S. I love the way u love Flight of the Conchords, anybody that loves a part of NZ as out of it as them must be cool :P
By Shans on September 28, 2009 12:07 AM
i love you, kat! and your werewolves too.
By Liz
on September 28, 2009 12:34 AM
Since the instant I pressed play on my sony walkman housing the Beatles 1969-1970 disc 1 during my 7th grade year of private school, I knew instantly and without a doubt that I had the strongest connection with the shaggy haired guitar player who wrote "Here Comes the Sun". I hail the dvd of the "Concert for George" as one of my top fives, and I plan make a pilgrimage to India in homage to Georgie when I graduate college in a year. And yet while I lust for George and his son Dhani join me both in a heated web of passion, I must express that my sentiments have changed ever since I saw Paul perform at Coachella this year. I couldn't agree more with what Laura so eloquently put, and I have always tended to view paul as the sticky sweet decadence that tops the german chocolate cake; he made the beatles despite the fact that he was not the beatles. Regardless, I suppose i more than underestimated the power of that which is Them. Falling under the spell that Paul bewitched the crowd with, I cower to consider the trance i would be placed under to witness the group as a whole.
After my experience with paul (and the epic force of nature that forever has shifted my loving view of him) I've decided that I must witness John Lennon live at some point in my future lives. It's fantastically convenient to believe in reincarnation, for the very fact that when I croak, I may have the very good luck to be reborn a liverpoolian future Beatles groupie...Or at least have the fortune to see John live...I can only hope it would shift my view of him as the yellow press, mudslinger, carpetbagger, whistle blower that I tend to see him as now (albeit with the utmost respect to him as a member of Them), and captivate my mind in a tornado in the defiant and self absorbed enigma that is John.
By Chelsea on September 28, 2009 2:26 AM
That's so lovely, Chelsea. Thank you so much for bringing more Beatles-love to the table!
I occasionally flirt with the idea of attempting to infiltrate Dhani Harrison's life and seduce him, but I think it would ultimately be kind of perverse and self-destructive on my end. It would be nice if there were past lives. I would also be interested in dating Cary Grant.
By Laura
on September 28, 2009 11:47 AM
hey man, i think you should go for Grant, its about time someone defied the space-time continuum.
By Chelsea on September 28, 2009 12:00 PM
I have to write a compare-and-contrast essay for English, and now I really want to write about Lennon/McCartney. Only it appears you guys have already written such a work.
This was really beautiful.
By Clara the annoying fifteen-year-old on September 28, 2009 4:56 PM
Clara,
You should write about "Getting back To Where we once belonged" by Barker & LJ vs. "A Day in the Life" by John & Paul!
By Laura
on September 28, 2009 7:02 PM
laura jane, i can't tell you how inspirational/talented you are. it's corny but true.
By Rosie on September 28, 2009 9:52 PM
Thank you so much, Rosie! I do what I can, Man
By Laura
on September 28, 2009 11:41 PM
Baller article. You guys should watch Two of Us- it was this really well-researched VH1 movie that came out a couple of years ago, about one day in the life of John and Paul in '76, talking about all their issues and differences. It's SO good- http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Two_of_Us_%282000_television%29
By Kristen on September 29, 2009 10:57 AM