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40th GRAMMYs: Who Won The Big Four Categories?

Bob Dylan wins Album Of The Year and Shawn Colvin scores two sunny wins against these nominees

GRAMMYs/Dec 3, 2014 - 05:06 am

Music's Biggest Night, the 54th Annual GRAMMY Awards, will air live from Staples Center in Los Angeles on Sunday, Feb. 12 at 8 p.m. ET/PT on CBS.

In the weeks leading up to the telecast, we will take a stroll through some of the golden moments in GRAMMY history with the GRAMMY Rewind, highlighting the "big four" categories — Album Of The Year, Record Of The Year, Song Of The Year, and Best New Artist — in 10-year increments before capping off with a look at the last five years. In the process, we'll discuss the winners and the nominees who just missed taking home a GRAMMY, while also shining a light on the artists' careers and the eras in which the recordings were born.

Join us as we take an abbreviated journey through the trajectory of pop music from the 1st Annual GRAMMY Awards in 1959 to this year's 53rd telecast. Today, the GRAMMY Awards celebrates its 40th anniversary.
 

40th Annual GRAMMY Awards
Feb. 25, 1998

Album Of The Year
Winner: Bob Dylan, Time Out Of Mind
Babyface, The Day
Paula Cole, This Fire
Paul McCartney, Flaming Pie
Radiohead, Ok Computer

The venerable Dylan edged out a diverse field in claiming his second Album Of The Year award for Time Out Of Mind, produced by Daniel Lanois. (His first came in 1972 for his participation on The Concert For Bangla Desh.) Dylan's unforgettable performance on the telecast included an encounter with a stage crasher bearing the words "Soy Bomb" on his torso. Smooth R&B songwriter/producer Babyface made the cut with The Day, which featured the touching title track written about the day his then-wife Tracey Edmonds told him she was pregnant with their first child, Brandon. Babyface won back-to-back Producer Of The Year awards in 1995 and 1996. Singer/songwriter Cole, who impressively scored nods in all four General Field categories, was recognized for her sophomore album. Current MusiCares Person of the Year honoree McCartney, who won Album Of The Year 30 years prior with his friends from Liverpool, was cited for Flaming Pie, a stripped-down song cycle inspired by the then-recent GRAMMY-winning The Beatles Anthology. Though Radiohead would lose out in this category, the British alternative rockers won their first GRAMMY for Best Alternative Music Performance.


Record Of The Year
Winner: Shawn Colvin, "Sunny Came Home"
Paula Cole, "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?"
Sheryl Crow, "Everyday Is A Winding Road"
Hanson, "MMMbop"
R. Kelly, "I Believe I Can Fly"

"Sunny Came Home," which depicts the tale of a woman who sets her home ablaze in an attempt to escape her haunting past, was Colvin's highest-charting single (No. 7) on the Billboard Hot 100, and paved the way for her long-standing career. Cole's "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?"— which name-drops the Duke, John Wayne — marked her only charting single in the Top 10. Coming off three GRAMMYs the year prior, Crow was shut out twice in 1997, but would pick up awards in 1998 and 1999. The brother trio Hanson, who literally emerged out of the Middle Of Nowhere, was recognized with the smash "MMMbop," which soared to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. Kelly's inspirational anthem "I Believe I Can Fly" would miss the cut here, but it racked up three GRAMMYs, including Best Rhythm & Blues Song. "I Believe…" just missed the top spot on the Billboard Hot 100, peaking at No. 2.


Song Of The Year
Winner: Shawn Colvin, "Sunny Came Home"
Paula Cole, "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?"
R. Kelly, "I Believe I Can Fly"
No Doubt, "Don't Speak"
LeAnn Rimes And Trisha Yearwood, "How Do I Live"

It was a big year for the South Dakota-born Colvin and "Sunny Came Home," which she penned with John Leventhal. Cole and Kelly also reprised their Record Of The Year nods. "Where Have All The Cowboys Gone?" was written by Cole, whose album showed a lyrical depth similar to contemporaries such as Jewel and Sarah McLachlan. "I Believe I Can Fly," with its elements of R&B and soul, was written, produced and performed by Kelly. Hailing from Anaheim, Calif., No Doubt made the grade with their heartbreaking ballad "Don't Speak," written by vocalist Gwen Stefani and her brother Eric. The alt-ska outfit would win their first GRAMMY five years later. Country teen sensation Rimes, who won Best New Artist in 1996, and Yearwood were each nominated for "How Do I Live," which was penned by Diane Warren. This marked a GRAMMY first, with two artists representing the same song in a category. Rimes' version would chart higher, peaking at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100, but Yearwood's rendition won a GRAMMY for Best Female Country Vocal Performance.


Best New Artist
Winner: Paula Cole
Fiona Apple
Erykah Badu
Hanson
Puff Daddy

Emerging from a genre-rich pool, the Massachusetts-native Cole would not walk away empty-handed in securing the coveted Best New Artist award. Apple, who had been a bad, bad girl throughout 1996, was good enough to get a nomination, and also a win for Best Female Rock Vocal Performance for "Criminal." While R&B/soul songstress Badu would not win for Best New Artist, she won two awards in 1997, including Best R&B Album for her debut Baduizm. Marking the beginning of his empire-to-be, hip-hop all-star Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs, now simply known as Diddy, lost out but would not walk away empty-handed by scoring a GRAMMY for "I'll Be Missing You," a tribute to the fallen Notorious B.I.G. containing samples of the Police's GRAMMY-winning "Every Breath You Take." The brothers Hanson, whose sunny pop sound contrasted with the murky sounds of grunge in the mid-'90s, rounded out the nominees.

Come back to GRAMMY.com on Feb. 2 as we revisit the 45th Annual GRAMMY Awards.

Follow GRAMMY.com for our inside look at GRAMMY news, blogs, photos, videos, and of course nominees. Stay up to the minute with GRAMMY Live. Check out the GRAMMY legacy with GRAMMY Rewind. Explore this year's GRAMMY Fields. Or check out the collaborations at Re:Generation, presented by Hyundai Veloster. And join the conversation at Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube.

 

Woodstock '94 mud covered crowd shot
A slightly less muddy crowd at Woodstock '94

Photo: Getty Images/John Atashian

feature

On This Day In Music: Woodstock '94 Begins In Upstate New York

Held 30 years ago Aug. 12-14, Woodstock '94 featured an eclectic (and muddy) lineup that launched Nine Inch Nails, Green Day and others into the limelight.

GRAMMYs/Aug 12, 2024 - 01:07 pm

Woodstock '94 is no middle child music festival. While not as groundbreaking as Woodstock '69 or as infamous as Woodstock '99, Woodstock '94 boasts a unique legacy that deserves recognition.

Held Aug. 12-14 in the Hudson Valley town of Saugerties, New York, Woodstock '94 was set to commemorate the silver anniversary of the original Woodstock festival in 1969. Nodding to its origins in '69, Woodstock '94 was billed as "2 More Days of Peace and Music" (a third day of the festival was eventually added). 

Woodstock '94 featured a wide range of acts that both reflected the nostalgia of Woodstock '69 and highlighted a myriad of new groups. Original Woodstock performers such as Crosby, Stills & Nash (minus Neil Young) and Santana topped the bill, and now-household names including Green Day and Red Hot Chili Peppers performed some of their earliest festival sets.

Even Bob Dylan, who initially declined an appearance at Woodstock '69 despite living near the festival at the time, had a change of heart and agreed to play at Woodstock '94.

It seemed that everyone wanted to capture a sliver of the magic from the original Woodstock. Although roughly 164,000 tickets were sold, the actual number of attendees exceeded 350,000 (surpassing even Coachella 2024's attendance rates). 

Spirits were high as the festival opened on Friday with dry, sunny skies highlighting performances from Sheryl Crow, Collective Soul, and others. By the weekend, the weather took a turn and transformed the festival grounds at Winston Farm in Saugerties into a giant muddy puddle. Although Woodstock '69 was also rainy and mud-filled, the madness that ensued at Woodstock '94 led it to be dubbed "Mudstock."

As Primus performed "My Name Is Mud" on Saturday, festival-goers seized the opportunity to fling the wet dirt at the band on stage. 

"Once I started singing the words to "My Name Is Mud," all of a sudden huge chunks of sod started flying my way and it was pretty frightening," Primus' lead singer told Billboard 20 years later. "I still have those [speaker] cabinets to this day, and those cabinets still have mud in them."

With high energy from Friday's acts and some mud-induced chaos, attendees were buzzing with anticipation and excitement for the rest of the weekend. The party atmosphere continued throughout day two — and not solely because Blind Melon lead vocalist Shannon Hoon strolled on stage tripping on acid, wearing his girlfriend's dress.

Aerosmith may have been day two headliners, but Nine Inch Nails' 15-song set remains a highlight of Woodstock '94. The band drew the biggest crowd of the festival, and were catapulted into wider mainstream visibility. Taking advantage of the unpredictable weather, then-bassist Danny Lohner pushed lead vocalist Trent Reznor into the mud, prompting Reznor to retaliate. The other members of the band soon joined in on the fun, strutting onto the stage covered in mud. 

Opening with Pretty Hate Machine's "Terrible Lie," NIN turned the massive audience into a giant mosh pit and maintained that high energy until the end of the set. While the band faced technological difficulties onstage, it only seemed to enhance their raw, gritty image.

The set was so celebrated that it is forever memorialized in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, with art installations featuring a life-sized mannequin replica of Reznor singing into the microphone and his keyboard, both covered in mud.

By day three, Woodstock '94 was clearly becoming an iconic music festival that would be discussed for years to come. If Saturday's mud-slinging electric performances weren't enough, the final day of the festival featured performances from Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Bob Dylan, Santana, and others. 

When Green Day — fresh off the success of their third studio album Dookie — took the stage, all hell broke loose. While the band was and continues to be known for their rowdy live sets, their performance at Woodstock '94 remains unmatched. 

By the time Green Day started performing, the fairgrounds had turned into a full-blown mud fight. The band tried to push through the performance and embrace the chaos, but the set came to an abrupt stop when lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong told the crowd, "Everybody say shut the f— up and we’ll stop playing." When the crowd shouted the phrase back, Armstrong said goodbye on behalf of the band, and the rest of the group fled the stage.

By the end of the performance, lead singer Billie Joe Armstrong had lost his pants and the band had to be escorted out of the festival grounds by a helicopter. On their way off the stage, security confused mud-covered bassist Mike Dirnt for a crazed fan and tackled him, leaving him with five fewer teeth than he started the set with. 

"He actually sheared my teeth, and I blew like five teeth. Only one of them died. I fixed the rest of them, but he all sheared up the back of my teeth," Dirnt confessed to The Aquarian in 2013. "It was horrible. But the great thing about it is that I was able to get out of there, and I'd do it again tomorrow if I had to." 

Peter Gabriel closed out the weekend by remaining true to the original mission of the festival, offering fans peace filled with good vibes. Gabriel's music, though deeply contrasting with the hard rock and punk acts that dominated the festival, provided a flawless end to the chaos that had unfolded over the past three days.

While the 1994 installment of Woodstock hasn't basked in the same spotlight as its 1969 and 1999 siblings — the latter of which has been the subject of two documentaries in as many years — it remains far from forgotten.

Woodstock '94 stands as one of the legendary music festivals of all time. Although the rain may have soaked the grounds, turning it into a muddy catastrophe, it also nourished the roots of some of the most iconic musical acts and sent them into the mainstream media. The festival was more than just a series of performances, but rather a unique cultural event.

Latest Music Festival News

Ravyn Lenae

Photo: Xavier Scott Marshall

interview

How Ravyn Lenae Found Comfort In Changing Perspective

"I really wanted to give people a glimpse into my life," Lenae says of her new album, 'Bird’s Eye.' The singer/songwriter discusses taking the right risks, and the song that helped repair her relationship with her father.

GRAMMYs/Aug 8, 2024 - 02:36 pm

With massive crowds and countless critics raving about her debut album, Ravyn Lenae knew what she had to do: completely ignore all of the expectations that led to it.

"I knew in order for me to keep evolving as an artist and a person, there was no choice but to let those boundaries go,"she says from her home in Los Angeles. 

After building up a growing following in Chicago alongside other members of the Zero Fatigue Collective (which includes producer Monte Booker and rapper Smino), Lenae relocated to the West Coast. She made a massive mark on 2022’s Hypnos, which featured a beguiling mix of alt R&B, house and soul alongside Renae’s magnetic vocal presence.

And rather than coast, Lenae dug deeper for the followup, Bird’s Eye (due Aug. 9). Working with frequent Kendrick Lamar collaborator and in-demand producer DJ Dahi, Bird’s Eye flutters across genres and influences — pulling from Fleetwood Mac on one track, drawing in Childish Gambino on another, and adding Jimmy Jam’s bass elsewhere. Indicative of these multifarious influences are two pre-release singles: the retro pop-leaning "Love Me Not" and the soulfully skipping "Love Is Blind." 

Lenae uses that shapeshifting methodology as a way to interrogate the concepts of love and relationships — never content to rest on her laurels, learning how best to grow and adapt. "Making the songs and getting to the bottom of what they meant for me was me kind of retracing my steps a little bit and really acknowledging all these moments in my life, in my childhood, that were pivotal for me and my identity," she says. 

Nearing the release of Bird’s Eye, Lenae spoke with GRAMMY.com about directing the video for "Love Me Not" in Chicago, blending Brazilian music with Prince inflections, and how the album helped her reconnect with her father.

A lot seems to have happened in the two years since 'Hypnos.' On a month-to-month, day-to-day basis, how much do you shift creatively?

It feels like night and day to me, even though it's been a really short amount of time. During this time between Hypnos and this album — the recording and creating process —  a lot unlocked with me. [There was] a lot of personal growth that happened that allows me to approach music in a much freer and kind of impulsive way.

With the last album and that process, I think I did place a lot of parameters around what I had to be, what I had to sound like, what it had to feel like, who I had to connect with. And I kind of just released all of those expectations with this and made music that I wanted to hear.

How easy was it to actually release those boundaries and work more more in the moment?

I knew in order for me to keep evolving as an artist and a person, there was no choice but to let those boundaries go, if I wanted to keep pursuing music in a way that felt honest. And then being able to collaborate with people such as Dahi, who has kind of mastered that in a lot of ways, and learning from him and seeing his process, seeing how easy and natural it is to just fall into what feels right…

I think the longer you're in an industry or you're in something, the more rules you place on [creativity] and the more you overthink it and try to mold it in a way that doesn't feel impactful. As an artist, being around him and him encouraging that type of process, I think that was a lot of it, too.

Dahi's worked with some incredible artists, and clearly in a way that accentuates that artist rather than making it about DJ Dahi. That must have been so perfectly aligned with your openness, to go in and let yourself learn what you wanted to do. They always say if you know too much and plan everything out, you’ll end up stifled creatively.

It's so true. And that's why I describe it as me kind of returning back to that 12-year-old me, that 13-year-old me, before I cared about opinions, what people thought about me and what I was doing, what I was wearing. I think we start off that way, and then the older we get, the more we get so self-conscious and we judge ourselves more harshly than everyone else.

Why do we do that?!

[Laughs.] I think it's just human nature. And then we try to unlearn all of it.

Even just in daily life, it's so hard to not think about what I could have done at any given moment. And when you’re creating music, there are 5 million ways you can create the same idea and you have to just land on that one.

A hundred percent. During this process, we would have a song idea and then three different versions of that song that hit completely different feelings — maybe a more soft rock version of it, maybe a more indie version of it, maybe a more soulful version. Then it was about having to settle into what is "the one" and what feels the best, versus like what's going to chart or what's going to get in the club. Having to release all of that and just really lean into what feels good is what works every time.

That relates even to how the album was announced, with two tracks that almost speak in conversation with one another. Those songs balance such clever hooks with more nuanced conversation about how conflicted and complex love and relationships can be. How did you find that balance between emotional realism and such immediate music?

It was just really feeling empowered and confident in my decision making. And that's something that's developed over time, too. Really listening to my voice and what I want out of music in my career and my rollout, you know?

Listening to that, obviously having people around me who are like-minded in that way like my management and my team. We all kind of empowered each other to lean into those feelings. At no point in this process did anything feel forced or like I was reaching for something.

That’s so interesting. You want your team to feel supportive but you also want to feel empowered to take risks away from that support. And that reminds me of “Love Me Not,” which has some really smart risks. It's that vintage pop feeling, right down to the clap-along beats, and the vocals feel right in your ear. So when you started working on that track, for example, did you always imagine it being that nostalgia, that warmth? 

I thought that there was just something so cool and timeless, a classic feeling about it. And my songs are the ones where you can really pinpoint what the influences are, or when this was made, or the person behind it. Having a song like that, that really reminded me of Outkast. Like, What is this?

Even before it dropped, I remember having some anxiety around maybe my fans not liking it because it feels a little different from Hypnos. I think anytime you kind of jump outside of the bubble you've kind of created, it's scary because there are people living in that bubble with you who like the temperature in there. 

It’s so important to be constantly revitalized in your work. If you’re doing the same thing, even if your fans are demanding it, you’re not going to get that. And hopefully when your fans see all that you can do, they’ll follow it. 

Yeah. And there's so much left in me to explore into and put out into the world. And look at an artist's career, someone like Tyler, the Creator: Seeing where his sound started and how he's almost trained his fans’ ears to be receptive to something new every time. They've completely grown up with him in a lot of ways and expanded their palate. Kind of forcing the hand of listeners is something that's really interesting to me. [Laughs.]

I love that idea of pushing yourself and pushing your fans, but still within the realm of what's good. [Laughs] Not just experimenting for the sake of it. Speaking of growing and experimenting, I wanted to ask about the “Love Me Not” music video that you directed. It feels so well shot but still so intimate and casual.

I knew with the album and how I wanted the imagery to feel, it would be very homey. Making the songs and getting to the bottom of what they meant for me was me kind of retracing my steps a little bit and really acknowledging all these moments in my life, in my childhood, that were pivotal for me and my identity, those first moments where I felt like I was getting closer to myself in a way. 

A lot of that started on the South side of Chicago, at my grandmother's house, in the basement. Even the cover of the album symbolizes that transition for me. That's where I dyed my hair red for the first time in the basement, in the sink, so coming back to the sink and dyeing my hair ginger on the cover was something that felt so powerful and defining for me. It just made perfect sense that we were going to go back to Chicago for the first video, in my grandmother's house, with all my family members involved. Those are my grandparents, my mom, my sisters, so that's why it feels so loose and candid. I really wanted to give people a glimpse into my life and what it felt like walking into my childhood home.

Getting to see a place through someone else’s eyes is so extraordinary. It really makes the little details pop. For example, the plantains cooking on the stove at the beginning.

Yeah. I associate plantains with my grandparents, my family. We’re of Panamanian West Indian descent, so those smells and those sounds, I really wanted to incorporate into the video.

That really speaks to bringing some comfort along with the risk-taking, same as having your family around. The features do a great job of bolstering you, setting up that stability, particularly Ty Dolla $ign on "Dreamgirl."

I think we just had the idea to kind of take the song into a different world in a way. When we first started the first section of the song, I just knew there was magic there. Those Prince drums and that Brazilian guitar — why do those make sense together? It shouldn't ever make sense together. But when I heard it? Oh my god, this feels like something fresh and new, but also like I've felt this feeling before.

Dahi's brain is just incredible, and then even bringing in Jimmy Jam on it to do bass was a dream come true. I knew it kind of felt like it existed in that Janet stratosphere, and I thought it would be such a cool touch for him to do that personally. Dream come true on all spectrums. I love Ty Dolla $ign, obviously grew up listening to him. He's incredible and I was so honored that he wanted to do it.

Besides Janet, were there any particular artists who were kind of central inspirations for this album specifically?

Sonically, Janet is always in the mix. With this one in particular, some Gwen Stefani, No Doubt, a little bit of Fleetwood Mac in there. I just love taking these worlds that are very different from each other and kind of mashing them and seeing what happens. It's like my favorite thing ever.

You’re trained in classical music, and it's so clear that you understand the range of emotion that you can convey. I'm just curious what happened when you went into recording — or even before that, in the writing. What was it like digging into yourself to find the narrative that matched the mashing?

Honestly, I don't think there was much premeditation with the writing and what I wanted to touch on in a way. Really leaning into those impulsive initial first feelings that a song gives me is something I really valued with this album. And moving forward, that'll be my process.

What was premeditated with the writing process with this album was, with every song, trying to really peel back those layers in my brain and those barriers lyrically. Like, What would I naturally say? Think of that and then think, Okay, how can I make this even more literal, even more personal? Even in working with my girl [songwriter] Sarah Aarons, I learned a lot from her as far as songwriting and how to really paint a picture that feels clear and concise and emotional. Not trying to find the prettiest words or the most interesting words, but really writing what feels real. And that's something that I've really, really valued and learned with this process.

Even with “One Wish” with Childish Gambino, the whole album feels like this big conversation on relationships. Being more direct feels like some advice someone would get with a relationship itself, let alone writing about it. Did that process help you actually process what was happening in your life too?

Oh man, 100 percent. And that's why music is so beautiful to me. It's really a means of opening dialogue between me and myself, and then me and the people in my life. With a song that's so important to me like “One Wish," it’s not just because it's a great song, but because this has really catapulted me into this different part of my life and repairing relationships, opening up difficult conversations — like with my father in particular. Hearing such a simple song and the response I've gotten from it has only validated me much more in the fact that these real stories, real emotions are what connects.

Have you played the album for your father?

We started repairing or rekindling our relationship maybe two years ago. The making of Bird’s Eye was at its peak and I felt like it was important for me to have a song on the album that addressed my relationship with him in order for me to release it and start to move on in a positive way.

So sharing the song with him, inviting him to be in the music video was huge for us. And then even after debriefing about maybe some feelings that came up when he heard certain lyrics or when he saw certain scenes in the video, it just opened up this really honest, candid dialogue between us and I couldn't be more grateful that I have this outlet.

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The Beatles in 1964
The Beatles on the set of 'A Hard Day's Night' in 1964

Photo: Archive Photos/Getty Images

list

'A Hard Day's Night' Turns 60: 6 Things You Can Thank The Beatles Film & Soundtrack For

This week in 1964, the Beatles changed the world with their iconic debut film, and its fresh, exuberant soundtrack. If you like music videos, folk-rock and the song "Layla," thank 'A Hard Day's Night.'

GRAMMYs/Jul 10, 2024 - 02:13 pm

Throughout his ongoing Got Back tour, Paul McCartney has reliably opened with "Can't Buy Me Love."

It's not the Beatles' deepest song, nor their most beloved hit — though a hit it was. But its zippy, rollicking exuberance still shines brightly; like the rest of the oldies on his setlist, the 82-year-old launches into it in its original key. For two minutes and change, we're plunged back into 1964 — and all the humor, melody, friendship and fun the Beatles bestowed with A Hard Day's Night.

This week in 1964 — at the zenith of Beatlemania, after their seismic appearance on "The Ed Sullivan Show" — the planet received Richard Lester's silly, surreal and innovative film of that name. Days after, its classic soundtrack dropped — a volley of uber-catchy bangers and philosophical ballads, and the only Beatles LP to solely feature Lennon-McCartney songs.

As with almost everything Beatles, the impact of the film and album have been etched in stone. But considering the breadth of pop culture history in its wake, Fab disciples can always use a reminder. Here are six things that wouldn't be the same without A Hard Day's Night.

All Music Videos, Forever

Right from that starting gun of an opening chord, A Hard Day's Night's camerawork alone — black and white, inspired by French New Wave and British kitchen sink dramas — pioneers everything from British spy thrillers to "The Monkees."

Across the film's 87 minutes, you're viscerally dragged into the action; you tumble through the cityscapes right along with John, Paul, George, and Ringo. Not to mention the entire music video revolution; techniques we think of as stock were brand-new here.

According to Roger Ebert: "Today when we watch TV and see quick cutting, hand-held cameras, interviews conducted on the run with moving targets, quickly intercut snatches of dialogue, music under documentary action and all the other trademarks of the modern style, we are looking at the children of A Hard Day's Night."

Emergent Folk-Rock

George Harrison's 12-string Rickenbacker didn't just lend itself to a jangly undercurrent on the A Hard Day's Night songs; the shots of Harrison playing it galvanized Roger McGuinn to pick up the futuristic instrument — and via the Byrds, give the folk canon a welcome jolt of electricity.

Entire reams of alternative rock, post-punk, power pop, indie rock, and more would follow — and if any of those mean anything to you, partly thank Lester for casting a spotlight on that Rick.

Read more: Living Legends: Roger McGuinn On The History Of The Byrds, His One-Man Show And Editing His Own Wikipedia Page

The Ultimate Love Triangle Jam

From the Byrds' "Triad" to Leonard Cohen's "Famous Blue Raincoat," music history is replete with odes to love triangles.

But none are as desperate, as mannish, as garment-rending, as Derek and the Dominoes' "Layla," where Eric Clapton lays bare his affections for his friend Harrison's wife, Pattie Boyd. Where did Harrison meet her? Why, on the set of A Hard Day's Night, where she was cast as a schoolgirl.

Debates, Debates, Debates

Say, what is that famous, clamorous opening chord of A Hard Day's Night's title track? Turns out YouTube's still trying to suss that one out.

"It is F with a G on top, but you'll have to ask Paul about the bass note to get the proper story," Harrison told an online chat in 2001 — the last year of his life.

A Certain Strain Of Loopy Humor

No wonder Harrison got in with Monty Python later in life: the effortlessly witty lads were born to play these roles — mostly a tumble of non sequiturs, one-liners and daffy retorts. (They were all brought up on the Goons, after all.) When A Hard Day's Night codified their Liverpudlian slant on everything, everyone from the Pythons to Tim and Eric received their blueprint.

The Legitimacy Of The Rock Flick

What did rock 'n' roll contribute to the film canon before the Beatles? A stream of lightweight Elvis flicks? Granted, the Beatles would churn out a few headscratchers in its wake — Magical Mystery Tour, anyone? — but A Hard Day's Night remains a game-changer for guitar boys on screen.

The best part? The Beatles would go on to change the game again, and again, and again, in so many ways. Don't say they didn't warn you — as you revisit the iconic A Hard Day's Night.

Explore The World Of The Beatles

Paul McCartney & Wings
Paul McCartney and Wings in 1974

Photo: Michael Putland/Getty Images

list

Wings Release 'One Hand Clapping': How To Get Into Paul McCartney's Legendary Post-Beatles Band

After 50 years on the shelf, Wings' raw and intimate live-in-the-studio album is finally here. Use it as a springboard to discover Paul McCartney's '70s band's entire catalog — here's a roadmap through it all.

GRAMMYs/Jun 17, 2024 - 05:19 pm

Whether it be "Band on the Run" or "Jet" or "My Love," chances are you've heard a Wings song at least once — in all their polished, '70s-arena-sized glory. More than four decades after they disbanded in 1981, we're getting a helping of raw, uncut Wings.

Last February, Wings' classic 1973 album Band on the Run got the 50th anniversary treatment, with a disc of "underdubbed" remixes, allowing Paul McCartney, spouse and keyboardist Linda McCartney, and guitarist Denny Laine to be heard stripped back, with added clarity.

After a few months to digest that, it was time to reveal a session that, for ages, fans had been clamoring for. On June 14, in came One Hand Clapping, a live-in-the-studio set from August 1974 that captured Wings at the zenith of their powers.

Back then, Wings had the wind in their sails, with a reconstituted lineup Band on the Run at the top of the charts. They opted to plug in at Abbey Road Studios with cameras rolling, and record a live studio album with an attendant documentary. The film wouldn’t come out until a 2010 reissue of Band on the Run; the music’s popped up on bootlegs, but had never been released in full.

That long absence is a shame; while One Hand Clapping is a bit of a historical footnote, it absolutely rips; Giles Martin shining up the mixes certainly helped. Epochal Macca ballads, like "Maybe I'm Amazed" and "Blackbird," are well represented, but when Wings rock out, as on "Jet," "Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five," and "deep cut "Soily," they tear the roof off.

Basically, in range and sequencing, One Hand Clapping shows McCartney prepping Wings like a rocket; soon, it'd rip through the live circuit. If you've never taken a spin through McCartney's post-Fabs discography, though, you may not know where to go from here.

So, for neophytes (or just fans wanting a refresher), here's a framework through which to sift through the Wings discography — with One Hand Clapping still ringing in your ears.

The Essentials

Remember, as you get into Wings: don't cordon off their catalog from McCartney's solo work as a whole. In other words: if you haven't heard masterpieces like 1971's Ram yet, don't go scrounging through Back to the Egg deep cuts yet: check all that stuff out, then return to this list.

That being established: the proper Wings entryway is almost unquestionably Band on the Run. Like Sgt. Pepper's and Abbey Road before it, it's an exhilarating melodic and stylistic rush, a sonic adventure — whether you go for the original or the "underdubbed" version.

In the grand scheme of solo Beatles, Band on the Run is also the one McCartney album that slugs it out with John Lennon's Plastic Ono Band and George Harrison's All Things Must Pass, in terms of artistic realization.

That being said: despite slightly inferior contemporaneous reviews, its follow-up, 1975's Venus and Mars, is almost as good — and if grandiosity isn't your bag, you might actually enjoy it more than Band on the Run. (Think of Harrison following up All Things with the sparser, more spacious Living in the Material World, and you'll get the picture.)

Between those two albums, you've got a wealth of indispensable Macca songs — "Jet," "Let Me Roll It," "Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five," "Rock Show," "You Gave Me the Answer" — as well as satisfying deep cuts, like doomed Wingsman Jimmy McCulloch's "Medicine Jar."

From there, it's time to understand Weird Wings — which rewinds the clock to their beginnings.

The Weirdness

As the McCartney canon goes, Ram's stock seems to shoot up every year, single handedly inspiring new generations of psych-pop weirdos. By comparison, Wings' debut, Wild Life, was critically savaged in 1971, and its reputation isn't much better today.

As you'll learn so often in your solo Macca voyage — you've just got to ignore the critics sometimes. Even McCartney himself said "Bip Bop" "just goes nowhere" and "I cringe every time I hear it." What he leaves out it's a maddening earworm — to hear this loony, circuitous little sketch once is to carry it to your deathbed.

Indeed, Wild Life is full of moments that will stick with you. In the title track, McCartney screams about the zoo like his hair's on fire; "I Am Your Singer" is a swaying dialogue between Paul and Linda; "Dear Friend" is one of McCartney's most moving songs about Lennon.

Wild Life's follow-up, Red Rose Speedway, is a little more candy-coated and commercial — but outside of the polarizing hit "My Love," it has some integral McCartney tunes, like "Little Lamb Dragonfly" and "Single Pigeon."

In the end, though, Wild Life is arguably the early Wings offering that will really stick to your ribs. It's not a crummy follow-up to Ram, but an intriguing off-ramp from its harebrained universe — and as the opening statement from McCartney's post-Beatles vehicle, worth investigating just on that merit.

The Deep Cuts

McCartney has always been a hit-or-miss solo artist by design — digging through the half-written pastiches and questionable experiments is part of the deal.

1976's Wings at the Speed of Sound features a key track in the irrepressibly jaunty "Let 'Em In," and an (in)famous disco-spangled hit in "Silly Love Songs." From there, with tunes like "Cook of the House" and "Warm and Beautiful," your mileage may vary wildly.

The ratio holds for 1978's London Town: you could put the gorgeous "I'm Carrying" on your playlist and scrap the rest, or you can go spelunking. And McCartney being McCartney, despite 1979's Back to the Egg being choppy waters, he nailed it at least once — on the lithe, sophisticated, Stevie Wonder-like "Arrow Through Me."

Today, at 81, McCartney is an 18-time GRAMMY winner and an enormous concert draw — charging through his six-decade catalog in stadiums the world over. These albums only comprise one decade in his history, where he flourished as a mulleted stadium act alongside his keyboarding wife. But his catalog would be so much different if he never got his Wings.

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