Cities Made of Song, 1984 - Grow Old With Me by John Lennon
"Grow old along with me
Whatever fate decrees
We will see it through
For our love is true"
And so we have our first musical interlude since just before
Castrovalva.
The Fifth Doctor era is book-ended by Cities Made of Song, which I
guess is kind of poetic. I never really intended the gap between these
to get as long as it did; it's just that I got embroiled in a series of
protracted delays, hiatuses, and anxieties that compelled me to crack on
with the TV reviews to the exclusion of everything else.
This album, partly recorded around August 1980, happens to represent
some music from within that gap. A bittersweet sort of accident that
nevertheless feels right, somehow.
Ages ago, long before that constant series of distractions, I dedicated
two different Cities Made of Song posts to the Beatles, specifically
A Hard Day's Night and
A Day in the Life.
These happened to snapshot the band at two of the most triumphant parts
of their careers: the peak of Beatlemania, and their transition to the
studio where they sought out new musical heights. By necessity, we
didn't spend much time on all the drama, pre- or post-breakup, which has
defined much of these musicians' history.
Quite by accident, both of those songs were largely conceptualized by
John Lennon (though Paul McCartney collaborated on both, particularly on
the latter). While George Harrison easily remains my favorite Beatle,
and Paul has had a long and varied career to put any pop artist to
shame, Lennon's life and musical career have always fascinated me. A
mercurial, opinionated, and often controversial figure, he lived his
life from one extreme to another without compromises.
Yoko Ono had an extensive career as a photographer and artist well
before ever meeting Lennon, but as a matter of course, she is best known
for her 12-year relationship with Lennon, a partnership which was
itself quite controversial. Their relationship infamously began as an
affair while both were still married to other people, after a gradual
courtship originally sparked by their shared interest in avant-garde
art. Shortly after recording their first experimental music together,
and marrying in 1969, the two staged their "Bed In" protest for peace in
Amsterdam, earning some notoriety for the stunt, and for the remarks to
the press they soon made a habit of.
Their adversarial relationship with the British press (in particular,
the constant racist and sexist abuse heaped onto Ono) eventually drove
the couple to America, where they settled in New York. Their life there
wasn't any less fraught, including more than one attempt by President
Richard Nixon to have Lennon deported and a "Lost Weekend" where the
pair were separated for eighteen months after Lennon was unfaithful.
After reconciling, Ono and Lennon would have their first child, Sean Ono
Lennon, in 1975, marking the beginning of a 5-year long withdrawal from
the public eye to raise their son. This seems to have been a
constructive period for Lennon in particular, who spent the time working
on himself and enjoying the chance to be a "house-husband" out of the
limelight.
This belated honeymoon period finally drew to a close when Ono and
Lennon returned to the studio in mid-1980 to record a collaboration
together, which was released in November as the electrifying "Double
Fantasy". Sporting a black-and-white photo of the couple kissing, the
album alternated songs by Lennon and Ono, focusing on themes of love,
loss, reconciliation, and new chances. Lennon's
(Just Like) Starting Over was the A-side for the single off of that album (the B-side being Ono's
Kiss, Kiss, Kiss) and reflects his newfound optimism:
"It's time to spread our wings and fly
Don't let another day go by, my love
It'll be just like startin' over."
In the end, Lennon and
Ono would not have the chance to explore this future together, as Lennon
was murdered on 8 December 1980. His death stunned the world, and saw
"Double Fantasy" jump to number one on the album charts in both the US
and UK. Many negative critical reviews of the album found themselves
retracted or supplemented by more glowing ones in the wake of the event.
Lennon's sudden passing left behind a lot of unfinished material,
including a follow-up album between the couple titled "Milk and Honey".
In 1983, Ono resumed work on the project, which was finally released in
January 1984. With a color picture from the same photo shoot as "Double
Fantasy" on the cover, its resemblances to the previous record were more
than superficial, as the format and tone of the music are largely the
same as well.
The chief difference is the markedly more bittersweet tone, particularly
to Ono's songs. Popular perception of Ono's music has been largely
negative for most of her career, but I have to say that her work on both
"Double Fantasy" and "Milk and Honey" is really interesting both
lyrically and compositionally, even if her singing voice isn't the
strongest. It has a frantic, modern sound to it that reminds me a bit of
Talking Heads. It's very different from the surrounding Lennon songs,
but I think they complement each other well, as the albums are supposed
to be a conversation between the two halves of this partnership.
My favorite of hers on this record is
You're the One, the final track, its refrain of "
How could I tell you?"
reflecting that even after all the years they spent together, she feels
she never had the chance to really communicate the depth of her
feelings. She reveals a lot about their relationship when she says:
"In the world's eye
We were Laurel and Hardy
In our minds
We were Heathcliff and Cathy
In a moment of wisdom
We were a wizard and a witch
In a moment of freedom
We were Don Quijote and Sancho
In reality
We were just a boy and a girl
Who never looked back..."
This song is a sort of reply to the one immediately before it, the final Lennon track on the album,
Grow Old With Me.
Like all of Lennon's songs on "Milk and Honey", it's a lo-fi piece,
basically an unfinished demo with nothing more than John's voice, a
piano, and some incomplete verses. It's no less powerful, even in this
threadbare form, as Lennon's command of lyrics and melody still shine
through. Robert Browning's poem "Rabbi Ben Ezra" lent the song its title
and first two lines. There is apparently another literary reference
here, to the Tang dynasty poet Bai Juyi, at the start of the next verse:
"Grow old along with me
The best is yet to be
When our time has come
We will be as one
[...]
"Grow old along with me
Two branches of one tree
Face the setting Sun
When the day is done"
Where
Starting Over becomes bittersweet only in hindsight,
Grow Old With Me
is haunting. Lennon, at 40, would have started to face the prospect of
aging; something he would ultimately never have the chance to do. A
promise to Ono that they would be together even in their advanced age
becomes a missed opportunity, a chance stolen from them.
In Ono's decision to finish and release the album, I see a bit of
defiance, an insistence that their love has not ended, even after their
time together on this earth has run its course, that their love goes on
through their music.
Every life leaves work undone. Songs unfinished. Things left unsaid. Our
lives are constantly unfolding, each chapter written before the ink of
the previous has a chance to dry. One day we'll run out of time, and our
pens will still. It's a tragedy that Lennon died just as he was coming
to terms with his past, changing his ways, and in the words of his old
"Sgt. Pepper's" song, "getting better". But John and Yoko never looked
back, just as
You're the One said. The messy, imperfect romance
between these messy, imperfect people left no room for regrets. But it
did leave behind a musical legacy worth admiring, and a reminder that
love - and art - endure even beyond death.
"God bless our love, God bless our love."
Back to television shortly. Attack of the Cybermen is next.
(Modified from the original posted at Gallifrey Base on 7 May 2024.)
