The enduring influence of the Nerk Twins

 By Henry Lipput

Wonderful albums by Caleb Nichols and The Vague Ideas reflect the enduring influence of Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

Ramon, Caleb Nichols

On Ramon (Kill Rock Stars) the names have been changed to protect the broken-hearted as well as those who break hearts. We have Ramon, Jerome, Mr. Mustard, and Captain Custard in a gay love story.

Drawing on both McCartney and Lennon’s lyrical ideas as well as McCartney’s (and his own) history, Nichols creates a gay love story that he has called #QueeringtheBeatles. Nichols is both gay and a Beatles fan; in the Elliot Smith-influenced opener “Listen to the Beatles” he tells of coming home from Middle School, putting on headphones, and listening to the Beatles as a means of escape.

(A side note: At first listen Ramon was something I could identify with, not because I’m a gay Beatles fan, but because my best friend was. He was the first person I knew who not only had bootlegs, but vinyl bootlegs.)

Ramon is not only the album’s title but also the last name Paul McCartney took when The Beatles had their first real gig in 1960 as the backing band for Johnny Gentle on a tour of Scotland. And when you separate the word into Ram and on, it’s a song on Paul and Linda McCartney’s 1971 RAM album. On “Ramon,” Nichols borrows the line “Ramon, give your heart to somebody soon” from RAM’s “Ram On.” Nichol’s take is just as lovely and melancholy as McCartney’s.

The album’s centerpiece is the love story between a Mr. Mustard and Captain Custard. It doesn’t go well and on “Captain Custard” he moves out because his lover is not called Mean Mr. Mustard for nothing. The instrumental “Mustard’s Blues” recalls McCartney’s “Let Me Roll It” and the neatly six-minute “From a Hole in the Road” (or is it a hole in the heart?) with its repeated line “I’ve been dreaming you” and then “I still dream of you” becomes a mantra and a hope that dreams can come true.

Whether the story ends on a positive note is up to the listener but based on the final song on Ramon (and my new favorite Christmas song), “I Fell in Love On Xmas Day,” it appears to be resolved.

By the way, Nichols has just released a two-song EP, Double Mantasy (Kill Rock Stars), with covers of McCartney’s “Waterfalls (featuring Rogue Wave)” and Lennon’s “Watching the Wheels” (listen to this one all the way through for its chilling ending). Here’s the video for “Waterfalls” with John kissing a crying Paul.

New York Letters, The Vague Ideas

New York Letters (Trouserphonic) is a unique idea by US-based musician and writer Mare Rozzelle and set during the period John Lennon lived in New York between 1971 and 1980. Originally conceived as a stage play, Rozzelle asked UK-based songwriter and musician Glenn Prangnell to write the music for songs that took the form of letters and messages both to and from Lennon. Rozelle used the Hunter Davies “The John Lennon Letters,” Cynthia Lennon’s book, and books by John and Yoko’s assistants, as well as the many television shows he was on to gain insight into John’s conversational style.

The songs on New York Letters lift licks and sounds from Lennon’s work during this period. It’s like the songs that Neil Innes wrote for The Rutles but without the jokes (although “Always Good to Hear from You [Letter from Mimi]” is funny with its swipe at Paul and a tune like the “granny music” John detested.)

The album begins with the rocking “NYC (Letter to Julia)” following his primal scream therapy and sounding like an outtake from Walls and Bridges or Milk and Honey. The snarky “Nixon’s Listening (Letter to Tricky Dicky)” is a response to that president’s attempt to throw Lennon out of the country and tap his phone because of John's political activities.

With a sound that fittingly recalls Double Fantasy’s  “I’m Losing You,” “Bread and Jam (Letter to Julian)” has John writing to his young son who lives with his mother across the ocean: “I know you can’t be happy that I’m so far away/But someday soon I’m gonna send for you/And I promise you can come and stay.”

The amazing “Revolution 9”- inspired “Prelude to the Lost Weekend” is Prangnell’s look at Lennon’s state-of-mind as he leaves Yoko and goes to California to drink and hang out with folks like Harry Nilsson, Keith Moon, and Ringo Starr. The Macca-like, bouncy and piano-based “Something’ll Happen (Letter from Paul)” is his hope for a reunion, not of the greatest band in the world, but a friendship (I love the line “Talk about us/We thought it was heaven/Riding the bus in search of B7”).

The last two songs on the album are the saddest as well as the most beautiful. “When You Turn Five (Lullaby for Sean)” is the future that neither of them will see together. And “No More Crying (Message to Paul)” is a love song to McCartney; it’s his version of “Here Today” and even begins with the same chord. “It’s only me, Paul” the lyric goes, a remark that McCartney has said would happen when he and John argued during the Fab times.