From the author of the acclaimed Revolution in the Head, Ian MacDonald takes us on a journey through the music of the sixties and seventies. Starting with one of the most important assessments of Bob Dylan to appear in print for many years, these essays range from the psychedelia of the Beatles and the rebellion of the Rolling Stones to the political activism of John Lennon, the 'dark doings' of David Bowie and the spiritual quest of Nick Drake. In the central essay of this collection, The People's Music, MacDonald argues that the emergence of the Beatles in the early sixties changed the world of music for ever, as the power in the industry shifted to the audience.
Combining a close reading of the music with a detailed understanding of the times, this collection confirms Ian MacDonald's reputation as one of Britain's most important music journalists. Enlightening and entertaining, The People's Music is music writing as its best.
Ian McDonald is an excellent writer on music matters, sensible, but open and acute in his criticisms. I loved his 'Revolution in the Head' about the Beatles, and here there are three essays on them, one which delves into the McCartney/Lennon songwriting rivalry and collaboration; one on their psychedelic period, and one on John in America. The pieces collected here are mainly album reviews - but reviews of collected works, so they tend to talk about the musician/band's whole career, and there are some great summaries of groups: Jefferson Airplane: excruciatingly dated; The Supremes – exuded chic and savoir-faire; Pink Floyd - he's puzzled by their popularity, but ' the group played its limited hand expertly.. [with its] glum swathes of electronic sound…[and] disconsolate cheerlessness... the heart music of middle aged, middle England.'
There are a few longer essays on Nick Drake - [his work] 'opens a door to the eternal'; Dylan; Love; Spirit.
Ian MacDonald writes with a certain self-certainty that in some degree can feel comforting, as though we don't have to worry so much about the validity of some of his claims (which, when on an art, here music, naturally remain somewhat nebulous), and on the other hand I feel naturally suspicious towards. Making such definite statements such as the idea that "[Marvin] Gaye, while gifted, was mainly extemporising off the musical initiatives of his collaborators," while perhaps even holding some weight (depending on who you ask), simply seem so assertive that there's no room to step back and question the positions. (But as a music critic I suppose his opinion is the desired product; distinguishing that from 'fact' is important, though.) Or, further, saying that "During the mid-sixties, Simon and Garfunkel served as a Dylan substitute for those not fast enough for the real thing." I kind of have to respect how brazen he is.
I would take further issue with MacDonald's section on Pink Floyd, claiming that "The wonder of it is that the group carried on for almost all of their career without their main songwriter [Syd Barrett]." I would be inclined to agree, but not for the reasons MacDonald proposes - he insists on the notion that this is in spite of Barrett's departure after their second album, A Saucerful Of Secrets, claiming that they "settled into a uniquely stately basic tempo [before] their first crock of album gold, The Dark Side Of The Moon." But I would say that this discounts the special quality of the interim albums, built from a band coming together and trying to make something new after what was essentially the leader left - and so Syd Barrett sort of takes on this totemistic position in the band's collective mind, conscious or not. The Dark Side Of The Moon (1973) isn't magically "their first crock of album gold," as though the eventual result of trial and error, but the mark of a shift whereby they grasp themselves as a band in themselves, distinct from Barrett. And this distinction is what provides the basis (a steady grounding) for their self-reflection, a sort of full-circle moment, with their masterpiece, Wish You Were Here literally about Syd Barrett (who, almost too perfectly, in fact walked in to the studio during the album's production). Animals (1977), coming after, is a product of that Wish You Were Here creative high-point, with there having been no real live touring between them (the so-called 'Wish You Were Here Tour' in North America came before the album was actually released). But there was a growing dominance over the band by Roger Waters (which, historically, only seemed to be organic, considering his love and deep admiration for Syd Barrett, which was palpable in the band's earlier years). And so, The Wall (1979) is the culmination of Roger Waters' ego and growing narcissistic domination of the band, simultaneously firing Richard Wright, suffering from depression as he missed his children, for a supposed lack of effort, while producing a project that is superficially about this same egotistical rockstar, 'Pink': strikingly ironic. This is the development of the 'big four,' which MacDonald refers to as "intrinsically depressive utterances." To claim this to be "profoundly sad and essentially resigned music" is to say nothing about the development of the band's own history, and its effect on their music.
This all being said, that spiel on Pink Floyd is my main disagreement with Ian MacDonald, as well those aforementioned minor worries about writing style. It generally remains an interesting and quite good read.
Highly enjoyable collection of reviews and brief essays by a writer who infused pop music criticism with a lively appreciation of the broader culture. Contains "Wild Mercury," possibly the most insightful thing ever written about Bob Dylan.
A collection of excellent, really, essays each of which amounts to music journalism of a very high standard. (It was MacDonald who wrote the excellent Revolution in the Head (all about The Beatles and their contexts. I didn't read all of RitH because I'm not a Beatles nut, and it is a BIG book).
At much the same time as reading The People's Music I was reading Clinton Heylin's "All the Madmen: Barrett, Bowie, Drake, the Floyd, The Kinks, The Who and the Journey to the Dark Side of English Rock" and the two books go very well together in whatever order you might wish.
MacDonald's writing on Nick Drake seems to me to be particularly astute. I don't think I'm spoiling anything if I add that in 2003 MacDonald committed suicide aged 54.
Old fart music reviews previously published in old fart music magazines. Several months removed, the only parts that stand out are the longish, personal pieces about Dylan, and Nick Drake, and the amusingly bad-tempered thing about Simon and Garfunkel of all things. MacDonald is most known for his slightly overrated Beatles book, Revolution in the Head, and his collected writings here don't stray far from the comfort of late-60s - early '70s canonical rock music, but he occasionally has some astute and interesting things to say about dad rockers who have had far too much said about them already. It's still a mixed bag, though.
Worth reading if only for the essay "Minimalism and the Corporate Age" Steely Dan and Dylan. What a serious and sad loss when Ian MacDonald took his own life. One of the great music critic originals.
Found this book on my favorite Used Music shelf at my favorite New & Used bookstore: Unnameable Books on Vanderbilt Ave in Prospect Heights, BK. Ian MacDonald's byline caught my eye as his 'Revolution In The Head' is my father's bible. I scanned the chapters and read the opening pages before deciding the $7 price was worth several great, outdated essays .
Published in 2003, I am not sure if its a compilation of essays and criticism from elsewhere as none of the chapters are noted as so. I didn't read the entire text, just the selections that interested me most. The first chapter 'Wild Mercury: A Tale of Two Dylans' was full of great commentary on an already overwritten subject. MacDonald does not ever feel tired of Dylan and he writes about him effortlessly with great hindsight. I'll take it as a) I love good music writing and b) love writing about Dylan that stands out from the crowd. Naturally, 'The Psychedelic Beatles: Love and Drugs' was a brilliant chapter. MacDonald writes so beautifully about the band he knows (and loves) so well. I have been reading and writing a lot about LSD culture lately and this chapter was a new perspective on a topic that is rarely covered in mainstream retrospectives: The Beatles and their use of LSD. It isn't a major topic unless you're knee deep in biographies of the Fab Four or of their "solo" lives. He provided wise commentary on the drug as the zeitgeist of the the decade and how The Beatles managed to find it *just* a little bit before everyone else did (see: Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band).
Other good writing on Jimi, Lennon as "America's John," The Stones, and a bit of scathing eye-rolling at Simon & Garfunkel and Jefferson Airplane--the latter a personal favorite of mine. MacDonald writes with a good amount of time between himself and the subjects' heydays. Other good pieces about The Supremes, Steely Dan's *Gaucho*, Chic, Cream, The Beach Boys, Bowie's "Dark Doings," The Band's *Music From Big Pink*, Randy Newman, and more.
A good historical document as compilation/anthology work. Something I've never seen before and will likely see in other places now that I've already found it. The chapters are short and if you're a total nerd for music criticism of the past on the past, this book is for you.
A collection of essays, reviews and other commentary from the pen of Ian MacDonald, the renowned author of Revolution In The Head.
Topped and tailed by substantial essays (on Dylan and Nick Drake), there's a consistent cultural theme that runs through these writings. These are explained in the preface, but also underpinned in the titular essay.
A good, substantive read for, perhaps, the older generation of music lovers.
Great collection of articles about “classic rock”, and one piece on Miles Davis. Unlike so many other writers, MacDonald never forgot that Rock is music, along with lyrics and lifestyle. Perhaps at times he was too intricate with his explications, but that was probably due to his passion for the music of the 1960s, a passion ably communicated to the reader.
A collection of essays on pop music, some more substantial than others. The piece on Nick Drake is brilliant though: an interpretation of the meaning of his songs, as a mixture of English nature worship and Zen Buddhism.
Excellent, insightful, brilliant on the Beatles and the Stones, then I got to the analysis of transcendent mysticism in the songs of Nick Drake, and... Sheesh. Really really good then really really really really bad. Sorry Ian...
read the randy newman essay. and the nick drake essay. his music writing reaches towards the technical and at times, metaphysical (see: nick drake) where a lot of extrapolation on the circumstances of his life occurs. Not a terrible read, just feels a little dated.