So May I Introduce to You
Welcome to the All-New Fractal Hall Journal. My comrade Marcel and I will shortly commence the regular posting of interesting and amusing info-bursts for your edification.
And as the Beatles are my favourite band, it’s a happy coincidence for me that the first official post on the new blog goes up on the 40th anniversary of the release of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. As it turns out, the 40th anniversary of the American release. The UK release was 40 years ago yesterday, as the clock ticked over midnight while I was still drafting this.
Although the album isn’t my favourite by a long shot, its influence is significant, and the technological skill astounding considering the relatively primitive equipment it was recorded on over a period of six or so months from ‘66-’67. We may be able to crap out as many epic orchestrations as we like on half a grand’s worth of laptop these days, but we still can’t seem to equal George Martin’s achievements. I doubt anyone has the patience or ability anymore to build their sound the way they had to in the Sixties.
Before I get too bent out of shape about the way-kids-are-these-days, this evening’s thought for the, er, evening:
The argument regarding whether Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds is based on an innocent dreamscape conceived within a child’s drawing, or whether it’s a simplistic code for acid has been ongoing since the album’s release. Why is it so hard to accept that, either by coincidence, synchronocity or design, it is both? Many artistic works develop their themes and internal connections almost by themselves. I’m sure Alan Moore has mentioned this about Watchmen and Voice of the Fire in interviews (though I don’t recall which ones off-hand), and Stephen King also notes this in On Writing. Regardless, the idea that both interpretations are right, and that despite this people keep arguing about it, may well have been Lennon’s intention.
One again, welcome to the Fractal Hall. We hope you will enjoy the show.
