Seems like a long, long time... Ten Years

The first instrument I learned to play was drums. Because Ringo. I've always been a Beatlemaniac.  John was my fave until '68, when he became JohnandYoko. It's not that I disliked Yoko - I disliked that now there seemed to 5 Beatles and it was quickly becoming clear that John was distracted and losing interest in the band. Rubber Soul had hinted at it  but Revolver made it clear - John was no longer the undisputed leader and Paul, my least favorite Fab, was taking the reins. But that's another story. I started noticing and listening intently to Ringo's contributions when Abbey Road appeared and the drums could finally be heard well enough to make out what Ringo was playing. What I heard was amazing. After years of taking him for granted I realized that he was the engine that moved the band's music. Ringo wasn't just keeping the beat - he was choosing his parts carefully, playing exactly what was needed when it was needed. It was a true revelation. I went back to older albums and listened to what he played. The drums weren't recorded as well as on Abbey Road (and the white album to a lesser extent) but his brilliance still shone through. He wasn't flashy and fast like Ginger Baker and Aynsley Dunbar or thunderous like John Bonham - he was just...perfect. And no other drummer played quite like him. I was determined to find out why.

Yeah, I'm talking about The fookin' Fabs again.

I soon discovered that Ringo was left-handed but played a right-handed kit. In a an interview with one of the popular music magazines of the time he revealed that this was chiefly the reason for his quirky fills. I had already decided that I wanted to be a drummer like Ringo and now I had one of the keys to his style. Being a righty I reasoned that if I played a left-handed kit I'd be almost forced to adopt a Ringo-esque style of playing. So I somehow got my hands on a cheap left-handed set (the main difference was the placement of the rack tom), set it up in my bedroom and began playing along to the Let It Be album - I could keep up with the comparatively simple songs. I was 16 when I began teaching myself to play and by 18 I was a pretty competent skinsman.  I never really learned learned how to play like Ringo but I could get by. I began jamming with local aspiring bands. Later I got rid of the lefty kit and started playing the "right" way.

Like Neil said: Leftin' and a-rightin' ain't a crime, you know

"Ten Years" evolved from one of these jam sessions. A now-forgotten guitarist in a now-forgotten group in someone's now-forgotten garage came up with the main riff and everyone joined in behind him. The singer began extemporizing lyrics: " Now that you're one... I gotta find someone..". When the (now-forgotten) bassist suggested the 3 chord turnaround suddenly all of the song's basic elements were present. We fooled around with it over the next few weeks, putting verses together, trying (and failing) to come up with a middle 8 and then the "band" broke up. The song stayed with me and later during the Great Song Explosion of '73 I brought it out. I wrote down what I could remember of the lyrics, added some of my own, organized the verses and boom! another song. It was easy and fun to play and became a staple of our sets for the several years. I was never able to take it seriously and it was always treated as a send-up the smooth r&b love songs that never go out of style. My attitude towards Ten Years is made quite evident by the recording that found its way onto Won Out, but my affection for it is also clear because I included it on my first album.

    It's weird that as many times as we played this song this is the only version on the interwebs

Whenever we'd get together with friends for some casual socializing the guitars would come out and songs would be traded as the instruments were passed around. Pickin' and grinnin' standards like Dylan's "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" and Paul Simon's "America" would be trotted out along with Bonkeenie favorites like "Fall On Me". These fun evenings were not complete without someone strumming the opening chords to "Ten Years".  I would often record these get-togethers in hopes of catching a good take of something or capturing  a passing remark or guitar riff I could turn into a song.

It was at one of these gatherings that the Won Out version of Ten Years was captured. On this particular evening Greg brought a new cassette recorder he's just acquired - we were always upgrading our listening and recording equipment and this one had all the new bells and whistles like a panning feature which allowed us to move the stereo picture on a live recording. With the guests chattering in the background we sat by the recorder and began to play Ten Years. It's pretty clear from the beginning that we're not taking the performance seriously. The guitar playing is sloppy and it's clear that I'm trying (often successfully) to get a laugh out of Greg with my singing. At the end of the first verse a friend wanders by and stops to admire the tape machine. "Boy, this is sharp" he says, then, apparently noticing that we're recording, leans in and say "sorry", causing much laughter. After that we give up any pretense of going for a good performance as the playing and singing become even looser before the performance trails off before the last verse. It's a mess, but it works and remains one of my favorite tracks.

Now, now that you're gone

I've gotta find, gotta find someone who cares

Now, now that you're gone

I've gotta find, gotta find someone who cares

We travelled all around

We soared above the ground

And then you let me down

Oh, ten years went by so fast

I never thought I would last

We travelled all around

Then you let me down

But we soared above the ground

The last verse is omitted on the recording. Yeah, the lyrics are terrible. But that's kinda the point.

                                               

                                                    OKAY NOW EVERYBODY IGLOO! 

Let's talk: After the Beatles broke up Ringo never sounded the same. He was still good but without those great songs to work with he was just another drummer. I doubt anyone could have come up with what he played for The Beatles (except maybe Paul) but he never got to work with anyone that good again. He was the perfect drummer for The Beatles - they brought the best out in him. I guess that's true for all of them (except maybe Paul). Alone they were good, sometimes better than good, but together they were great. Paul was and always will be my least favorite Beatle but there's no denying how great he used to be when he worked with or even near John. It worked the other way around, too. John never came close to what he accomplished in the band when he had to compete with Paul, no matter what kind of revisionist history Yoko tries to promote. Hmmm...on second thought maybe it's Yoko who's my least favorite Beatle.