A fool enough to ALMOST sing it?

[Slurpee]

Originally Posted by redbreegull

writing credits don't really mean anything I guess. Virtually every Beatles song is credited as Lennon/McCartney, but the two hardly collaborated at all.

That is absolutely not true. Up until the White Album, Lennon & McCartney collaborated on virtually every song in the Beatles catalog. True, one of them would usually come up with the first ideas for a song, but they would then develop the idea together, and most of the songs can be very accurately labeled as co-written. When McCartney wrote "Yesterday" on his own, it was so out of the ordinary that the band and George Martin seriously discussed releasing it as a solo record.

Not to derail the thread, but if you're going to use historical examples you should at least have a vague idea what you're talking about.

[amoergosum]

The Lennon–McCartney (also written Lennon/McCartney) songwriting partnership is one of the best-known and most successful musical collaborations in history. Between 1962 and 1969, the partnership published approximately 180 jointly credited songs, of which the vast majority were recorded by The Beatles and form the bulk of their catalogue.

Unlike many songwriting partnerships that comprise separate lyricist and composer, both John Lennon and Paul McCartney wrote words and music. Sometimes, especially early on, they would collaborate extensively when writing songs, working "eyeball to eyeball". Later, it became more common for one of the two credited authors to write all or most of a song with limited input from the other. However, by an agreement made before The Beatles became famous, Lennon and McCartney agreed to share equal writing credit on songs that either one of them wrote while their partnership lasted.

Source:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lennon%E2%80%93McCartney

[amoergosum]

Inside the Lennon/McCartney Connection >>>

It's supremely odd how history would play the collaboration between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. The result of one of the most intertwined partnerships in music history, their work would consistently be reduced to static roles. It's almost as if, faced with the bound pair, a culture obsessed with individualism found a way to cleave them in two.

Take, for example, the relentless focus on "John" songs versus "Paul" songs—or sections of songs, or single lines—as though that's the skeleton key to the Beatles' inner workings.

Actually, this tradition has an impeccable source: John and Paul themselves. The irony is that the way they came to tell their own story, after their split, may speak less to the way they separated and more to the way that they remained connected.

First, consider the usual take. "Now your songs were co-credited, you know, in the Beatles era," Terry Gross said to Paul in a 2001 interview. "My understanding is, correct me if I'm wrong, that many of the songs were written by one of you or the other, although the other would do some editing on the song, but that few of the songs were actually true collaborations."

"Is that right?" she asked. "Is that accurate?"

In response, Paul gave what has become a kind of official history: In the early days, he said, he and John were constantly in each other's presence, and "everything was co-written; we hardly ever wrote things separate."

Then, after a few years, as we got a bit of success with the Beatles and didn't actually live together or weren't just always on the road together sharing hotel rooms, then we had the luxury of writing things separately. So John would write something like "Nowhere Man," sort of separately in his house outside London, and I would write something like "Yesterday" quite separately on my own, and as you say we would come together and check 'em out against each other. Sometimes we would edit a line of each other's. More often, we'd just sort of say, "Yeah, that's great."

This bit—clear, ordered, and apparently airtight—is typical of McCartney. Lennon delivered basically the same message in a 1970 interview with Jann Wenner and, typical for him, he both far overstated the case and then doubled around to underscore its true ambiguity.

"When did your songwriting partnership with Paul end?" Wenner asked.

"That ended," Lennon jumped in quickly, and then he paused for several seconds. "I don't know, around 1962, or something." He laughed, and it sounds like a nervous laugh, or maybe he was announcing a joke: 1962 is when Paul and John first began laying their compositions down on studio tape for George Martin at EMI."I don't know," Lennon went on. "I mean, if you give me the albums I can tell you exactly who wrote what, you know, and which line. I mean, we sometimes wrote together and sometimes didn't but all our best work—apart from the early days, like 'I Want To Hold Your Hand' we wrote together and things like that—we wrote apart always, you know."

Then he returned to the question and contradicted himself. "We always wrote separately," he said, "but we wrote together because … because we enjoyed it a lot sometimes, and also because they'd say, 'Well, you're going to make an album?' We'd get together and knock off a few songs, you know, just like a job."

John's statement sounds like nonsense: "We always wrote separately but we wrote together." It's impossible to straighten into a literal meaning. But it actually captures the reality of their collaboration quite well.

Sometimes, it's true, songs tumbled out of their creators in whole. It's telling that McCartney seized the two clearest examples—"Yesterday" and "Nowhere Man"—when he described the collaboration to Terry Gross. On waking one morning, Paul sat down and practically transcribed the music for "Yesterday" on piano, using nonsense lyrics at first—"Scrambled egg … ." "Nowhere Man" has a parallel story. After five hours trying to write a song, and failing, John gave up in frustration. "Then," he told Playboy in 1980, " 'Nowhere Man' came, words and music, the whole damn thing as I lay down."

Neither experience was typical. For one thing, even when John and Paul were apart, they were constantly in touch, according to Cynthia Lennon's account of John's process. (She had a firsthand view through mid-1968). John had a studio in their attic and he went there at all odd times. "Then," Cynthia wrote, "there would be phone calls back and forth to Paul, as they played and sang to each other over the phone."

John and Paul also met frequently to work. In 1967, the journalist Hunter Davies sat in on several of those sessions. One priceless account shows the slow, ambling course of discovery on the way toward "A Little Help From My Friends."

They started around 2 p.m. in Paul's workroom, a narrow, rectangular space full of instruments and amps and modern art. The previous afternoon, they'd gotten the tune for the song. Now they were trying to polish the melody and write lyrics. John took up his guitar and Paul banged at the piano. "Each seemed to be in a trance," Davies wrote, "until the other came up with something good, then he would pluck it out of a mass of noises and try it himself."

"Are you afraid when you turn out the light?" John offered.

Paul repeated the line, agreeing it was good. John said they could begin each of the verses with a question. He offered another one. "Do you believe in love at first sight?" "No," he interrupted himself. "It hasn't got the right number of syllables." He tried singing the line breaking it in two between "believe" and "in love."

"How about 'Do you believe in a love at first sight?' " Paul offered. John sang that, and instantly added another line. "Yes I'm certain that it happens all the time." They repeated these three lines over and over again. It was now five o'clock. Some others came by, and as they bantered about, Paul started doodling on the piano before breaking out into "Can't Buy Me Love." John joined in, shouting and laughing. Then they both shouted out "Tequila."

"Remember in Germany?" John said. "We used to shout out everything." They did the song again, with John throwing in words in every pause—"Knickers" and "Duke of Edinburgh" and "Hitler."

"Then, as suddenly as it had started," Davies wrote, "they both went back to the work at hand."

John sang a slight modification of the line they'd agreed on. "What do you see when you turn out the light?" Then he answered the question: "I can't tell you, but I know it's mine." Paul said that would do and wrote the four lines on a piece of exercise paper propped up on the piano. Then they broke for cake.

Had Jann Wenner picked up Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, pointed to the second track, and took Lennon up on his offer to say "exactly who wrote what, you know, and which line," could Lennon have said honestly he had written that day's material? Sure. The only explicit edit of Paul's was the indefinite article "a."

Yet, looking for concrete divisions in their labor, though not irrelevant, can certainly seem myopic. It feels, from Davies' account, as though the two men were bound by a thousand invisible strings.

Davies looked on at the partners before Yoko, before The White Album— "the tension album" Paul said. But tension had always been key to their work. The strings connecting them hardly dissolved, even in the times when the collaboration was adversarial, the kind of exchange that Andre Agassi described when he said that, if he hadn't faced Pete Sampras, he'd have a better record, "but I'd be less." Picking up on that incisive line, Michael Kimmelman wrote in his review of Agassi's book Open that "rivalry … [is] the heart of sports, and, for athletes, no matter how bitter or fierce, something strangely akin to love: two vulnerable protagonists for a time lifted up not despite their differences but because of them."

But even in the hardest times, it's hardly true that John and Paul stopped working together. In what was, ostensibly, the nadir of their partnership in January 1969, their concert on the Apple rooftop shows the two men in profound sympathy. At one point, John forgot a verse to "Don't Let Me Down." He and Paul proceeded in perfect sync as John sang nonsense lyrics, then returned to the top of the verse as if nothing had happened. You can see on the film how John shoots Paul a look of pure boyish glee. Several months later, when John wrote "The Ballad of John and Yoko," he rushed to Paul's doorstep. With George and Ringo out of town, he insisted they go straight to the studio. They cut the song in one long day, John taking the guitars and lead vocal, Paul on bass, drums, piano, maracas—and coming in with breathtaking harmonies.

We typically look back on a broken partnership and assume it suffered from distance and alienation. But as Arthur and Elaine Aron have shown, relationships can suffer just as much from too much closeness and the consequent loss of control or identity. People describing these kinds of relationships use words like suffocating, smothering, overwhelming. They've lost too much of their individual distinction into a shared whole.

There's good reason to believe this happened with John and Paul. To understand why, we need to consider the reality of the early 1970s. Today, with Wikipedia and mountains of Beatles books, we have fantastic detail on the minutiae of their individual contributions. But when they worked together, and when they split, they were, as writers, just as they appeared in their credits: Lennon/McCartney. When John took tea at the Plaza Hotel in the 1970s, the pianist would serenade him with "Yesterday." On a TV show, the band played "Michelle" during a break. "At least I wrote the middle eight on that one," John said.

It was as though the partners had deposited every asset of reputation and identity into a joint bank account. After their split, they stood in line, day after day, to take the maximum withdrawal. Of course, there were literal bank accounts—immense financial and practical complications of their divorce. But what's interesting here is their self-conception—their desperate need to individuate. One of their most common words after the split was me. From Paul's self-questionnaire in April 1970:

Q: Did you enjoy working as a solo?

PAUL: Very much. I only had me to ask for a decision, and I generally agreed with me.

The next year, John told Jann Wenner that his first solo album was the "best thing I've ever done." "Now I wrote all about me and that's why I like it," he said. "It's me! And nobody else. That's why I like it." Paul got to the identity question even more directly in an interview with Life magazine. "It's like there was me, then the Beatles phase, and now I'm me again."

As they gave their history, John and Paul became relentless in dissecting their own work. This formed the bedrock of the history of their collaboration. Asked about the songs, they often used the possessive: "That's John's," Paul would say, or "That's mine." John would do the same. It's telling that two men with notoriously poor memories—neither knew how many times they'd been to Hamburg, for example—left in doubt the authorship of only a single melody in a single song ("In My Life").

Of course, they did make many distinct and identifiable contributions. But with the ferocity of their claims for singular ownership, did they protest too much?

Even their bitterness after the split speaks to connection. After Paul's press release, and his public shot at his ex-partner's exhibitions ("too many people preaching practices"), Lennon wrote a song called "How Do You Sleep" with the lines "Those freaks was right when they said you was dead" and "The only thing you done was Yesterday" and "The sound you make is Muzak to my ears."

This is nasty stuff. But the opposite of intimacy isn't conflict. It's indifference. The relationship between Paul and John had always been a tug of war—and that hardly stopped when they ceased to collaborate directly. Asked what he thought Paul would make of his first solo album, Lennon said, "I think it'll probably scare him into doing something decent, and then he'll scare me into doing something decent, like that."

Predictably, Paul took a mostly sunny air in interviews after the breakup—and he returned to an admiring view of John that would grow over the years. He even thanked his ex-partner for ushering in a new and vital phase of life. "I sort of picked up on his lead," Paul said in 1971. "John had said, 'Look, I don't want to be that anymore. I'm going to be this.' And I thought, 'That's great.' I liked the fact he'd done it, and so I'll do it with my thing. He's given the okay."

With John, the basic ambiguity came through—his loving Paul, and needing to stay separate. On The Mike Douglas Show in 1972, a young man in the audience asked John if "How Do You Sleep" was "vicious." John at first denied it, saying he had just had dinner with Paul who was laughing and smiling. "If I can't have a fight with my best friend," he said, "I don't know who I can have a fight with."

Douglas was just moderating, but it seems he couldn't resist this striking declaration. He turned to Lennon. "Is he your best friend, Paul?"

"I guess in the male sex he," John stammered, "— he was. I don't know about now, because I don't see much of him, you know."

Two years later, John would mix up his tenses when describing Paul in an even more revealing way. It was Thanksgiving night in 1974, when he joined Elton John at a sold-out show at Madison Square Garden.

Lennon wore a black silk shirt, a black jacket, and a necklace that dangled a flower over his chest. He had on his usual "granny" glasses with dark lenses. His thin, brown hair fell down past his shoulders. After storming through "Whatever Gets You Through the Night" and "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds," Lennon came to the microphone to round out the set.

"I'd like to thank Elton and the boys for having me on tonight," he said. "We tried to think of a number to finish off with so I can get out of here and be sick, and we thought we'd do a number of an old, estranged fiance of mine, called Paul. This is one I never sang. It's an old Beatle number and we just about know it."

The song was "I Saw Her Standing There."

Though he lived another six years, John Lennon never took the stage for a major show again. His strange words have a peculiar and lasting echo. By then, Paul and John had been the most famous exes in the world for four years. But somehow, they were still "fiances"—prospective spouses. As much as had passed, the energy between them was always in front of them—always, somehow, in the future.

Source:
http://www.slate.com/articles/life/c...on_part_3.html

[amoergosum]

Originally Posted by redbreegull

writing credits don't really mean anything I guess. Virtually every Beatles song is credited as Lennon/McCartney, but the two hardly collaborated at all. Some bands consider adding instrumental parts as worthy of a writing credit, and others don't consider this as having significantly added to the "writing" of the song

How about doing some research before writing such nonsense?
>>>

Lennon-McCartney: Who Wrote What?

Hit Parader
April 1972

It's common knowledge that Paul composed some songs alone and John composed some alone. The royalties might have be shared, but sometimes not the workload on a particular piece.

To find out how much was written by who -- and even who wrote what -- early in 1972 Hit Parader magazine sat John Lennon down and went over the whole list of Lennon-McCartney material, that rich vein that changed the face of rock music almost overnight, going back to the first days of the Merseyliverpool Sound, up through Beatlemania to Sgt. Pepper and the break up.

Paul McCartney saw the list and came up with one correction. He said that John didn't write the music to "In My Life," just the words. Paul contends he worked out the melody on a mellotron in John's house.

LOVE ME DO: Paul wrote the main structure of this when he was about 16, or even earlier. I think I had something to do with the middle.

PS I LOVE YOU: Paul. But I think we helped him a bit. It was meant to be a Shirelles kind of song.

PLEASE PLEASE ME: I wrote all of this one--I was trying to do a Roy Orbison.

FROM ME TO YOU: Paul and me--we wrote this together in a van.

THANK YOU GIRL: Paul and me. This was just a silly song we knocked off.

SHE LOVES YOU: Both of us. We wrote it together on tour.

MISERY: Both of us. This was mainly mine though, I think.

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW A SECRET? Me. I wrote this for George.

I CALL YOUR NAME: Me. I started it when I was 15 and finished the middle eight years later, around "Help" or "Hard Day's Night" time.

I'LL BE ON MY WAY: Paul. This was early Paul.

BAD TO ME: Me. I wrote it for Billy J. Kramer.

IT WON'T BE LONG: Me. I wrote this on the second album. It was the song with the so-called Aeolian cadences, the same as in the Mahler symphony, at the end. I don't know what the hell it was about.

ALL MY LOVING: Paul. This was one of his first biggies.

LITTLE CHILD: Both of us. This was a knock-off between Paul and me for Ringo.

HOLD ME TIGHT: Both of us, but mainly Paul.

I WANNA BE YOUR MAN: Both of us, but mainly Paul.

I'LL KEEP YOU SATISFIED: Paul. This was for Billy J. Kramer.

LOVE OF THE LOVED: Paul. One of his very early songs, but I think he changed the words later for Cilla.

I'M IN LOVE: Me. I wrote it for the Fourmost.

HELLO LITTLE GIRL: Me. This was another very early song of mine recorded by the Fourmost.

CAN'T BUY ME LOVE: John and Paul, but mainly Paul.

FROM A WINDOW: Paul...must be Paul's. I can't really remember it.

LIKE DREAMERS DO: A very early one of Paul's.

AND I LOVE HER: Both of us. The first half was Paul's and the middle eight is mine.

I'LL BE BACK: Me. A nice tune though the middle is a bit tatty.

WORLD WITHOUT LOVE: Paul. An early one he wrote when he was about 16 or 17. I think he changed the words later for the record by Peter and Garfunkel or something.

ONE AND ONE IS TWO: Paul. That was a terrible one.

I FEEL FINE: Me. This was the first time feedback was used on a record. It's right at the beginning.

SHE'S A WOMAN: Paul. Though I helped with the middle, I think.

NO REPLY: Me. I remember Dick James coming to me after we did this one and saying, "You're getting much better now -- that was a complete story." Apparently before that he thought my songs tended to sort of, wander off.

I'LL FOLLOW THE SUN: Paul. A nice one--one of his early compositions.

EIGHT DAYS A WEEK: Both of us. I think we wrote this when we were trying to write the title song for Help! because there was at one time the thought of calling the film, Eight Arms To Hold You or something. I think that's the story, I'm not sure.

IT'S ONLY LOVE: Me. That's one song I really hate of mine. Terrible lyric.

YESTERDAY: Paul. Wow, that was a good 'un.

DAY TRIPPER: Me. But I think Paul helped with the verse.

WE CAN WORK IT OUT: Paul but the middle was mine.

NORWEIGAN WOOD: Me but Paul helped me on the lyric.

MICHELLE: Both of us. I wrote the middle with him.

WHAT GOES ON: Me. A very early song of mine. Ringo and Paul wrote a new middle eight together when we recorded it.

IN MY LIFE: Me. I think I was trying to write about "Penny Lane" when I wrote it. It was about places I remembered. A nice song. Jose Feleciano did a nice version of it.

RUN FOR YOUR LIFE: Me. Another one I never liked.

PAPERBACK WRITER: Paul. I think I might have helped with some of the lyrics. Yes, I did. But it was mainly Paul's tune.

ELEANOR RIGBY: Both of us. I wrote a good lot of the lyrics, about 70 percent. Ray Charles did a great version of this. Fantastic.

HERE THERE AND EVERYWHERE: Paul. This was a great one of his.

YELLOW SUBMARINE: Both of us. Paul wrote the catchy chorus. I helped with the blunderbuss bit.

SHE SAID, SHE SAID: I wrote it after meeting Peter Fonda who said he knew what it was like to be dead.

GOOD DAY SUNSHINE: Paul. But I think maybe I helped him with some of the lyric.

FOR NO ONE: Paul. Another of his I really liked.

AND YOUR BIRD CAN SING: Me. Another horror.

DR. ROBERT: Me. I think Paul helped with the middle.

GOT TO GET YOU INTO MY LIFE: Paul. I think George and I helped with some of the lyric, I'm not sure.

TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS: Me. This was my first psychedelic song.

PENNY LANE: Paul. I helped him with the lyric.

WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS: Paul. It was Paul's idea. I think I helped with some of the words. In fact, I did. Hunter Davies was there when we did it and mentioned it in the book. "What do you see when you turn out the light, I can't tell you but I know it's mine." That was mine.

LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS: Me. And once again, folks, this was Julian's title. It was nothing to do with LSD. I think Paul helped with the last verse.

GETTING BETTER: Paul. I think I helped with some of the words in the middle.

SHE'S LEAVING HOME: Both of us. Paul had the basic theme. But all those lines like "We sacrificed most of our life...We gave her everything money could buy...Never a thought for ourselves"...Those were the things (Aunt) Mimi used to say. It was easy to write.

BEING FOR THE BENEFIT OF MR. KITE: Me. I got some of the words off an old circus poster. I have it in the billiard room. The story that Henry the Horse meant heroin was rubbish.

WHEN I'M SIXTY FOUR: Paul. I think I helped Paul with some of the words, like "Vera, Chuck and Dave" and "Doing the garden, digging the weeds."

GOOD MORNING, GOOD MORNING: Me. A bit of a gobbledegook one, but nice words.

A DAY IN THE LIFE: Both of us. I wrote the bit up to "woke up fell out of bed" and I think Paul wrote "I'd love to turn you on." I got the idea from a news item in the British Daily Mail about 4000 holes in Blackburn.

BABY YOU'RE A RICH MAN: Both of us. In fact we just stuck two songs together for this one -- same as "A Day In The Life."

I AM THE WALRUS: Me -- I like that one. That was the time when I was putting Hare Krishna and all that down I hadn't taken it up then.

MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR: Paul. I helped with some of the lyric.

HEY JUDE: Paul. That's his best song. It started off as a song about my son Julian because Paul was going to see him. Then he turned it into "Hey Jude." I always thought it was about me and Yoko but he said it was about him and his.

REVOLUTION: Me. I should never have put that in about Chairman Mao. I was just finishing off in the studio when I did that.

BACK IN THE U.S.S.R.: Paul. Maybe I helped a bit, but I don't think so.

HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN: Me. That's another one I like. They all said it was about drugs but it was more about rock and roll than drugs. It's sort of a history of rock and roll. The title came from an American gun magazine. I don't know why people said it was about the needle in heroin. I've only seen somebody do something with a needle once and I don't like to see it at all.

ROCKY RACCOON: Paul. I might have helped with some of the words, I'm not sure.

WHY DON'T WE DO IT IN THE ROAD: Paul -- one of his best.

JULIA: Me. Yoko helped me with this one.

BIRTHDAY: Both of us. We wrote it in the studio.

EVERYBODY'S GOT SOMETHING TO HIDE EXCEPT MY AND MY MONKEY: Me. Fats Domino did a great version of this one.

SEXIE SADIE: Me. That was about the Maharishi.

BECAUSE: Me. This is a terrible arrangement. A bit like Beethoven's Fifth backwards.

ACROSS THE UNIVERSE: Me. One of my best songs. Not one of the best recordings but I like the lyrics.

A list of songs, according to Lennon, written by himself, about which he had no comment:

There's A Place; This Boy; All I've Got To Do; Not A Second Time; You Can't Do That; A Hard Day's Night; I Should Have Known Better; If I Fell; I'm Happy Just To Dance With You; Tell Me Why; Any Time At All; I'll Cry Instead; When I Get Home; I'm A Loser; I Don't Want To Spoil The Party; Ticket To Ride; Yes It Is; Help!; You've Got To Hide Your Love Away; You're Going To Lose That Girl; Nowhere Man; Girl; Rain; I'm Only Sleeping; Strawberry Fields Forever; Dear Prudence; Glass Onion; Bungalow Bill; I'm So Tired; Yer Blues; Cry Baby Cry; Goodnight; The Ballad Of John and Yoko; Come Together; I Want You (She's So Heavy); Mean Mr. Mustard; Polythene Pam; One After 909; Hey Bulldog; Don't Let Me Down; You Know My Name (Look Up The Number); Sun King; Dig A Pony; Dig It.

Songs which Lennon attributed directly to Paul McCartney, again offered with no comment:

I Saw Her Standing There; Tip Of My Tongue; I'll Keep You Satisfied; Nobody I Know; Things We Said Today; Don't Want To See You Again; I'm Down; The Night Before; Another Girl; Tell Me What You See; I've Just Seen A Face; That Means A Lot; You Won't See Me; I'm Looking Through You; Woman; Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band; Fixing A Hole; Lovely Rita; Hello Goodbye; Your Mother Should Know; Fool On The Hill; Step Inside Love; Oo Bla Di; Martha My Dear; Blackbird; I Will; Mother Nature's Son; Helter Skelter; Honey Pie; Lady Madonna; All Together Now; Get Back; Let It Be; Maxwell's Silver Hammer; Oh Darling; You Never Give Me Your Money; She Came In Through The Bathroom Window; Golden Slumbers; Carry That Weight; The End; Her Majesty; Two Of Us; The Long and Winding Road.

Songs attributed jointly to McCartney and himself by Lennon and offered again with no comment.

I'll Get You; I Want To Hold Your Hand; Baby's In Black; Every Little Thing; What You're Doing; Drive My Car; The Word; I've Got A Feeling.

Source:
http://www.beatlefan.net/b208394-len...rote-what.html

[Slurpee]

LOL somebody a little sensitive today?

Unfortunately nothing of what you posted defends your initial comment, which is that "the two hardly collaborated at all." Obviously the truth is, there were two strong songwriters who were constantly collaborating, even if you can clearly attribute one song to one or the other. That thread shows up constantly in what you posted, and I wonder if you even read the sources that you are cutting and pasting here.

[Slurpee]

Originally Posted by amoergosum

Source:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lennon%E2%80%93McCartney

This one in particular supports what I'm saying. Through Sgt. Pepper's they had input in each other's songs; see "A Day in the Life" for the clearest example. It's weird that you think you're defending your point that there was "virtually no collaboration" with articles that discuss significant collaboration.

They certainly collaborated far more than Iha & Corgan, to get back on topic. Probably not even a relevant comparison.

Let's get into Roger Waters and David Gilmore next!

[amoergosum]

Originally Posted by Slurpee

LOL somebody a little sensitive today?

Unfortunately nothing of what you posted defends your initial comment, which is that "the two hardly collaborated at all."

LOL...I guess you didn't pay attention. I (amoergosum) posted the quotes of those
articles in order to underline that they did collaborate a lot.

Redbreegull posted this nonsense>>>

Originally Posted by redbreegull

writing credits don't really mean anything I guess. Virtually every Beatles song is credited as Lennon/McCartney, but the two hardly collaborated at all. Some bands consider adding instrumental parts as worthy of a writing credit, and others don't consider this as having significantly added to the "writing" of the song

[pale_princess]

wtf is with all this lennon/mccartney garbage, it was established long ago that james is the george harrison of sp!

[myosis]

is it surprising that Monte has no reading comprehension?

+ james sings a song the he and billy both worked on. i'd say that's pretty positive. i don't see any passive-agressive statement in that. just because he can't sing very good doesn't mean he's mocking the song or the memory of it.

i bet it's an emotional moment for him. i guess thinking back he probably thinks he has been acting foolish at times.

[Trotskilicious]

Originally Posted by meangreensp

Can Monte write anything grammatically correct? He must have Asperger's Syndrome. Or just be fucking retarded.

don't compliment him by saying he's an aspie

[amoergosum]

"Till Next Tuesday" >>>




Again >>>

[opera de nuit]

let's have a picnic, go see james iha.

[Araneae]

No comment from Billy? I guess he didn't want to cater to anyone's expectations.

[Shallowed]

Originally Posted by pale_princess

wtf is with all this lennon/mccartney garbage, it was established long ago that james is the george harrison of sp!

I know you love James' songs but let's be honest, songwriting-wise he's the Ringo of SP. I wish he was the George.

[Catherine Wheel]

James was more important to SP than Ringo was to the Beatles. Like George he is a competent even above average at times songwriter but he more often played a secondary / supporting role in the band. And like George his own personal style is quite different from the leader of the band.

[pale_princess]

yeah man when i think of george i think of all those things. and also i think of 'something,' which is along the lovey love song lines of james' stuff.

plus james is my fave sp and george was my mom's fave beatle

[rottenugly]

my grandmother saw the beatles in 1964 at maple leaf gardens.

[Shallowed]

Something is my favourite Beatles song, but I like it for the music, not the lyrics.

[rottenugly]

Originally Posted by soniclovenoize

Here's the really weird thing: Nirvana allegedly soundchecked Alone + Easy Target in 1994.

Can you imagine Cobain singing it?

I can and it's wonderful.

I just wish Kurdt lived a few more months or even years.

[Monet LSD]

[ping-ping]

Where'd you find dem pix?

[BlissedandGone2]

Originally Posted by Catherine Wheel

James was more important to SP than Ringo was to the Beatles. Like George he is a competent even above average at times songwriter but he more often played a secondary / supporting role in the band. And like George his own personal style is quite different from the leader of the band.

you've proven you know nothing about ringo, george, james, the beatles, the pumpkins, songwriting, and music in general.

[s0ss]

I could never stand James Iha's singing.

BECAUSE HE CAN'T FUCKING SING.

Seriously. Take some lessons you FUCKING HACK.

It's not even the fact that he sounds like a retarded 13 year old Monte, he can't even sing to a fucking simple 4/4 beat.

There are spots where he just fucking stutters for a whole beat and I can only think he's having a brain aneurysm on stage.

[MustardLies]

Octopus's Garden is an excellent song

[Catherine Wheel]

Originally Posted by BlissedandGone2

you've proven you know nothing about ringo, george, james, the beatles, the pumpkins, songwriting, and music in general.

How was I wrong about this? Aside from being familiar with George's output in the Beatles I've also seen the documentary about him that was done recently and that is a pretty accurate description of what he did in the band. And James mirrors this in a lot of ways.

[Monet LSD]

Originally Posted by ping-ping

Where'd you find dem pix?

Hi,

https://twitter.com/Robinjskim/statu...89255244247042

[Monet LSD]

[ping-ping]

If only I could read Korean. One day they'll have a brain implant for that. Thanks!

[Monet LSD]

[RenewRevive]

james is looking pretty good, looks like he's dropped some weight.