I find it fascinating that the recent made-for-TV film was done by Disney, considering that Disney was behind a series of "experimental community projects" in the 90s that were somewhat vaguely reminiscent of Camazotz, where the houses were identical and people were closely monitored. In any case, the film adaptation is bolstered by beautiful, psychdelic visual effects that do end up approximating the feel of the original novel to some extent. When I first read this at the age of nine, I found the book absolutely chilling; the fact that places similar to Camazotz exist right here on Earth today (North Korea?) make this a sort of Orwellian fable with a mystical slant; that it was written in the 1950s could even have been a subtle poke against McCarthyist paranoia. Fortunately, the ending is positive, as befits a children's novel, providing one with an appropriate breath of fresh air. Certainly not the be-all-and-end-all of literature, but as a starting point for pre-adolescent children, it is seminal and looking back on it as an adult, I still find it highly enjoyable and timely.

Mere words cannot describe the transcendental viewing experience that is "Monterey Pop", but I'll do my best to try here. Imagine a film of many of the best rock and pop acts of the 1960s performing at or near their peak smack in the middle of 1967's fabled Summer Of Love. Now imagine this concert expertly and emotionally filmed by master documentarian DA Pennebaker, and beautifully remastered 35 years later with crystal-clear sound and video. Now imagine every available surviving outtake from the original '68 film--including the complete Jimi Hendrix and Otis Redding performances (both briefly issued on VHS in the 80s), plus two more hours featuring many acts not featured in the original film--added to the set, most of which is as good or even better than what made the final cut.

"Monterey Pop" should be required viewing--far more than "Woodstock", that's for sure--for anyone interested in what the 60s was really all about. It is more than just an incredible rock festival, the first and still the best of its kind. It is a historical document of the hippie era at its euphoric peak. DA Pennebaker truly earned his credentials here as his camera focuses with incredible grace and sensitivity on each face, be it from audience member or performer. There is one shot during Ravi Shankar's performance where his camera walks down a lengthy aisle and the quasi-religious looks and gypsy-like fashions on the dozens of people he meets along the way is simply breathtaking. That singular mood--which captures a long-lost communal paradise of gentle smiles and laughter, incredibly colorful clothing and painted faces, mind-blowing psychedelic light shows, gods-eye weaves, beads, flowers and of course Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane, The Who, Otis Redding, Country Joe & The Fish, Simon And Garfunkel and many more giving performances more akin to spiritual visions than entertainment--will hypnotize and delight the viewer from beginning to end, and even though there are four hours of entertainment here you will be left wanting more (and usually wishing for a time machine).

With the audience almost as dazzling a sight as the performers, and the light show competing with and complementing the music for one's attention, the film feels like one singular artistic statement which came together like magic, fuelled by the acid-soaked climate of the time. Much interesting historical info is given in the booklet and audio commentaries, although the
real highlight of this re-release are the two extra DVDs featuring all the available outtake footage. Jimi Hendrix and Otis Redding, of course, gave two of the greatest performances of all time at Monterey; nothing need be said of Hendrix's now-iconic US breakthrough, which upped the ante on The Who's stunning set. Much more of The Who's set makes the outtakes disc as well, along with many artists unfortunately cut out of the original film such as The Byrds, Laura Nyro, The Electric Flag, The Blues Project and Buffalo Springfield. The Blues Project give a particularly fine, unexpected performance featuring an inspired flute solo. Other highlights include Big Brother doing "Combination Of The Two" (which crackles with excitement), Simon And Garfunkel dishing out a mesmerizing "Sound Of Silence", Country Joe & The Fish rocking on "Martha Lorraine" (with more classic audience shots), Jefferson Airplane storming their way through "Somebody To Love" (which should have made the official film over "High Flying Bird"), Laura Nyro's dramatic rendition of "Poverty Train", and Crosby and Stills together on stage for the first time while the Springfield do "For What It's Worth".

Films like this need to be preserved and cherished as time capsules of a bygone era that becomes more and more distorted through hazy recollection and warped media images over the years (for starters, not a *single* person in "Monterey Pop" can be seen wearing a tie-dye shirt!). It is my favorite concert film and one of the most enjoyable and even spiritual films I have ever seen, which at times brings a tear to the eye. If you've already seen the original film, the DVD will be "like Easter and Christmas and New Years and your birthday all in one"; if you haven't, and particularly if you are of today's under-21 generation for who the 60s are a distant grandparents' memory, "Monterey Pop" may change your life.

Those who say this record is "underrated" or "uncommercial" seem to have overlooked its triple-platinum sales status or the two top ten hits "Raspberry Beret" (one of his best) and "Pop Life" (which still sounds contemporary today). I suppose compared to "Purple Rain" it was a disappointment but think of it as Prince's "Tusk" after the "Rumours"-esque "Purple Rain"...the artistic high point following the commercial blockbuster.

And artistic high point it is. The sumptuous psychedelia contained within drew references to Hendrix or "Pepper" and this is not entirely untrue--although Prince never loses his pop sensibility, which makes cuts like the ultra-catchy "Paisley Park" so entrancing. The title track, which opens the work in colorful ethnic style, then turns to "Paisley Park" and the slow, layered ballad "Condition Of The Heart". "Raspberry Beret" will have you singing along to its Beatlesque pop hook in no time, and then things get funky (psych/funky, that is) for the superb "Tambourine" (awesome clavinet sound) and "America". The album glides to a finish with the jazzy finesse of "Pop Life", the gospel-ish "Ladder" and the indulgent-but-still-totally-awesome "Temptation", a track that tries to reconcile his lusty and spiritual sides in a haze of Hendrixian guitar work and sax playing. Overall, this is one of his least lewd, most colorful and most sophisticated efforts, although of course being different from "Purple Rain" was a case of "too much, too soon" and he had to come back with the funky "Kiss" a year later. In retrospect, it is one of the two or three finest works in his catalogue, with not a duff track in sight and an overall sound that will make you come back for more. Highly recommended.

A few years ago I wrote a review of "Tusk" for Amazon in which I wished for a remastered 2-disc version much like the one we now have here. The sound quality on both discs is now awesome, we get the full version of "Sara" and a full disc of outtakes, most of which have different arrangements to their finished counterparts. In all, the liner notes, artwork, remastered sound and bonus disc make this a must; however, a few famous Nicks outtakes from the period, most notably "Watchdevil", "Lady From The Mountain" and "Smile At You" are still missing--why not put these on instead of, say, the takes of "Over And Over" and "Think About Me", which are almost exactly like the final versions? Elsewhere, things are more enticing, like the nine-minute "cleaning lady" take of "Sara", the beautiful acoustic version of "Storms", the three working takes of "I Know I'm Not Wrong", the electric "Beautiful Child" (which still works!),

the fuller "Never Make Me Cry" etc. (btw the jazzy, spacey outtake of "Brown Eyes" here is the same as that found in the "Chain" box set). So, other than the usual minor gripes ("Lady From The Mountain", for one, is a stunning song that should have not only made the bonus disc, but the original album itself!), this reissue is a long-awaited must to be purchased ASAP.

This is one of the best rock and roll albums ever. Period. From the irresistable opening beat of "Mambo Sun" (very pioneering and ahead of its time) to the last frenzied saxophone squeals of "Rip-Off", this album screams "masterpiece". Something special happened during the making of this work, a mix of raw, inspired backing tracks and slick but idiosyncratic prouduction touches (namely, Visconti's expert string production and Flo And Eddie's giddily androgynous backing vocals), to make it pure magic from start to finish. Bolan focused his Tolkein-esque world into a postmodern blend of 50s rock and 60s cosmic vision that created the 70s and influenced everyone in England at the time. The tracks are irresistably catchy, so much so that even after thousands of listens the album remains fresh; the tag of "70s Beatles" was given to many artists during the decade but here it seems the most apt. The true spirit of rock'n'roll lies in this work: the intuitiveness, the energy, the *spirit* are all here, wrapped in the fireball of persona that was Marc Bolan.

Of all of his albums, "Electric Warrior" is also the one reissued the most, and this is the best remaster job, slightly better than the import remaster in sound and packaging. There is no excuse not to hear this album, or buy it over again for improved sound; "Mambo Sun", "Cosmic Dancer", "Get It On", "Girl", "Jeepster", "Planet Queen" etc. are all as rip-roaring, rocking and achingly beautiful as they've always been, and capture such a timeless moment in time that there is really nothing to compare it to.

It is difficult for me to praise "Plastic Ono Band" as highly as other reviewers here and elsewhere have, since its release is so emotionally bound for me with the breakup of the 60s that it is at times too painful to bear. I am one of those who take the line "I don't believe in Beatles" very personally, as it must've seemed to the millions in 1970 who were not willing to accept such a bitter pill to swallow. At times the album can seem too one-sidedly bitter and tortured, with only small windows of calm and reflection; at other times it is too melodramatic and self-indulgent (one of the hallmarks of Primal Scream therapy, if you ask me, and "Plastic Ono Band" proves it).

Nonetheless, it's still an awesome and awe-inspiring work. Lennon's vocals, lyrics and melodies are all in top form, and the bathroom-tile anti-production by Phil Spector is a brilliant touch. "Mother", "Love", "Working Class Hero", "Hold On", "Look At Me" and "Remember" are all classics. "I Found Out" and "Well Well Well" are certainly two of the most abrasive rockers in his career, even if not his best. "God" is the main point of contention here--in my humble 'o it should never have been written and recorded, as it makes him seem hopelessly self-involved, although I'm sure that was not the intention. The remaster is good, although as with most of the others in the series I dispute the inclusion of these particular bonus cuts.

That's right--although dismissed by some at the time as "Lennon with some of the fizz gone out of the pop" (a reference to the mellow tone of much of the material), this album has stood the test of time to become his finest post-Beatle statement. At the time he said he considered it better than "Imagine", and I agree: whereas the latter was bogged down by tedious cuts like "I Don't Want To Be A Soldier" (and the earlier, acclaimed "Plastic Ono Band" a bit too bitterly one-sided) , "Mind Games" is solid from start to finish, even if much of the abrasiveness Lennon is famous for in critical circles is largely missing.

Instead, on this effort he sounds content, happy and relaxed, and it's precisely these qualities which make it my favorite. Even the politically-oriented material, like "Bring On The Lucie", bounces joyfully. And then there are the ballads--great, lush, sweeping epics like "Aisumasen", "Out Of The Blue" and the particularly strong "You Are Here", with some of the finest vocals in his career, 60s included. "Intuition" is a fantastic overlooked track with great lyrics. Not to mention the title track, an anthem every bit as strong as "Imagine". Had "Mind Games" been released in 1965, it would have been hailed as a masterpiece; any singer-songwriter in any decade would have been proud of such an effort. It was only the tough context of Lennon's solo career--with everyone constantly expecting another "Revolver", "Pepper" or White Album to issue forth from pop's greatest visionary--which kept the public and critics slightly at bay, although they did welcome it as a partial return to form after the relatively lame "Sometime In New York City". Whatever the case, the remastered version is much clearer and brighter than the original CD, although I agree that the bonus cuts could have been chosen a little more thoughtfully (some good outtakes do exist on the box set). This is a must-purchase and although atypical of Lennon's solo career and (because of its ceaselessly optimistic outlook) not the best representation of his soul-searching personality either, it actually draws strengths from these qualities.

At a half-hour, this is hardly a bargain purchase, but think of it more like an EP of stray--but still connected--thoughts following the brutal "Rust Never Sleeps" era. The first side of the original album is, as most agree here, the superior one, consisisting of several quiet, mystical hippie-folk numbers that
were actually written and recorded in the mid-70s. The melodicism here is Young at his absolute best, and he could've filled the second side with even more great 70s outtakes from the lost "Homegrown" sessions. Instead, he contrasted the
spacey, meditative nature of the first side with all those
down'n'dirty hoedown country-rock songs, full of empty patriotism and praises for the "simple way of life". He was criticized (as usual) at the time for veering so far from his last work into what seemed like Republican babble, but I see this as Young being *very* ironic and singing from a certain character perspective, rather than his actual thoughts at the time--remember that he is contrasting thoughts and images here, especially with those beautiful, wistful sentiments from side one. His actual "Republican" phase, from '83-'85, was vastly misunderstood, did not last long anyway, and he came back to his old self more vengeful than ever on "Freedom" and "Ragged Glory". "Hawks And Doves" seemed to predict the emotional tension that seethed at the core of the country at the start of the 80s, and is perhaps even more relevant today as that gap has grown much, much wider.

One indication of this album's quality are the thoughtful reviews given to it here by its supporters; rarely on Amazon or anywhere else do the meanings of the words become such a forum for intense discussion, analysis and debate than on the Neil Young pages.

Count me in among those who simply never "got" this album. Or, at least, never "got" it like those Mojo critics who voted it in as the greatest album of all time, or the RS panel which put it at #2. It's good, yes, but a magically mystically transcendent and Shakespearian-worthy reflection of the human condition? Hmmm...many of the tracks seem overly-sweetened to these ears, especially "You Still Believe In Me", "I'm Waiting For The Day", "Here Today"...the chamber orchestration applied to "God Only Knows" still works, largely because the melody is so timeless; along with "Wouldn't It Be Nice", the title track and "Caroline No" it's the best thing on the disc. Wilson's lyrics are OK and certainly more sophisticated than anything The Beach Boys and most other pop acts were capable of in the spring of '66, but even the best here ("I Just Wasn't Made For These Times", "Caroline No") are written from an overly-sentimental perspective. Oddly enough, though, I enjoy "Don't Talk" in spite of--or maybe even because--it's a simple romantic ballad (the repetition of the chorus at the end creeps up on me and sends shivers down the spine).

"Pet Sounds" never *truly* grabbed me until I heard the stereo version prepared for the box set, and which is included here. This version brings out the album's delicate arrangements much more, and to me is the only "true" version (I expect a lot of disagreement here, of course). Anyways, I've listened to and pondered its worth dozens and dozens of times, hoping that eventually something would magically "click" and I'd be enlightened, which is how a lot of people have described their coming to love the album. With me, though, it has been more of a gradual appreciation--a lyric here, an instrument there, and especially hearing the stereo version--than a sudden impulse to erect a Brian Wilson shrine in my bedroom. I've heard the "Smile" material on boots and it is the wacky, wildly experimental stuff there which seems more like what I'd expected of "Pet Sounds". Still, I would recommend the album to anyone who hasn't heard it, for it is still an essential work in the history of rock, albeit slightly saccarine and sentimental in places. For heartfelt lyricism and stunning arrangements without dross like "Sloop John B", I'd recommend "Rubber Soul", Robert Wyatt's "Rock Bottom", Joni Mitchell's "Blue" or The Kinks' "Village Green Preservation Society" instead.

This review is not so much a review of the most-discussed rock album ever made, but to try to explain to some clueless reviewers here the extraordinary impact it had on Western culture when first released. Never before or since has a work
so grabbed the consciousness of an entire generation like "Pepper" did in the summer of '67. Although psychedelic music was being made in the year previous to its release, "Pepper" seemed to tie it all together and point to the future. Yes, "Revolver" did that too for its time, and it might track-for-track be the better album, but "Revolver" did not become an institution like its successor did.

It's an understatement to say that "Sgt.Pepper" was "a milestone for 60s music and popular culture". We're talking about an album that changed album packaging and presentation, lyrics,
studio techniques, drug-taking, clothes, hair, philosophies of life and ways of living for untold millions (and if you were already well into the hippie scene, it confirmed and consolidated your best acid trips and then some...quite simply, no-one had heard anything like "A Day In The Life". NO-ONE). The Beatles were temporarily erected to the status of Gods On High by every listener under the age of 30 on the planet (if you think Beatle-worship is intense *now*, you should have been there *then*, when Timothy Leary called them "new laughing messiahs" and played "Sgt.Pepper" during his lectures). Musicologists and professors were dumbfounded by the album's quality and some even insisted that the album was actually made by a group of white-coated scientists in a think-tank (they were obviously out to lunch when "Rubber Soul" and "Revolver" were released). And then, of course, there were the dozens upon dozens of "Pepper" imitations that poured out of the hippie scene in 67/68, many of them quite good. That the album continues to top polls 36 years later when so many other big albums have fallen by the wayside also speaks to its enduring quality and influence.

Put simply, it really doesn't matter what each one of us personally thinks of the record. Its impact then and now far transcends any and all minor gripes about individual songs, or comparisons to other Beatle albums. "Pepper" took the Beatles from incredibly popular teenybop superstars to the realm of legend and myth. Most of us born after the band broke up simply have no idea how the album changed the world, because they grew up in a world already changed by it. Those of us under 35 have no idea how restrictive and unimaginative pop culture was before The Beatles took everything into technicolor. But, as an exercise, just try to imagine the world without "Pepper", or go look up the kind of music, movies and styles that were popular before its release (with a few late '66/'67 releases like "Revolver", "Younger Than Yesterday" and "Are You Experienced?" excluded). If that's not enlightening, I can't help you!