Staff Picks: Solo John Lennon

Welcome to the first edition of our new weekly recurrence in which we REBEATers choose our favorite songs, albums, movies, books and more! In celebration of John Lennon’s birthday today, here are our favorite post-Beatles Lennon tunes.

1) “Cold Turkey” (1969)

Picked by: James Ryan

Why “Cold Turkey”? It may not have the melodic construction, evocation of popular support, or out-and-out likability of anything else on this list. And I’ll be the first to admit, it’s what professionals would call a “difficult sell,” a piece that isn’t likely to endear itself to most users. It’s moreso the process that put it on this list. It delves into experiencing raw pain and fear in so personal and deep a manner that you become a witness to it as it unfolds. It’s hard not to feel like you’re holding his hand as he suffers; very few artists ever give themselves over so fully to their audience as he or she shares their vulnerabilities with them.

It was also Lennon’s first solo credit, having placed on “Give Peace a Chance” a Lennon/McCartney credit that would stay on it throughout his life. To make this his first serious post-Beatles release showed faith in the song that other artists may not have ever shown.

There’s also the wider context in which Lennon wrapped the song.  By tying chart performance of the single to his returning his MBE and throwing Vietnam and Biafra into the mix as well, he suggests a future where artists do outlandish acts of self-promotion and tie them to social and political causes. In many ways, through this, he provides a road map to the punk movement, and one could argue that by joining a song with a cause, he becomes godfather to other pairings between music and social issues. (Yes, we can acknowledge the folk movement went there before “Cold Turkey,” but Lennon had a lot more to lose as he put himself and his causes out there.)

What we ultimately have that puts this piece on the list is an act of creative bravery, an act of expression that few artists before and damned few since have been willing to show the courage in which to engage.  It’s an act of raw exposure by someone who could have just sat back and dismissed the moment in a few words in a safe interview; we don’t get people willing to do that any more in any field, and should cherish such efforts when they come as rarely as they do.

2) “Instant Karma!” (1970)

Picked by: Sally O’Rourke

Two seemingly conflicting themes run through John Lennon’s music: anthems of peace and love directed to humanity as a whole (“All You Need is Love,” “Give Peace a Chance”), and bitter personal attacks, in which Lennon lashes out at someone over a perceived slight (“How Do You Sleep,” “I Found Out”). “Instant Karma!” seems at first like it’s one of the latter, as he admonishes the object of the song that they’ll get the cosmic punishment they deserve (“Instant karma’s gonna get you / Gonna knock you right in the head”). The twist comes in the transition to the chorus. “Who on earth do you think you are? A superstar?” Lennon spits out — but just when you expect him to deliver the death blow, he shocks the listener by agreeing instead: “Well, right you are!”

Because, as Lennon declares in the chorus, “We all shine on, like the moons and the stars and the sun,” a statement that can be taken both literally (to borrow a line from Joni Mitchell,“We are stardust / billion year old carbon”) and figuratively (everybody is a star, in that we all play the leads in our own lives). It’s a neat trick: deflating an individual ego by asserting the essential worth of all people. What really sells it, though, is Phil Spector’s dense, propulsive Wall of Sound production, which makes “Instant Karma!” sound like the biggest, most explosive song ever recorded – a supernova of triumphant righteousness.

3) “Mother” (1970)

Picked by: Erika Abrams

To me, the hallmark of Lennon’s writing style was his emotional nakedness and authenticity. And you can’t get more naked, raw, or authentic than “Mother.”

Abandonment was part of John’s life from the beginning. His father, Alfred, an itinerant seaman, was absent during most of John’s early childhood and disappeared from his life by the time he was five. His mother, Julia, kind and free-spirited but unable to take on the responsibility of a child, transferred guardianship to her sister Mimi when John was a toddler. Though separated for years, John and Julia eventually reconnected and developed a close and loving relationship. By all accounts, the two idolized one another and developed a close relationship more like that of a favorite aunt and nephew than mother and son. Julia bought John his first guitar, taught him the banjo chords that began his musical training and regularly opened her home to John and his bandmates. But the relationship ended tragically when Julia was killed by a passing car. John was 17, and this final abandonment would be a continual source of pain, never discussed but often expressed through a cruel and cutting temper.

“Mother” was written after John and Yoko went through primal scream therapy, and the raw pain of childhood loss that he processed during that time — “Mother don’t go, Daddy come home”—is heartbreakingly evident. Though the naked pain expressed makes this difficult to listen to, it’s pure authentic John, as he bares his soul through song in a way few others have ever done.

4) “Working Class Hero” (1970)

Picked by: Jen Cunningham

Bitterness runs rampant in this bold track from Lennon’s first post-Beatles album, John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band. I have fond memories of listening to this track constantly my senior year of college while writing my senior thesis about masculinity in post-war Britain. Working class backgrounds unite many of the great music artists who revolutionized the entertainment industry in the ’60s, and John Lennon is not exempt. There is so much seething rage in the lyrics which are barely tamed by the gentle, yet ominous guitar. This song is an anthem, an ode, and a eulogy all in one, lamenting the sad state of class warfare and the struggle of being a nobody in the face of a condescending and patronizing authority. The lyrics make you yearn to lead and break free while suggesting that being working class is an inescapable, no matter how far you think you’ve come.

5) “#9 Dream” (1974)

Picked by: Rick Simmons

This song has just about everything going for it: musical contributions by legendary session men such as Nicky Hopkins, Jim Keltner, and Klaus Voorman, creative Lennonesque lyrics (“Ah! böwakawa poussé, poussé”), and a back story whereby Lennon claimed the song was derived from a dream that he actually had, and thus its ethereal feel. In a really odd twist, the song peaked at #9 at the Billboard charts. I chose it because as the oldest of the REBEAT staff, I actually remember when it came out; it has a personal significance that would be best left unwritten!

6) “(Just Like) Starting Over” (1980)

Picked by: Emma Sedam

There are a lot of songs about the fun, frolicking beginnings to a relationship, and a great deal about the at-each-other’s-throats ends of a relationship, but not many about rekindling an existing one, making it nice again. And that’s what gets me about this song. It’s gorgeous. You show me a person who wouldn’t want a track like this written for them after a 10+ year relationship and I’ll show you a person who doesn’t have feelings. Of course, for Lennon, it was a double meaning. After not releasing anything for five years, he was ready to rekindle his relationship with the public, too.

7) “Watching The Wheels” (1981)

Picked by: Susan Ryan

Released as a single from Double Fantasy in early 1981, shortly after Lennon’s murder, this song nicely sums up where he was in his life at the time of his death. After five years out of the spotlight raising his son, Lennon found contentment in the ordinary, a place where he could just stand back and watch instead of participating in the celebrity game at every moment. More significantly, many of the personal demons that had followed him for most of his life had been conquered — he was probably at his most serene. I’ve always loved this song, and now, as I get older with a teenage child of my own, I understand more and more the significance of being able to “watch the wheels go ’round and ’round.”

8) “Nobody Told Me” (1984)

Picked by: Allison Boron

Recorded shortly before John Lennon’s murder and released as a single from the 1984 Milk and Honey album, its original intended singer was Ringo Starr. To me, though, this sounds like quintessential Lennon; its lyrics are very “Cold Turkey”-esque, but the melody is pure mid-’70s funky shuffle, maybe picking up where his pre-househusband days left off. Never in a million years could I imagine Ringo Starr taking a crack at this — it’s too political, too substantial, too critical. In short, Ringo would only sound like he’s just trying to do his best John Lennon.

9) “I’m Stepping Out” (1984)

Picked by: Pam Sosnowski

This upbeat track kicks off the posthumous album Milk and Honey. It surely must have put an ache in the hearts of Lennon fans hearing it for the first time in 1984 because it’s about Lennon’s need to get out of the house and soak in the NYC nightlife after becoming a househusband and devoted dad to Sean. But the reason the song resonates with me is the bit of advice John gives us: “If it don’t feel right, you don’t have to do it. Leave a message on the phone and tell ’em to screw it.” Those words of wisdom to listen to your gut in a situation have never failed me.

Be sure to leave your favorite solo John Lennon songs in the comments!