http://music.guardian.co.uk/rock/story/0,,2102991,00.html?
The Beatles, Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
Nominated by Billy Childish, prime mover of British garage rock
I was a big Beatles fan – I had a Beatles wig and Beatles guitar when I was four – so I know what I’m talking about, but Sgt Pepper signalled the death of rock’n’roll. Rock’n’roll is meant to be full of vitality and energy, and this album isn’t. It sounds like it took six months to shit out. The Beatles were the victims of their success. This is middle-of-the-road rock music for plumbers. Or people who drive round in Citroens – the sort of corporate hippies who ruined rock music. I bought it the day it came out: it was ideal for a seven-year-old. These days, well, it’s my contention that it represents the death of the Beatles as a rock’n’roll band and the birth of them as music hall, which is hardly a victory. The main problem with Sgt Pepper is Sir Paul’s maudlin obsession with his own self-importance and Dickensian misery. (Paul McCartney is the dark one in the Beatles, not John Lennon, because he writes such depressing, scary music.) It’s like a Sunday before school that goes on forever. It’s too dark and twisted for anyone with any light in their life. Then again, when he tries to be upbeat, it rings false – like having a clown in the room. The best thing about the album was the cardboard insert with some medals, a badge and a moustache. But the military jackets they wore on the front made them look like a bunch of grammar-school boys dressed by their mummy. When I was in Thee Mighty Caesars we did a rip-off of the sleeve for an album called John Lennon’s Corpse Revisited, featuring the Beatles‘ heads on stakes. This isn’t the greatest album ever made; in fact, it’s the worst Beatles album up to that point. Live at the Star Club trounces it with ease.
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