I Do Not Like Mondays

Man, I do not like Mondays. So to refocus, here’s something I do like — or certainly did once — from some of my very earliest memories.

This is “Cleanup Time” by John Lennon. Don’t know it? It’s fair to call this a lesser known, maybe a bit weird, later work from one of the world’s most famous songwriters.

When I looked it up to find it again, more than four decades had passed since the last time I remembered hearing it.

Listening to it now, there’s a slightly different version that lived in my head for four decades that I’ve played internally now and then over the years, maybe as heard through my (then) four-year-old ear canals. In my version, John sings the refrain just a touch higher, and there’s a repeated, emphasized “cleanup, cleanup” along with the instrumentation. I like mine better, but the real song isn’t bad, and I’ll note that John actually grinds/burns his voice a bit in it, such as in singing “let it begin” and “cleanup,” which is somewhat rare.

But let me back up a second. My mom was an actual Beatlemaniac, one who grew up loving the Beatles and went nuts for songs like “Please Please Me” and “She Loves You.” She’s told me she liked the earlier stuff best, but followed the band through their breakup and afterwards intermittently in their solo work. For the record, about a week before she turned 17, she was also one of the peace-loving kids at Woodstock 1969.

She was a fan of John Lennon, though she didn’t always agree with his statements and philosophies. Even so, in late 1980, she was excited to get Double Fantasy when it was released.

From the album, “Cleanup Time” turned out to be a useful tool for me and my big brother. We — at least I — loved it, and I think he did as well. I remember that clearly. My mom would promise to play it if we cleaned up our playroom, which was a constant disaster. I begged her to play it all the time.

…for a relatively short time.

One day, pretty early on if I recall correctly, the playroom was again a wreck, and my mom got us to start cleaning up with the song. My brother and I kind of danced around like kids do and got putting toys back in their places.

My mom turned on the TV, and then suddenly she changed. I saw her. She got very upset and started crying. I remember my father there, too, and in my memory he was immediately affected and sad. I got really scared and confused, and it was this lightning bolt; I think I started crying, too, reciprocally.

Still the song played, but I think my mom switched it off, just to have silence. Maybe it was too much. The atmosphere was tense and terrible, like a dark curtain had fallen on the room. What strikes me now is even so young, I remember perceiving a sense of finality to whatever had happened — like a vase that has been hopelessly shattered.

It was Dec. 9, 1980, and we’d heard what had happened the night before. My mom tried to explain the news to me in some roundabout way, I think mentioning the song. I was, as I mentioned, four years old and extremely confused. Somehow, I grasped that a very bad thing had happened to the man who sang this song I loved. And that’s the last I ever remember hearing it until I searched it out many years later.

That was my first experience with death, and to this day it can break me up if I think about it too much. It’s a more vivid memory than I would like.

But I’ve been a fan of The Beatles for, quite literally, as long as I can remember — at first because my mom played their stuff and I began choosing my favorites, and later on my own. I have always felt that when the Beatles were on, they could write music almost on another level, where it just felt classic and right the first time you heard it. There was something special about it.

What other songs of John’s — or those where he was a large contributor — have I taken to over the years? Well, let me see. Here are a few:

“(Just Like) Starting Over” – Might as well start with this first single released in advance of Double Fantasy, since I knew it as well. This one probably beats “Cleanup Time,” and it’s got a message any long-time couple can likely identify with; I like its changes. When “starting over” is repeated, that is a trademark John Lennon vocal sound.

“Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)” – One of my all-time top favorites, I consider this song about as good as it gets, built off of a perfect melody and it stays great throughout. The sitar makes it slightly mystical. I was fully taken by it at first listen, which I think came when I stumbled onto it in my early teen years. The song has an additional nuance of meaning if you consider the British use of “bird” as “young woman,” similar to the American use of “chick.”

“Across the Universe” – I also liked this one right away when I heard it in my later teenage years. I think it epitomizes the more esoteric John, with existentialist lyrics and pretty melodies. I never hung up much on the “jai guru deva” in there, but if you look you’ll find different translations — basically “hail” or “thanks” to the “heavenly/ divine teacher” — followed by “om,” a meditative/ spiritual chant. I take the whole line as meditative, perhaps trying to focus on and bring about the next part, “nothing’s gonna change my world.”

“Number 9 Dream” – This is another I knew and really liked since I was very young, always asking my mom to play it. I never knew its title and instead thought of it as “Ah, bowakawa, pousse pousse,” and appropriately found it very dreamlike. I used to pester my mom about what that phrase meant, but she would always tell me, “You probably don’t want to know.” I just thought those were dream words, and it turns out that’s pretty much the case. I don’t like the intro, which I find too twangy or something, but once past that I’m fine. I like this song a lot as it transitions off the verses toward the repeated parts like “I thought I could feel… feel… feel…”. More I cannot say; what more can I say?

“Come Together” – Just cool, very different. I’ve been listening to this one also from a very young age and, though I never delved into any interpretations, always felt like the man described in the song is a cult leader or something along those lines. I prefer the original to the various remakes that’ve been done.

“Strawberry Fields Forever” – I found this one, I think, when I was maybe 16. It’s great music, and I like how it (to me) describes someone who feels different than everyone else, maybe uncomfortably so, and retreats to a childhood memory for solace. I’ve also always liked Ringo Starr’s drum work in this one.

“Help!” – This song moves pretty fast and has a great chorus, and likely applies to just about anyone who reaches a certain age — doesn’t have to be very old — and realizes they aren’t invincible anymore. “Help!” is another I’ve known since I was a child. And again, ultimately, I prefer the Beatles version of it.

“Don’t Let Me Down” – Somewhat base lyrics here in the verses, but I find it cool music. I stumbled into this one in my early 20s, I believe it was, so it was later than some of the others. I like its changes as it plays through.

“A Hard Day’s Night” – I’ve also known this one for many years, being exposed to it as a young kid. This leans more toward the Beatles’ earlier stuff; it’s pretty upbeat and passes itself off as basically innocent, while containing more mature messaging like some other Beatles music.

“A Day in the Life” – I found my way to this in my early teen years when I got my own copy of Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band on disc. I like its musical drama and progression, including the somewhat odd, lighter-hearted gear change Paul McCartney wrote in after the first crescendo. As I first heard it, I had an image of World War II from the song’s “war” reference, connecting the “4,000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire” line to The Blitz, though the nearest that came to Blackburn was Manchester. I also took the song as a sort of criticism of people’s fascination with tragic or disastrous news. A good part of the lyrics, it turns out, was inspired by reading the daily newspaper.

“Because” – For me, this one echoes “A Day in the Life” with its line that “because the world is round, it turns me on.” I’ve listened to some media responses criticizing John’s lyrics here, but I like them as well as the music generally, and find the song truly captures the Beatles’ vocal harmonies and style. The Abbey Road version’s synth sounds feel dated to me, though, and I now prefer those and the harpsichord stripped out — which is what the late George Martin and his son Giles did on the 2006 project album for The Beatles LOVE by Cirque du Soleil, isolating this song’s original vocal recordings and inserting pensive pauses between them.

“In My Life” – Though there’s debate about who wrote this one, it feels like John. It opens with six simple and perfect guitar notes. The song is lovely and reflective, and sad in the beautiful way that looking back on the memories of one’s life can be, including thinking of friends and family no longer with us. Despite that, the singer’s greatest love is there with him in the present. It’s bittersweet, like life.

“With a Little Help from My Friends” – Always liked this one, although it was Ringo on the lead vocals and John only contributed to its creation; along with Paul’s, John’s backing vocals are also significant here and stand out. I used to belt it out myself all the time — yeah, it was one of those songs, probably still is — and I prefer the classic-feeling track from Sgt. Pepper’s, with a little of that Beatles lightheartedness you got sometimes. Joe Cocker’s redo is also solid, though, and injects a better line and rhyme by changing the opener to “what would you do” instead of “what would you think.”

“You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” – This one presents an understandable sentiment for anyone who’s ever had a relationship situation go wrong, or very wrong (so, all of us?). I like the music here, coming at a strong point in the Beatles timeline, and have always noticed how John says more like “ay-way” rather than “uh-way” in the chorus, which augments the rhyme.

“Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)” – I also knew this one as a very little boy, and as such, since John doesn’t mention Sean Lennon until the end, I almost took it personally. My mother has quoted it to me several times in my life, usually to my annoyance: “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” It’s an unusual one in its use of steel drums and ocean sounds, and another pretty song of John’s.

“Yellow Submarine” – Sure, why not? This is a fun tune, and there’s a reason I’ll roll it in even though John was only a contributor here. Here’s something odd: at the opening line, I always hear in my mind, “In the town where I was born / lived a man who failed to see,” not “sailed to sea.” Make of that what you will. I feel like John makes this one — my favorite part is him goofing off a bit with his backing vocals after the submarine noises segment, so he has a notable presence in it, though Ringo has the lead.

“Dear Yoko” – Sometimes I don’t like songs targeting one woman’s name like this, but Yoko was a good inspiration for this song and others and it’s just cool music — although I don’t really like the (short) intro, which comes off as weirdly country to me. I particularly like it as it opens into the verses, how John like musically stutters into it. For me, this one smokes “Oh Yoko!”, and by the way, you even get a Brit saying “TV” instead of “tele.” Sweet!

“I Want to Hold Your Hand” – For an early Beatles, really pretty childish song, I’ve always found it listenable. It has more like a 1950s early Rock sound to me. Having called this song childish, let me take a step back and ask you this: when was the last time you held someone’s hand, not because you had to but as a gesture of love? It’s surprising how meaningful that really is.

“If I Fell” – I think this one’s just a pretty song and music, particularly at the onset, with harmonies almost all the way through after that. I consider it sort of a sequel to “I Want to Hold Your Hand” since we hear that he’s found out love is more than that. It’s also somewhat sad, I think, for the other “her” and “she” alluded to in this one who’ll cry upon discovering the prospective new love.

“Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” – I don’t much like the title spelling, but there’s a lot I do like about this one, including the messages it contains and the music as it opens very melodically. This song is usually played incompletely now: you can find many, many tutorials showing how to strum the basic chords, for example, but that omits something important. Listen to the 1971 production piece again. The most notable guitar part heard through the verses is played in a classical tremolo technique, like a mandolin — it’s much more complex and delicate, and John had it added to help the song stand out. It is subtly more emotional.

While the one line “for the yellow and red ones” doesn’t work today, since we say “Asian” and “Native American” or “First Nations” (my preference, since I find it more accurate), realize this was written at a different time and its message is inclusion and peace (and don’t forget, by the way, John’s wife is Asian). Unlike a lot of Christmas music that I’m worn out for quickly, I think this one’s right for the time of year. It asks listeners to reflect on the past year and what they’ve put into the world. On that inclusivity point — you’ll hear weak, strong, rich, poor, old and young in the song — I’ll note that it also contains both the British “happy Christmas” and American “merry Christmas” preferences.

“Nowhere Man” – With good music and singsong harmonies, I’ve always liked John’s vocals in this one and sometimes ponder at its meaning, like maybe there’s some lesson in it — “isn’t he a bit like you and me?” But I never could quite put my finger on it. Perhaps it’s urging the “nowhere man” to open his eyes and come out of his little bit of universe he’s been focused on.

“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” – Probably one of my lesser favorites, but a cool and very original bit of songwriting, and I love the build-up and roll-in to the chorus. But what’s this one really about? John explained it was inspired by his first son Julian Lennon when he was just a toddler. “This is the truth: my son came home with a drawing and showed me this strange-looking woman flying around, and I said, ‘What is it?’ And he said, ‘It’s Lucy in the sky with diamonds,’ and I thought, ‘That’s beautiful,’ and I immediately wrote a song about it,” John said.

“Give Peace a Chance” – I think this one’s cool for what it is… just some pretty basic, catchy music, set up almost like a hoe-down in a barn, boots stomping. The verses kind of zip by and are easy to miss, really coming off like a rant of different things, all these different things… and then, “All we are saying, is give peace a chance.” Since it also seems targeted to what people are doing personally, the “peace” referenced here doesn’t necessarily have to be nation versus nation but maybe in your own life and how you deal with others. I respect a song that’s actually foolhardy enough to attempt to do a little good; the opposite is easier and common.

“She’s Leaving Home” – Definitely a sad song, but a pretty chorus from John and possibly a life lesson somewhere in it. There is clearly a lack of communication and understanding in the parent-child relationship described. Between the lines, I think it suggests empathizing more with others rather than getting locked into our own views and perspectives.

“Watching the Wheels” – I like the music a lot here, and for me this song is one of the best representations of John’s vocals and vocal style. I also find it very honest — a person who’s maybe very introverted and perhaps feels misunderstood, I think, but has gone through the brightest glare of the limelight and is now stepping back and saying, “Nah, you go ahead without me; I have other things to do.”

“Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite” – This is a weird song, but as a kid my mom played it now and then off of Sgt. Pepper’s and it reminded me of a funhouse or something. I still like the way it comes off, and I think it captures that darker/ surreal element a carnival or circus can have, but it’s actually kind of funny if you listen to it. My favorite line and delivery was always “lastly through a hogshead of real fire,” only I didn’t know that a hogshead is basically a double-sized barrel (did you know that?). Today that particular reference may be better known as an inn and pub that appears in the Harry Potter novels.

“Woman” – Here’s another I’ve known from early memory, I think because my mom liked it and played it occasionally. It’s pretty, if a bit melancholy, and it’s difficult for two reasons. First, it’s fairly over-the-top sappy, and saying “woman” — unlike “man,” which works very differently — can simply sound condescending or even demeaning. But I think John, for the most part, pulls it off as a genuine love song acknowledging his own shortcomings and weaknesses. That’s not easy.

“All You Need Is Love” – I like this song, but think it was overproduced — particularly at the refrain, “All you need is love [wuh, wuh, wuh wuh wuh].” Some of that instrumentation, while it fits the Beatles’ sometimes silly, big showmanship, I think takes away from the simplicity of the song and message. But I like how the verses, while seemingly philosophical, are mostly just stating matters of fact (e.g., “nothing you can sing that can’t be sung”). And I think the message rings true: if you have this one thing, love, the rest pretty much falls into place.

“Imagine” – I’m including it last, but this one isn’t last on my favorites list; plenty of people like, love and have recognized it. It’s beautiful songwriting, and I would point out that rather than being any statement against religion and other elements it mentions, which is how some see it, I always took this song to suggest imagining that all the reasons you have to hate those you hate, do not exist. Think about that.

Just by volume alone, I can’t think of any other single musician or band whose work I have loved more, but some of John’s music is also among my most favorite of all. To be fair, I probably have just as many favorites from Paul McCartney if I tallied them up, and I think they made quite a duo. And several Beatles standout favorites of mine came from George Harrison.

But I’ve always had kind of a special place for John Lennon, and it’s been that way for about as long as I have memory. One of his was the first I remember choosing a favorite song, and one of the first things I remember at all. Later on I always wished I could’ve met him; you know, maybe sit down with him sometime back in the day, have some tea or a cappuccino or something, talk for a while.

Getting back to my experience with “Cleanup Time” leading up to December 1980, to the man who ended this remarkable musical life, I have seen your name but can’t remember it just now, and that’s fine. I’m actually not sure if you’re still alive or not, and that’s fine, too.

I will say you did a lot more than end one man’s life and what could have been; you caused quite a lot of pain and distress in the world. Along with at least a likely two others I can think of, I know somewhat personally one little boy’s heart you broke.

That is a hideous thing to carry and have as your contribution to this world. But you know, though, oddly enough, it also makes me think of the writings of the late Harper Lee, whose work some no longer want circulated. That is another discussion.

There’s a point she made that I remember. Lee wrote in part of fictional lawyer Atticus Finch, who in his youth was known as “One Shot” and was “the deadest shot” in his county. In his youth, Atticus would go out hunting, and a peer from the town recalls that if he shot 15 times and brought home 14 doves, he’d complain of wasting ammunition.

But fictional Atticus, thus gifted, perhaps finds it an unfair advantage and uncivil, and puts away his gun. His kids get air rifles many years later, and he instructs them never to shoot any mockingbirds.

That’s because, as Lee explains and intimates in her story, a mockingbird is essentially an innocent, beautiful thing. As one character tells it, mockingbirds “don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.”

Content © Aaron G. Marsh