JOHN LENNON

 

johnlennon.com

 

history- from offical site -

October 9, 1940 - As sirens wailed during a German Luftwaffe attack, John Lennon is born at Oxford Street Maternity Hospital in Liverpool, England to Julia Stanley and Alfred Lennon.

1956 - John's mother buys him a guitar. He forms his first group, the Quarrymen, with pals Pete Shotton, Nigel Whalley, and Ivan Vaughan.

July 6, 1957 - John meets Paul McCartney at the Woolton Parish Church in Liverpool during a performance by the Quarrymen.

1958 - John writes his first song, "Hello Little Girl," which is later recorded by the Beatles at their 1962 audition for Decca Records.

July 15, 1958 - John's mother is killed while crossing the road by an off-duty policeman.

1960 - In his final year of art school in Liverpool, John forms a group with Paul, George, and Stu Sutcliffe.

August 1960 - Pete Best joins The Silver Beetles as drummer for their six week residency at a strip bar in Hamburg. Stu eventually leaves the group, and Paul takes over on bass.

January 1961 - The Beatles debut at the Cavern Club, Liverpool.

January 24, 1962 - The Beatles agree verbally to be managed by Brian Epstein

June 4, 1962 - George Martin signs The Beatles to Parlophone EMI.

August 23, 1962 - John marries Cynthia Powell as news hits the press that Brian Epstein has fired Pete Best.

February 1963 - The Beatles begin their first U.K. tour. They take one night off to record the album Please Please Me in one session.

April 8, 1963 - John Charles Julian Lennon is born to Cynthia and John at Sefton General Hospital, in Liverpool.

August 3, 1963 - After almost three hundred performances at the venue, The Beatles play their farewell show at the Cavern Club.

February 7, 1964 - The Beatles embark on their first US tour.

February 9 and 16, 1964 - The Beatles headline twice on the "Ed Sullivan Show."

March 1964 - With "Can't Buy Me Love" topping the charts both in Britain and America, shooting begins on the Beatles' first feature film, A Hard Day's Night.

April 1964 - John's first book of stories and poems, In His Own Write, is published.

August 1964 - After touring Austrailia, The Beatles visit the U.S. for a 32-day tour. Bob Dylan introduces them to marijuana.

January 1965 - John composes "Help!"

Spring 1965 - A friend of George Harrison's secretly spikes coffee with LSD, sending John, his wife Cynthia, George, and Patti Boyd on their first LSD trip.

June 1965 - John's second book, A Spaniard In The Works, is published.

July 29, 1965 - Help! premieres in London's West End.

August 1965 - The Beatles visit Elvis Presley at his home. Elvis refers to each of them as "Beatle," not knowing their individual names.

December 3, 1965 - Rubber Soul is released.

June 20, 1966 - The American album Yesterday and Today is released with the infamous "butcher cover." It was later recalled after complaints.

August 5, 1966 - Revolver is released.

August 29, 1966 - After major difficulties on the road, including death threats, The Beatles perform their final concert at Candlestick Park in San Francisco. They are now solely a studio group.

November 1966 - Yoko Ono and John Lennon meet at Indica Gallery in London.

February 1967 - John and Paul receive the Song of the Year Grammy� Award for "Michelle."

June 1, 1967 - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is released.

September 1967 - John writes "I Am the Walrus."

November 27, 1967 - Magical Mystery Tour is released in America.

February 1968 - George convinces The Beatles to visit the Maharashi in India.

August 22, 1968 - Cynthia files for divorce. Paul soon writes "Hey Jude" to comfort Julian.

November 11, 1968 - John and Yoko's first of three experimental albums is released. The cover of Two Virgins is a photograph of the couple standing naked.

November 22, 1968 - The Beatles [The White Album] is released.

January 13, 1969 - Yellow Submarine is released.

January 30, 1969 - The Beatles perform together as a group for the final time on the roof of the Apple building, during the filming of Let It Be.

March 20, 1969 - John and Yoko marry in Gibraltar.

May 26, 1969 - Life with the Lions, the second experimental collaboration between John and Yoko, is released.

September 1969 - Lennon releases the single "Cold Turkey," about his heroin withdrawl.

September 26, 1969 - Abbey Road is released.

October 20, 1969 - Wedding Album is released.

December 12, 1969 - Lennon's impromptu concert in Toronto with Eric Clapton assisting on guitar is released as Live Peace in Toronto, 1969.

December 11, 1970 - Plastic Ono Band is released.

May 8, 1970 - Let It Be is released.

September 3, 1971 - John leaves the U.K. for New York, never to return.

September 9, 1971 - The album Imagine is released.

June 12, 1972 - John and Yoko release the more mainstream Sometime in New York City/Live Jam.

October 1973 - John travels to Los Angeles, later calling his eighteen-month separation from Yoko his "lost weekend."

November 2, 1973 - John releases the album Mind Games.

September 26, 1974 - Sessions from the "lost weekend" are released as Walls and Bridges.

February 17, 1975 - Rock 'N' Roll is released.

October 5, 1975 - U.S. Court of Appeal overturns John's deportation order, granting him residency.

October 9, 1975 - Sean Taro Ono Lennon is born at New York Hospital on John's thirty-fifth birthday.

November 17, 1980 - The Double Fantasy album is released.

December 8, 1980 - Returning home from the studio, John Lennon is assassinated while walking toward the entryway of his building.

February 1982 - John posthumously wins the Album of the Year Grammy� for Double Fantasy.

January 27, 1984 - Milk and Honey is released.

February 10, 1986 - A concert recorded on August 30, 1972 is released as Live in New York City.

November 3, 1986 - A collection of alternate takes from Rock 'N' Roll and Walls and Bridges is released as Menlove Ave.

February 1992 - John receives the Grammy� Lifetime Achievement Award.

January 1994 - John is inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame as a solo artist.

November 2, 2004 - A collection of recordings with John performing solo with a guitar is released as Acoustic.

 

yahoo bio -

As one-half of the most famous pop songwriting team of all time, John Lennon (b. Oct. 9, 1940, Liverpool, England) will go down in history not only for noting with irony that his band the Beatles was "more popular than Jesus," but for having more than one member of the clergy sadly, if quietly, agree with him. Lennon's songwriting relationship with Paul McCartney may be the most thoroughly examined, well-documented collaboration in musical history. In the course of their momentous career--beginning with the Oct. 5, 1962 U.K. release of debut single "Love Me Do" through the year of McCartney's Apr. 10, 1970 announcement that the group had dissolved--the Beatles released 46 top 40 singles and 26 charting albums, many of which were reissues of earlier material or contained only interview snippets. Because of the massive press attention the Beatles received through the course of their career, and because the eyes of the world were focused on John Lennon's every move until his tragic death in 1980, his music away from the group has taken on that much more importance in retrospect.
The John Lennon who co-wrote "She Loves You" and "Love Me Do" with Paul McCartney was a young and ambitious singer-songwriter who merely wanted to become part of "the Goffin & King of England"; the John Lennon who would pose nude on the cover of Two Virgins with his bride-to-be Yoko Ono was instead one of the world's most famous individuals. His very existence was a statement, his every recording was examined thoroughly, held up against his past work as a Beatle, and dissected: What was its motivation? Is this the music he wanted to do, but the other Beatles wouldn't let him? Did he hate his past work? Did he think listeners wanted to hear him and Yoko Ono grunting, groaning, laughing and screaming? More to the point, did he think fans wanted to pay money for the privilege of hearing it?

In fact, most of those questions died down following the release of 1970's Plastic Ono Band, which in many ways marked Lennon's resumption of his Beatles-styled songwriting ways. But the four albums that preceded it, all released within a year, were a far cry from the polished work of Plastic Ono Band or even Let It Be: Between February and December of 1969, Lennon and Ono released Unfinished Music #1: Two Virgins, Unfinished Music #2: Life With The Lions, and Wedding Album--three albums of "experimental music," avant-garde ramblings that tried the patience of most Beatle fans. And when Lennon "returned" to rock in January 1970 with Live Peace In Toronto, 1969, one half of a potentially great live album, featuring Eric Clapton on lead guitar and versions of "Dizzy Miss Lizzy," "Yer Blues," "Blue Suede Shoes," and "Cold Turkey," was marred by the unsettling, screeching yawps of Ono.

Still, when Lennon released the comparatively accessible John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band, he came back with a stark rawness he'd never displayed while in the Beatles. His greatest solo work, the album was an intense but rewarding listening experience that contained many of his best-known songs--including "Mother," "Working Class Hero," and "God," the latter two of which include some of his most oft-quoted lyrical passages. The brutal, inward-looking nature of such tunes as the album closer "My Mummy's Dead"--on which Lennon sang "My Mummy's dead/It's hard to explain/So much pain/I could never show it/My Mummy's dead"--offered a revealingly close (some said too close) look at Lennon's inner turmoil; the album is still cited by many as one of rock's finest.

Lennon's best-known solo work Imagine followed in 1971; perhaps surprisingly, the title track, now very much a pop standard, peaked at only No. 3 on the pop charts. Still in the introverted mode, Lennon turned his gaze outward long enough to craft what may be one of the meanest songs in pop, directed at former partner McCartney. "How Do You Sleep" took the famous bassist to task for, among other things, his composing skills: "A pretty face may last a year or two," sang Lennon, "But pretty soon they'll see what you can do/The sound you make is muzak to my ears/You must have learned something in all those years." But balancing out that vitriol, and the seeming self-effacement of "Crippled Inside," were such beautiful tracks as "Oh My Love," a simple and elegant love song for which even the era's Yoko-haters could be grateful.

Yoko's presence was felt on Lennon's most disposable effort, 1972's Sometime In New York City, which was jointly credited to John & Yoko/ Plastic Ono Band and came wrapped in a mock New York Times cover. The album, which peaked at No. 48 and was Lennon's lowest-charting release since his 1969 "experimental" phase, was a mostly strident diatribe that was, appropriately, very newspaperish in tone. Though it contains the infamous Lennon/Ono composition "Woman Is The Nigger Of The World"--which was actually released as a single, and peaked at No. 57--the album's songs about Angela Davis, the prison riots at Attica, and the imprisoned John Sinclair now inevitably seem dated and slight.

When Lennon returned to his more normal pop mode with 1973's Mind Games, it seemed a strangely empty gesture. Though he had a hit with the title track--a minor one, it peaked at No. 18--many of the songs had little focus and even less melody; for the first time it became acutely evident Lennon would have derived great benefit from a helping of McCartney's skill at making so-called "muzak." The album's ascent to the top 10 now seems much more a function of Lennon's ex-Beatle status than its inherent worth; with the exception of its title track, Mind Games may be the least-heard in Lennon's entire pop canon.

Even more disturbingly, while the singer's 1974 set Walls And Bridges seemed something of a return to form--it did, after all, reach No. 1--its popularity generally stemmed from two singles, one of which ("Whatever Gets You Through The Night") featured conspicuous backing vocals from the '70s hottest superstar, Elton John, and the other ("#9 Dream") which was a self-consciously Beatle-esque track that almost seemed an artistic retreat of sorts. Where was the intensity of Plastic Ono Band or Imagine? Following the even further artistic retreat of 1975's Rock 'N' Roll, Lennon's interesting but minor retreading of rock classics such as "Be-Bop-A-Lula," "Stand By Me," and "Peggy Sue," and greatest hits compilation Shaved Fish, the singer dropped out of the business for five years to raise his young son Sean.

Lennon returned with what would win a Grammy as 1981's album of the year, Double Fantasy, his long-awaited comeback and one very much worth waiting for. Divided into two parts--one half Lennon songs, one half Ono songs--the album was an inspired work that was rapturously received by fans. Featuring three top 10 hits--including the No. 1 "(Just Like) Starting Over," "Woman," and "Watching The Wheels," the album was in some ways as introverted as ever; this time, however, Lennon seemed a much happier man, filled with love for Ono and, as documented wonderfully on "Beautiful Boy," his young son Sean. But as "(Just Like) Starting Over" made its way to the top of the charts, Lennon's triumphant return horrendously ended on Dec. 8, 1980, when he was shot in front of the Dakota apartment building in New York's Upper West Side; he died en route to Roosevelt Hospital.

Lennon's tragic death was eventually followed by the inevitable release of several albums of unfinished songs, outtakes, and live performances on such albums as 1984's Milk And Honey and 1986's Live In New York City and Menlove Avenue; his last charting album was the soundtrack to Andrew Solt's 1988 film Imagine: John Lennon. Though the albums may continue to come, there will never, obviously, be any new music from John Lennon ever again. The finality of his death remains a gruesome reminder for an entire generation that the brightest lights in pop music and elsewhere can be unexpectedly extinguished at any time.

Written by Dave DiMartino

 

Lennon Lives - article i found on msn
A season of retrospectives, including the first-ever digital release, "Working Class Hero," celebrates the timeless legacy of the late, great artist
By Alan Light

Among the A-list demigods in rock-and-roll history, John Lennon is the most human. Bob Dylan is vaguely otherworldly, touched by grace ("You can just look at him and see that," said producer Bob Johnston in the recent "No Direction Home" documentary). Jimi Hendrix -- R&B road veteran, paratrooper, instrumental visionary, dead at 27 -- was clearly not of this earth. Mick Jagger feels untouchable, whereas Keith Richards remains a perfect cartoon outlaw, brandishing his five-string Fender like a pirate's cutlass.

But Lennon never seemed out of reach. It's why his image -- and usually, though not always, his music -- has aged so well and why it's still so shocking to think about his murder. He introduced, or at least perfected, the whole idea of humanity, fallibility and individuality to rock songwriting. As far back as songs such as "Help" and "In My Life," he expressed genuine vulnerability -- not just teenage melodrama -- in ways that were previously impossible to imagine. Dylan opened the doors for unprecedented, experimental new lyrical directions, but he adamantly refused to ever reveal himself so directly. Lennon was all about letting us inside his head, and his world. It's no surprise, then, that Lennon craved and thrived on the democracy and chaos of New York City, and, horribly, it's somehow inevitable that such accessibility led to his death at the hands of a self-proclaimed fan.

This season marks two significant anniversaries. October 9 would have been John Lennon's 65th birthday. On December 8, 25 years will have passed since his murder, absurd and implausible as that sounds. Taking stock of Lennon is always a complicated task, because our human-scale relationship with his mythology renders him impossible to pin down. He tends to reflect whatever you choose to see in him. In Walt Whitman's over-quoted words, Lennon contradicted himself, and he contained multitudes. He was an activist and a homebody, a cynic and a romantic. His legacy is whatever you make it -- and he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Along with the commemoration of the landmark dates has come, not surprisingly, a flood of new products. There's a shelf full of new books (including a telling memoir by his first wife, Cynthia, and a moving chronicle of his NYC years from photographer Bob Gruen); several DVDs (the 1988 "Imagine" documentary, John and Yoko's three remarkable 1971 appearances on "The Dick Cavett Show"); and first-time CD and digital releases of the "Sometime in New York City" and "Walls and Bridges" albums, plus a two-disc collection called "Working Class Hero: The Definitive Lennon," which also represents the first Lennon material, solo or otherwise, to be available digitally (Nov. 8 release). Along with Bob Spitz's massive new Beatles biography and the usual stream of Beatles-related material, such as "This Bird Has Flown," a recent album paying tribute to the 40th anniversary of "Rubber Soul," (to say nothing of Paul McCartney's current tour, which happily goes heavy on the Beatles' songs), it's guaranteed that John won't be leaving the spotlight anytime soon.

The "Working Class Hero" set raises any number of questions about the treatment of an artist cut down in his creative years. Starting with: If the single-disc "Lennon Legend" and "John Lennon Collection" albums and the four-disc "Anthology" box set already exist, is this new compilation necessary? It's a tough call. For the casual fan, the essential hits have been covered just fine, and for the more serious listener, the complete Lennon catalog only consists of eight studio albums (plus scattered singles). The inclusion of five tracks from the erratic "Walls and Bridges" -- though not the scathing "Steel and Glass" in which Lennon flashes his caustic wit like a shiv -- might just indicate that this album is stretched too thin to be truly "definitive." There are no previously unreleased songs, only a few semi-rarities from the "Anthology" and "Live in New York City" albums, but nothing from last year's fascinating "Acoustic" release.

But a case can be made that as an introduction to Lennon, "Working Class Hero" does fill a void -- all the more so given that it represents the only legal digital Lennon music in the online world. In the end, he's a figure too multifaceted to cover in a one-disc treatment. The most notable -- though perfectly understandable, given the limitations -- omissions from the earlier collections were the brilliant, bracing songs from 1970's "Plastic Ono Band" album. (This is the place to stop and say that every second of "Plastic Ono Band" is essential, flawless and required listening even for a Lennon neophyte.) The "Collection" somehow included only the delicate "Love," whereas "Legend" added "Mother" and "Working Class Hero." The new set augments those three with the two songs "God" and "Isolation,"which in some ways form the very core of "Plastic Ono Band."

Taken together, those two songs represent the paradox, and the triumph, at the heart of a painfully intimate work: the terror that comes from recognizing our true solitude and the strength that comes from embracing it. The most famous words in "God," of course, come with Lennon's climactic proclamation that "I don't believe in Beatles," but the song's real conclusion lies in the line that follows, "I just believe in me." There's no question that the inclusion of these songs makes for a greater understanding of the complexity of Lennon as a person and as an artist.

That's what jumps out of "Working Class Hero" -- the raw emotion and depth of feeling that John Lennon reached. It didn't always make for great songs, not even enough to sustain an edit down to 38 selections. But it's also hard to argue that a true representation of Lennon should prioritize consistency.

Indeed, it is the very extremes of feeling that you notice on this collection: from the exultant bliss of "Oh Yoko!" and "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)" to the anguish of "Mother" and "Scared," from the innocence of "Give Peace a Chance" to the fury of "Gimme Some Truth." We've gotten so used to hearing our superstars perform in character, or emote from behind a scrim of irony, that the immediacy and clarity of these songs is actually unsettling. And it's this nexus of open-wound passion and contradictory world views that add up to the central role that the song "Imagine" plays in the canon of Lennon's recordings.

Much like the popular misreading of Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the U.S.A." as a patriotic anthem, it's easy to bury the intentions of "Imagine" under a few carefully selected lines and that magnificent melody. But to seriously consider the implications of a world with no heaven and hell and -- now more than ever -- with "nothing to kill or die for/And no religion, too" is a truly radical act. Accepting of both Lennon's utopian and hard-bitten philosophy and binding them in a precise and unforgettable song, "Imagine" is entirely worthy of the accolades and reverence it receives, but it's seldom recognized for the tough challenges that it issues to us all.

The conventional knock on Lennon's later recordings -- after five years of retirement as a househusband helping raise baby Sean in the confines of the Dakota -- is that it was too soft and fuzzy. Perhaps inevitably, under the pressure of being one of pop music's all-time highest-profile comebacks, some were disappointed by the conservative sound of 1980's "Double Fantasy." But set in the context of his full solo career, these songs take on more layers. "I'm Losing You" (especially this biting version, recorded during an aborted session with Cheap Trick providing the backing) is hardly the kind of dozy, lovesick musing that critics of this era would have you believe. I've always found the lyrics to "Woman" rather clunky, but to deny the melodic pleasures of "(Just Like) Starting Over" -- leaving aside the sentimentality that comes from remembering it all over the radio in the days after his murder -- is to ignore Lennon's first love, old-school rock and roll.

In fact, as much of a mess as 1975's oldies tribute "Rock & Roll" turned out to be (recorded in a drunken haze with an out-of-tune band, many of the sessions helmed by an out-of-control Phil Spector), it's the lone Lennon album that's under-represented on "Working Class Hero." Only his version of Ben E. King's "Stand by Me" is included. One thing to remember about John Lennon is that, even on his worst day, even at his lowest physical and mental conditions, he might have been the greatest pure singer in rock history. The raggedy live rendition of "Come Together" tossed into this mix, in which he nervously struggles for the words, illustrates his ability to ace a vocal regardless of the circumstances (see also "This Boy" from the Beatles' Ed Sullivan appearances, or "All You Need is Love," or even the demo recording of "Real Love").

The two songs from the generally reviled "Some Time in New York City" (which is finally being released on CD, minus the interminable live jam with Frank Zappa's Mothers of Invention) display some of Lennon's worst artistic tendencies -- topical lyrics that were dated by the time they hit stores and sloppy and inconsequential arrangements -- but they too have to be part of the story. John Lennon was a curious blend of ambition and improvisation. He shot from the hip ("[The Beatles] are more popular than Jesus") but was well aware of his influence. If he embraced something -- primal scream therapy, radical politics, child-rearing -- he took it on 100 percent, until the next thing presented itself. But he was never disingenuous, in his life or his music, even when it led to disastrous missteps.

This is where Cynthia Lennon's new book, "John" can add to our understanding of this overanalyzed legend. She tells the story of John as a broken man, who never recovered from the series of deaths -- his mother, his best friend Stuart Sutcliffe, Beatles' manager Brian Epstein -- that defined his young life. The towering figure in his youth is the woman who raised him, his stern, selfish Aunt Mimi. Cynthia describes someone who would always walk away from a relationship than risk dealing with complications or confrontation. It's hardly a pleasant portrait, but it's told without malice, and it feels compatible with the body of work he left behind.

The most revelatory new Lennon project, though, is the two DVDs of "The Dick Cavett Show: John & Yoko Collection." The first show -- a full hour that ran on September 11, 1971 -- was his first TV appearance since the break up of the Beatles, and it's quite a strange, fascinating document. John sports an army jacket and cowboy boots, and he fidgets and chews gum throughout. Yoko wears something best described as an orange hot-pantsuit (it's super hot). They smoke and hold hands off-and-on throughout the interview.

Cavett, meantime, assumes an air of detached amusement and leads an amazing stop-and-start parry-and-thrust with the couple. They trade wordplay, discuss John's favorite illustrators and read instructions from Yoko's book "Grapefruit." Clips are shown from experimental films by both Lennons, and they screen music videos for songs from both of their new albums. Yoko is treated as John's creative equal, and the obvious understanding to stay away from Beatles questions is honored. And somehow, out of this odd rhythm, John loosens up and lets Cavett in.

They get around to Beatles stuff without making a big show of it, though Lennon says "I'm fed up talking about the Beatles." The much-celebrated sassiness and humor come through spontaneously, with more than a little edge. Even some of the kookier notions -- the merits of bag-ism, or Cavett listening to Lennon's forehead through a stethoscope, all in the name of "total communication" -- feel sincere, but not overly earnest. You like this couple, in a way that a more conventional, more rehearsed appearance would never allow you to feel.

In their two subsequent appearances, John and Yoko aren't on for the show's full hour, but the exchanges get even looser. Cavett and Lennon even turn a bit confrontational with each other, in a good-hearted way, with seemingly mutual intellectual respect. It all adds up to a John that was seldom chronicled; unlike the rightfully renowned Rolling Stone and Playboy magazine interviews (where he was cranked up and ready to unload) or the freak show of the Lennons' appearances on "The Mike Douglas Show," here he's a regular guy -- or at least as regular as a guy who would later be voted one of the Top Ten Britons of All Time could be. "You're always held up to what you said before," he tells Cavett, "and half the time you don't even know what you're talking about."

It's vaguely ridiculous to talk about the impact or legacy of John Lennon. Quite simply, the Beatles defined the very concept of the modern band, and everyone who has made music since owes them some kind of debt. Confessional singer-songwriters, rappers writing street reportage, bleeding-heart emo bands -- none of them would be the same without the ground broken by the Fab Four. The group's recordings approach perfection (and as the father of a Beatles-obsessed 2-year-old, I can attest to the fact that no matter how well you think you know these records, they hold up miraculously well to frequent repetition). Lennon's post-Beatles years, too, stand as a beacon for living a principled public life as a husband and father, a musician and an activist.

Make no mistake: That decade was a mess, too. Drugs, alcohol, infidelity, an abandoned wife and son and a lot of unfocused, slipshod music take up a good part of Lennon's latter life. But from "Cold Turkey" to "Watching the Wheels," he was brave enough to put all of his life into his art. (It's interesting to note that even the most scandalous moment in Cynthia Lennon's book -- the one time that John punched her in a foolish, jealous rage -- is blunted by his lines from "Getting Better" several years later: "I used to be cruel to my woman/I'd beat her and keep her apart from the things that she loved."

It's tempting to think about what Lennon would be doing today. At 65, would he be touring regularly like Dylan, or occasionally and at great profit, like the Rolling Stones and his former writing partner? Would he be leading anti-war protests or serving as an international man of letters? But nothing is to be gained from such speculation. Above all else, Lennon was unpredictable, so who's to say where his life would have taken him? And, sadly, why even bother in the face of his tragic, brutally final end?

"I could still be forgotten when I'm dead," Lennon said to Dick Cavett on that first broadcast. "I don't really care what happens when I'm dead." This was, of course, simultaneously completely true and utterly false. One foot squarely planted in the moment and one striding toward the future, like in "Revolution" where he sang "don't you know that you can count me out/in." No one has ever juggled publicity and privacy, truth and bullshit, art and life the way John Lennon did. It's why there's never been anyone else like him, and why he'll never be forgotten.

Alan Light is the former editor-in-chief of Spin, Vibe, and Tracks magazines, and a former Senior Writer at Rolling Stone. His writing has also appeared in the New York Times, the New Yorker, GQ, and Entertainment Weekly, and his book "The Skills to Pay the Bills: The Story of the Beastie Boys" will be published in January, 2006. Alan is a two-time winner of the ASCAP-Deems Taylor Award for excellence in music writing.