WHEN John Lennon entered New York’s Record Plant studios in August 1973, he had to prove himself all over again. His last album, Some Time In New York City, had been critically panned for its ragged, rock ’n’ political sloganeering. At the same time, he was under surveillance from the FBI, while US immigration authorities were trying to deport him because of his anti-war activism. At home, his relationship with Yoko Ono had hit a rocky patch. A sorely needed reset came with Mind Games – an album that he enthusiastically described as “Imagine with balls”, but whose subtle beauty soon became mired in the continued chaos surrounding Lennon.
“I grew up listening to it without realising it had to some degree been overlooked when it came out,” says Sean Ono Lennon, who has overseen an expansive reissue of Mind Games as part of an ongoing re-evaluation of the Lennon solo canon. “To me, it has always been one of his strongest records. The title track alone lives on the very top shelf of my favourite John Lennon tunes. It’s an absolute masterpiece.”
GORDON EDWARDS
If Lennon was feeling the strain at the Record Plant, he didn’t show it. Among the musicians recruited for the sessions was Jim Keltner, whom Lennon had worked with on Imagine. Lennon had brought him up from California to play drums as part of a group of session players Lennon dubbed The Plastic U.F.Ono Band. “It sounds like there should have been some pressure, but John didn’t allow for that,” says Keltner. “He was so normal. That was what was crazy about John – he was more normal than most normal people, but with this insane genius behind it all. Knowing I was going to play with John Lennon was always such a thrill. All I had to do was play – and the fun part would be to listen back afterwards and hear John’s songs with a great band behind them. There was nothing better.”
Mind Games saw Lennon retreat from politics and return to the great theme of his post-1968 output: Yoko. The album contained several songs inspired by his love of his wife, including the beautiful trilogy of “Aisumasen (I’m Sorry)”, “You Are Here” and “Out The Blue”. Elsewhere, on “Tight A$” and “Meat City” Lennon indulged his rocky side, while “Mind Games”, “Only People” and “Bring On The Lucie (Freda Peeple)” espoused a deeper, personal philosophy. Although Lennon and Yoko were getting into magical thinking – astrology and the I-Ching – Lennon retained his legendary sense of humour: “Nutopian National Anthem”, written for Yoko and Lennon’s imaginary country of Nutopia, was a couple of seconds of complete silence.
“I can sum up those sessions in a single word: fun,” says bassist Gordon Edwards. “It was so loose, you know? This was like coming home to a party. You just sat down and he’d make you feel loose, even though this was John Lennon. He picked us out of the hundreds of musicians he could have worked with and that’s something that helps you feel good about yourself. From day one, he was a professional. From day two, he walked in just like everybody else in
