John Lennon – Power to the People Review

In the immediate aftermath of The Beatles’ split, John Lennon turned to provocative works. He appeared nude on his solo album debut and became a political protest voice for the rest of his life. Even when he removed himself from the bed-in or critically acclaimed Christmas songs, the image of Lennon as an articulate thinker was present. It is still not enough for him to beat Paul McCartney’s domestic bliss, but it was a different avenue all the same. Power to the People, one of Lennon’s earliest solo singles, features a very different range of sound from the avant-garde noises of his first two, Yoko Ono-featuring albums. Whether the earnestness of Lennon appearing as a spokesman for the working-class or unfortunately overlooked social strife survives is up to historical context, but also whether you find his political commentary clear and not filled with the sort of dissonance which kept him relevant.  

A sincere interest in pursuing a political purpose is what Power to the People provides. Power to the People is a “quickie,” Lennon says. A burst of words in response to an interview between Tariq Ali and Robin Blackburn. This sort of reactionary writing would be popularised in everyday print in the modern day, but for a time, in the right hands, it was definitive. Revolutionary, even. With some saxophone work which Lennon would lean into further on his Walls and Bridges release, the flow of Power to the People relies solely on uniting the people. That is power. Unity. It feels like an obvious comment but at the time of its release, Power to the People heard a major name referencing the troubles of the world. Irrespective of his shortcomings as a writer during this early stage of his career, Power to the People remains one of Lennon’s earliest sparks of brilliance.  

That is not to say it is a masterclass, with its overproduced early-1970s-like Leonard Cohen sound a tad overwhelming. The Phil Spector production effect in motion, most definitely. The titular repetition is not the most startling suggestion, either. It is a mantra which has been around long before and after Lennon’s cultural influence, and to hear him adapt it, align it with his views of the world, is dangerous territory. He gets through it, though, with a solid and straight-shooting, albeit repetitive, adaptation of the four words of power. What does not help is the instrumental range and gospel-like backing singers, which add a much-needed depth to the song but a loose pop feeling to it. B-side Open Your Box is a revealing addition not for what Yoko Ono does, but how Lennon was using pop music as a Trojan horse for avant-garde, Velvet Underground-sounding instrumentals.  

Ono’s shaky and strange-sounding voice is a far more interesting experience than the repetitive pop regurgitation of working-class mantra, anyway. The instrumental underneath those vocal inflexions from Ono is, like the A-side, repetitive but serviceable. An out-there element, the surprise of music quite unlike anything else, or at least the self-belief that it was unique, is what forms Power to the People. Lennon managed to stay relevant as an artist by latching to this political issue or that commentary. Whether he served the message or used it as a vessel to smuggle Plastic Ono Band songs into the homes of millions, we may never know. Power to the People, however, walks a very fine line between genuine interest in a political strife Lennon would continually write of, and a self-serving need to be in the spotlight.