Open your heart and the work of Ringo Starr becomes very likeable. Goodnight Vienna holds its own. It’s not a masterclass but there are more than a few moments that highlight just how great Starr is when he kicks around with a fun tone. A lighter spin on darker subject matter like The No No Song is a stellar example of what The Beatles’ drummer could do alone in the studio. Ringo’s Rotogravure, the follow-up to Goodnight Vienna, loses sight of that explorative tone. From country to cooky little numbers on drink and drugs, Starr is at his best when pursuing his interests in genres that had been unavailable to him while a member of the Fab Four. Ringo’s Rotogravure has only a trace of that and therefore has just a trace of what held his previous albums together. Absent from Spotify, presumably because the same shame that overcame Bev Bevan post-Electric Light Orchestra is at play, Ringo’s Rotogravure is worth hunting down.
Little moments are what makes Ringo’s Rotogravure worth listening to. Opening song A Dose of Rock ‘n’ Roll is fine enough. Not a staggering achievement but by no means unlistenable. It sounds a little too similar to follow-up track, Hey Baby. A cover of the Bruce Channel classic is perhaps a little on the nose for Starr, who shares with his listeners the lead letdown for Ringo’s Rotogravure with a glee unbecoming for tacky cover songs. Light and breezy has always been what Starr offers on his albums. It’s no different for the likes of Pure Gold, hardly worth its weight but sweet enough. Why Starr decided to shift from the solid blend of covers and originals on Goodnight Vienna to a collection of songs written up by his musician friends, presumably because they didn’t like the song enough to feature it on their own work, is peculiar.
Ringo’s Rotogravure is an excuse for Starr to play around in the studio with his friends. Everyone from Peter Frampton and Paul McCartney to Dr. John and John Lennon show up for this one. It’s a light project. Starr embodies the need for fun in the creative process, and while it may have been a joyous time in the studio, very little of that feeling is bottled up by the finished tracks. You Don’t Know Me at All is a little gem of a song though, the Dave Jordan track is given some sweet, baroque-like pops to it here. Each of Starr’s bandmates from The Beatles contributes a song here. None of them stand out all that much, though. Not even George Harrison’s I’ll Still Love You, a cover the so-called quiet one disliked so much he almost sued Starr, is a standout.
Nothing on this album stands out, though. A side effect of compiling covers and songs written outside of the studio. Ringo’s Rotogravure hasn’t the high speeds suggested by the title but it certainly prints songs that should be effective, chart-friendly pieces. It’s a mess of genres, from the mariachi stylings of Las Brisas to Starr half-heartedly scratching his itch for classic rock and roll with A-side covers. Lady Gaye is a nice, latter-stage track which doesn’t quite offer much other than a forgettably good time. Ringo’s Rotogravure, at its very best, can offer that. You would be hard-pressed to ask for much more from this album, a surprising mess with a few moments that shine a light on just how fun Starr can be. Or at least, how much enjoyment there can be with his work when he’s not restricted by palling around in the studio.
