X . CONDICIONES FACULTATIVAS X.1 Coordinador de seguridad y salud

THE MUSIC OF

JAMES

BOND

104

more and more diffi cult to write, because it’s a kind of formula. Trying to move around within that same formula gets more diffi cult. My least favorite scores are the recent Bond scores, because they are really like second-hand Gold-

fi ngers. It’s a trap, and I don’t know how to get out of it, really.”

The next fi lm was to be Live and Let Die, which would cash in on the new blaxploitation fi lm craze with a black villain, a plot involving voodoo, and set- tings in Harlem, New Orleans and the Caribbean. Roger Moore, once The

Saint and more recently Lord Brett Sinclair of The Persuaders! was announced

as the new James Bond in August 1972, and Guy Hamilton was once again recruited to direct. Saltzman, who by now was alternating with Broccoli as primary producer on the Bonds, would be in charge of Live and Let Die; this was another likely factor in the apparently mutual decision for Barry to leave the franchise. As Barry told writer Cary Bates in 1972: “You know, I’m not doing them anymore.” He didn’t sound bitter, Bates said; “he just sounded like it was a fait accompli.”

Enter Ron Kass. In 1968 the American-born music executive ran the Bea- tles’s label Apple Records; in 1969 he took over as president of MGM Rec- ords and its publishing subsidiary; and in 1970, he became vice president of Edgar Bronfman’s Sagittarius Productions. In the summer of 1971, Harry Saltzman named him managing director of CDF Ltd., Saltzman’s non-Bond fi lm production company; later he also ran Hilary Music, Saltzman’s music- publishing company (named after the producer’s daughter). Kass also hap- pened to be married to Joan Collins, who was not only Goldfi nger lyricist Anthony Newley’s ex-wife but also very close with the new 007, Roger Moore.

With Barry unavailable for Live and Let Die, Kass pulled off a major musi- cal coup using his long-established London music connections: he asked his old Apple Records pal Paul McCartney if he’d like to take a shot at writing the theme for the next Bond fi lm.

“If you’re the kind of writer I am,” McCartney later said, “it’s always one of those little ambitions: do the Bond song.”

McCartney, who was then in the midst of recording Red Rose Speedway, the second album from his band Wings, got a copy of the Fleming novel and reportedly read it on a Saturday, probably in late September or early October 1972. “It’s a very fast read,” McCartney later told England’s Mojo magazine. “On the Sunday, I sat down and thought, OK, the hardest thing to do here is to work in that title. . . . So I thought, ‘live and let die,’ really what they mean is ‘live and let live’ and there’s the switch. So I came at it from the very obvi- ous angle. I just thought, ‘when you were younger you used to say that, but now you say this.’”

McCartney’s wife Linda came up with the midsection of the tune, the reggae-style “what does it matter to you . . .” but Paul made the most critical call of all: to George Martin, his former Beatles producer and a veteran of tai- loring rock songs for fi lm. Not only had Martin received an Oscar nomination for adapting the Beatles songs into the score for A Hard Day’s Night (1964) but he had also done the lion’s share of the work on The Family Way (1966), a

drama with Hayley Mills for which McCartney, in a rare non-Beatles assign- ment at the time, had written the theme. Martin adapted McCartney’s ideas into a full score for the Boulting Brothers fi lm.

“Paul contacted me to say he wanted to make a demo of a song he had in mind for a Bond fi lm,” Sir George Martin later recalled. “I went to his house in St. John’s Wood and he played me his ideas on the piano, but when he de- scribed what he wanted it was obvious that a large orchestra would be neces- sary. In those days synthesizers and computer effects were in their infancy, and nothing could beat the sound of a large orchestra.”

At Martin’s AIR studios, “we started by using Paul’s band, and I used Paul, Linda and Eric Stewart to sing backup vocals. I then went away and wrote the score for overlaying, using about 55 musicians. Some demo! That became the fi nal version; I could not make it any better,” Martin said. He also double-tracked McCartney’s voice although, as Martin later said, “Paul does it so accurately that it almost sounds like a single voice, though it still gives a stronger and better sound.”

“Live and Let Die” begins quietly, with just McCartney singing and play- ing piano, but he demonstrates a fl air for the dramatic just over half a minute

Linda and Paul McCartney at the governor’s ball following the Academy Awards at which their “Live and Let Die” was performed (courtesy Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences)

THE MUSIC OF

JAMES

BOND

106

into the song, not just with the title phrase but with half a minute of in- strumental pyrotechnics that might prove useful for the inevitable action sequences. On October 24, Daily Variety announced that “Paul and Linda McCartney have composed and recorded title theme tune for the James Bond pic . . . now before cameras in New Orleans.”

Kass and Broccoli took Martin to lunch in London, “since they had been impressed by the orchestration on the record,” Martin later remembered. Lunch, however, was merely a prelude to one of Martin’s most memorable and jaw-dropping producer conversations, as he was then asked to fl y to Jamaica, where Saltzman was overseeing production in November and December.

As Martin recalled, Saltzman professed to like the McCartney song. “Very nice record. Like the score. Now tell me, who do you think we should get to sing it?”

Martin was taken “completely aback” by the question. “After all, he was holding the Paul McCartney recording we had made. . . . But he was clearly treating it as a demo disc.” It was obvious that Saltzman had no idea how important the ex-Beatle was in the music world and what impact a McCartney theme might have, both creatively and commercially, on a Bond fi lm.

“What do you think of Thelma Houston?” Saltzman asked Martin, appar- ently thinking in terms of a black female artist for the fi lm. “Well, she’s very good,” Martin replied diplomatically, “but I don’t see that it’s necessary when you’ve got Paul McCartney.”

Composer George Martin (courtesy of The Film Music Society)

LIVE AND LET DIE

107

Martin was forced to explain, as gently as possible, that McCartney “was the ideal choice, even if he wasn’t a black lady, and that secondly, if Paul’s recording wasn’t used as the title song, it was very doubtful whether Paul would let him use the song for his fi lm anyway.” Ultimately, and to the relief of all concerned, Saltzman fi nally agreed, perhaps because director Guy Hamilton advised him about McCartney’s stature. “Harry said, ‘What do you think?’ and I said, ‘It’s not exactly my bag, but coming from Paul McCartney, one would be absolutely idiotic not to use it.’”

Shooting had already begun in New Orleans in mid-October and a key number had already been recorded. In the story, Kananga (Yaphet Kotto), the dictator of the Caribbean island nation San Monique, is also Mr. Big, a drug kingpin; his girlfriend is Solitaire (Jane Seymour), a tarot-card reader whose virginity is the key to her ability to see the future. Bond visits New York, New Orleans and San Monique to investigate, along the way encountering croco- diles, killer snakes and voodoo ceremonies.

The precredits sequence involved a traditional New Orleans funeral, with a brass band playing “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” as the mourners marched through the streets, then breaking into a lively Dixieland number after a bi- zarre murder is committed (one of the cleverer moments of Tom Mankiewicz’s

THE MUSIC OF

JAMES

BOND

108

screenplay). Lending an air of authenticity was Harold Dejan’s Olympia Brass Band, which regularly played at the legendary Preservation Hall in New Or- leans. Their arrangement of “Just a Closer Walk,” and the jazzy “New Second Line,” were penned by trumpeter Milton Batiste, a fi xture on the Big Easy music scene for decades. These scenes were shot on Chartres Street on Octo- ber 26 and November 9, 1972.

The Jamaica portion of the shoot began on November 14. “I started work on the fi lm when I was with Harry in Jamaica,” Martin later recalled. “He asked me to provide a rhythm beat for the voodoo scene with the snake. The crowd needed to move together with a beat that could be enlarged later. So I stayed on for about a week,” Martin said. The scene in question, shot on No- vember 25 at Ocho Rios on the island’s northern coast, marked a return visit for many of the Bond crew, as that was the site of shooting for Dr. No a decade earlier.

W ith the McCartney song accepted and Martin now on board, it was up to Ron Kass to make the deal for both musicians. Perhaps predictably, it turned out to be more in McCartney’s favor than Martin’s, even though McCartney’s tune was three minutes long and Martin would contribute nearly an hour’s worth of music to the fi nal product.

It all hinged on Barry’s fee for composing Diamonds. An undated memo from Kass to Saltzman, probably from October 1972, specifi es “Paul McCart- ney is to be paid $15,000 for composing the title song. In addition, his father- in-law Lee Eastman has said he would be agreeable to splitting the music publishing with the administration of the publishing in the hands of United Artists. . . . Since John Barry was paid $25,000 for Diamonds Are Forever, the $15,000 fee was negotiated in order to leave an amount of $10,000 to pay for the additional scoring necessary, as well as the arranging and conducting services.”

S C O R E H I G H L I G H T S

More than any James Bond fi lm to that point, Live

and Let Die refl ects something of a modern rock

sensibility, partly due to the McCartney theme, but also to George Martin’s long history of working with rock artists. There is a harder edge to much of the score, from the rougher, grittier “Bond Theme” sound to the authentic soul sounds of the Fillet of Soul clubs in New Orleans and Harlem.

After the brief United Nations opening, when we meet Kananga and Solitaire for the fi rst time, the scene shifts (at about 2 minutes into the fi lm) to New Orleans for the jazz funeral of one agent (“Just a Closer Walk With Thee” and “New Second Line”) and then to the Caribbean island nation of San Monique (4 minutes in) where the insistent rhythms of voodoo drummers is soon enhanced by Martin’s

LIVE AND LET DIE

109

The most interesting aspect of Kass’s two-page memo indicates that “The Fifth Dimension will perform a version of the title song in a live performance in the Fillet of Soul scene. Paul McCartney has agreed to produce the Fifth Dimension’s performance. The original soundtrack album will be an extremely commercial package composing of Paul McCartney as composer, performer and producer, as well as the Fifth Dimension, who have had many number one records, and Wings, McCartney’s musical group.”

The Fifth Dimension had actually had two number-one hits in the United States: “Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine In” and “Wedding Bell Blues,” both in 1969, and fi ve other top-10 hits, including “Up, Up and Away” and “One Less Bell to Answer.” Kass noted that “we are negotiating with Marc Gordon, man- ager of the Fifth Dimension, for a fee which would include recording as well as the performance on the screen.” For either business or creative reasons, the deal fell through and the Fifth Dimension did not perform the song, either in the fi lm or later on records.

Instead, a little-known artist named Brenda Arnau (known professionally at the time as B. J. Arnau) was signed to sing “Live and Let Die” in the New Orleans Fillet of Soul nightclub sequence. She had appeared, uncredited, in the fi lm musical Finian’s Rainbow and released several singles on various labels that went nowhere. Eventually she wound up in the London cast of Oh!

Calcutta! and snagged the Bond gig, about the time she also landed an RCA

record contract.

Martin, not McCartney, produced and arranged Arnau’s version of the title song. He later said he never knew about plans for the Fifth Dimension. “I ar- ranged the Brenda Arnau version later as a matter of course,” he said. “Brenda was good, and easy to work with. We did the session pretty quickly without any dramas.” Arnau’s on-camera scenes, in which she lip-syncs to the track she recorded with Martin, were fi lmed at Pinewood on January 31 and February 1,

“Day in the Life”-style string section, as a second agent succumbs.

Maurice Binder’s colorful title sequence (almost 5 minutes in) is among the most spectacular in the entire Bond series. His crimson-fl ame torches and naked black women whose heads explode into fl aming skulls brilliantly showcase the McCartney theme. Musically, McCartney’s style was so radi- cally different from prior 007 themes that, in 1973, it was a jarring listen (the sophomoric “you know you did, you know you did, you know you did,” the reg- gae-style midsection, the naggingly problematic line “in which we live in”). But time has proven its durability—and McCartney still does it in concert, with wild lights and pyrotechnics, to the cheers of a whole new generation of listeners.

Martin introduces Solitaire’s theme (12 minutes in), as the mystic predicts Bond’s arrival in New York; it’s heard again as the opening of the fi rst big action scene (14 minutes), as Bond’s driver is killed by Kananga henchman Whisper and a Manhattan car chase ensues. Martin uses the bass line of the Bond theme but otherwise heightens the suspense with the rhythm section and eventually the full or- chestra (like Barry, Martin did not title his cues; on the album, the piece is called “Whisper Who Dares”).

Martin’s arrangement of the “James Bond Theme” appears (20 minutes) as Bond hails a cab and heads for Harlem; it’s hard-hitting, with shrill piccolos adding a fresh touch. Inside the Fillet of Soul bar, the Solitaire theme returns (23 minutes) as Bond introduces himself (“Bond Meets Solitaire” on

Trade advertisement promoting singer B. J. Arnau and her song in Live and Let Die (courtesy of The Film Music Society)

LIVE AND LET DIE

111

1973. RCA, which released her version as a single at the end of June, took out trade ads carefully touting Arnau as “the only one who sings it and appears in the new James Bond thriller.” Although neither the Arnau single nor album charted, she went on to major success on the London stage that summer with rave reviews for her work in the rock-music version of Shakespeare’s Two

Gentlemen of Verona. (Broccoli was an unabashed fan of Arnau, stating in a

May 1973 memo to UA that “she really is a star” and using her sizzling “Live and Let Die” performance in the coming-attraction trailers for the fi lm.)

After Moore fi nished shooting Live and Let Die in March, he invited Kass and wife Joan Collins, as well as fellow show-biz pal (and earlier Bond lyri- cist) Leslie Bricusse, to vacation with him in Acapulco. That same year, Kass hired Martin to oversee the scoring of the Peter Sellers fi lm The Optimists, with songs by Lionel Bart; and in October 1973, a few months after the open- ing of the Bond fi lm, Kass returned to the record business as managing direc- tor of Warner Bros. Records in Great Britain.

As for the score, Martin remembered calling his old EMI colleague John Barry “and kind of apologized for taking over. He was a good friend and had no problems. I heard about the row he had with Saltzman, and his advice to me was, ‘Just screw ’em for me, would you?’”

The blaxploitation trend of the time, including the success of such soul- driven soundtracks as Shaft and Superfl y, was not an infl uence, Martin said: “I just wanted to make as dynamic a sound as I could without losing the Bond feel. It was a long job, and I was given four weeks before I had to start record- ing. My speed of fi tting and scoring for a large orchestra was about two min- utes per day, so I had to work it all out to get the job done.” He conducted an orchestra of “around 55” at his own AIR studios in the late spring of 1973.

Martin found director Hamilton “a very easy man to work with. . . . He was always very concise in his specifi cations and his brief. He would tell me

the LP) and meets the hook-wearing, gun-twisting Tee Hee before Mr. Big orders Bond’s execution.

The wonderful Geoffrey Holder, as the mysteri- ous white-top-hatted Baron Samedi (“the man who cannot die”), makes his fi rst appearance (28 min- utes) as a dancer leading a troupe of entertainers on San Monique (the brassy number “Baron Samedi’s Dance of Death”). Jazzy source music in Bond’s hotel room (30 minutes, “San Monique” on the LP) quickly gives way to a queasy-sounding string cue as a deadly snake slithers into Bond’s bathroom (32 minutes, “Snakes Alive”) and the malevolent Whis- per enters (the Bond bass line coupled with the Solitaire theme).

The McCartney theme returns (39 minutes) for the fi rst time since the opening titles as a jazzy, Ca- ribbean scene-setting cue, then again (44 minutes)

as CIA agent Rosie spots a voodoo symbol, runs into the jungle and is killed. For Bond’s descent via parasail into Kananga’s fortress (48 minutes, “Bond Drops In”), Martin offers an appropriately descend- ing string line. Once again, the rhythm section is particularly strong, with a prominent part for harp- sichord. Bond seduces Solitaire (50 minutes) to a variation on McCartney’s theme. Escaping into the jungle, they encounter Baron Samedi playing a wood fl ute in a cemetery (55 minutes), which serves as a prelude to a big orchestral buildup (“If He Finds It, Kill Him”) when Bond fi nds the vast poppy fi elds that are the source of Kananga’s ill-gotten wealth.

Bond’s double-decker bus chase is unscored until he runs into the low bridge (1 hour), shears off its top half and reaches the boat, for which Martin again uses the McCartney instrumental bridge; this,

(SCORE HIGHLIGHTS, CONT

THE MUSIC OF

JAMES

BOND

112

exactly where he wanted the music, and the kind of effect he wanted from it.”