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"When molecules rise, they converge" Yoko Ono about the album in the liner notes: "The making of the album served as a purging of my anger, pain and fear. I hope it will for you, too."
No matter how loud the crowd screams, Yoko Ono can scream louder. It's a Wednesday night at a sweltering sliver of a club called the Knitting Factory, in New York. Onstage, Ono, 62, is part per- formance artist, part rock-and-roller. To her right stands Sean Ono Lennon, 20, her guitarist, keyboardist and son, his hair waterfalling down his back. Lennon leads a hard-charging trio called IMA, at one point trading otherworldly warbles with his mother. The crowd cheers, shouting song titles from the days when Ono performed with a Lennon named John. The show's a success, though before this tour began, Sean had no idea how he and his mother would go over. "I thought people might walk out," he says. "We're not trying to conform to any pop standard. We're just doing the Yoko thing. It's totally, full-on Yoko." For 30 years, Ono's music has been an acquired taste that's famously difficult to acquire. The album she's recorded with IMA, "Rising," is replete with screeches, growls and heavy breathing. You hate it already, right? Not so fast. Thanks to the guys in the band--on tourTimo Ellis plays bass and Russell Simins plays drums--it's also a surprisingly dextrous rock album, alternately fierce and moving. For Ono, "Rising" is something of a comeback. It's the first album she's made in 11 years--years largely spent running the Lennon estate. (Where was John's "Sgt. Pepper" outfit before you loaned it to the Hall of Fame? "It was here." In a closet? "Yes." You weren't worried about moths? "It was well taken care of.") For her son, "Rising" is a step into the public eye: "I've always been kind of scared of playing music. It's impossible for anyone to listen to me objectively--it's impossible for me, sometimes. I watched [half-brother Julian] go through hell, and it instilled a lot of fear in me." For both mother and son, "Rising" is also a labor of love. It's the ballad of Sean and Yoko. (--) The "Rising" tour--which winds up with shows in L.A., San Francisco and Seattle this week--may also be Ono's gentle way of nudging Lennon into the world. She has had a few misgivings. "When people say to Sean, 'How could you do this with your mother?,' I feel a little pang. Does he feel embarrassed? Is this intimidating for him?I didn't want to mess up his debut." She certainly hasn't. "I feel like I won an all-expense-paid trip to Hawaii," Lennon says, beaming. "You know what I mean? 'Go on tour with Yoko Ono! Play sold-out shows to loving audiences!' I'm so proud to be playing this music. Russell and I were joking: 'We're bringing Yoko to the people!' And it's true. I'm just so psyched to bring Yoko to the people."
Ono credits Sean for getting her back on the road. They released a well-reviewed disc last fall, "Rising," which had some tender, spoken-word ballads about staying positive in a mad world, but also some punky tracks with wailing, out-there vocal improvisations harking back to the Plastic Ono Band. The disc showed why Ono has been dubbed a punk icon. It deserved the support of a tour, especially since it didn't get much airplay from radio stations that, typically, didn't know what to do with her music. "Sean and the band really wanted me to go out on tour," said Ono, now 63. "They said `Let's go,' and I said, `Well, OK,' but it turned out to be very OK. And of course I'm a macho mother. I didn't want to say, `No, Mommy is scared.' I didn't want to back out." Hence, Ono is on her first-ever club tour. "It's been great. When you're in a small space, you communicate better. I remember once seeing Chekhov's `Cherry Orchard' in a small New York theater. When the play was going on, it felt like I was in the same room. It was an incredibly powerful feeling. And that's how I feel when I'm doing this show." To be honest, Ono never planned
to be on tour. "These are just happenings," she said with a chuckle.
"It's not like I said in 1995 that I was going to have a record out, and
then in 1996 that I was going to tour. It didn't come out that way. It happened
in a very coincidental way, which is nice, because I think coincidences are better
than planning." "Still, I thought, `I'm not going to put
out this track because I don't want the whole world to think that I'm dying.'
But as if he read my mind, Sean came to me and said, `You have to put this one
on the record, Mommy, because we're all dying every day.' That's the kind of role
that Sean plays. Sean is not just a musician, not just a bandleader. He is somebody
who gives me encouragement on an uncanny level. We didn't have to discuss it very
much. He knew what I was thinking." The song was meant as advice to the guitar-playing Sean, who was late to the studio when it was made. "I'm very strict about musicians coming on time," said Ono. "I try to tell Sean how precious studio time is. But that day he came a bit late. He looked like he had a rough night, you know ... In the song I was just kind of speaking to him in a way to shake him up."
| ![]() Yoko Ono & IMA. Capitol Records promotional image | ||