Credits: covermesongs.com

Album: The Beatles
Released: 22 November 1968

[Picture: The John Kelly portrait inserts as found inside the album, taken in the autumn of 1968. Kelly states that he took the portraits of John, George and Ringo at their new Apple Corps offices in Savile Row, while Paul’s picture was taken at his home in Cavendish Avenue.]

On a more personal note: I believe this was the last album I bought to complete my Beatles album collection. I had nearly every other US release, including Beatles ’65 which I found in the wrong cover (it was hidden inside a copy of the US Hey Jude compilation that I bought for fifty cents somewhere). The first copy of The Beatles I had was only the second disc, found for a dollar sans cover at a tag sale on the Templeton MA commons. I picked a new copy up probably a few months or a year later at the local department store, so in that interim, I got to know the ‘weirder half’ of this album before I’d heard the more straightforward former half. I only knew a few tracks at that point–“Back in the USSR”, “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” and “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” are featured on the 1967-1970 compilation–so hearing them in their proper context was a rather interesting experience.

In addition to that, since I was by then familiar with the Blue Album compilation, it took me a bit of time to get used to hearing those tracks in their proper chronological order. They are in fact so, but I was unaware until much later that “Hey Jude” and “Revolution”, found before the three above songs, were recorded during the same sessions as the album. More so were the singles that appeared after the White Album tracks on that compilation–“Get Back”, “Don’t Let Me Down”, “The Ballad of John & Yoko” and “Old Brown Shoe” showing up before the Abbey Road and Let It Be tracks. While these four tracks weren’t recorded during sessions for The Beatles, they were recorded and released in early 1969, before either of those later albums were released. Even though I would quickly become familiar with and prefer their late 60s output, it was also the era that I knew about least in terms of the band’s history. It was because of this that my Beatles collecting would soon branch into the numerous books that are out there.

Given that pretty much anyone can write about the band at this point, what with the ridiculous amount of information and resources out there to do so, I did pick up a few that were of some help such as Nicholas Shaffner’s The Beatles Forever, and a great book about Beatles bootlegs by Charles Reinhart called You Can’t Do That (this is the book that made me hunger for all the unreleased stuff, even if it was mostly subpar). There’s a lot of chaff and a lot of repeated info–not to mention a lot of contradictory info–that can be found in these. It wasn’t until the late 90s that I came across Mark Lewisohn’s The Beatles Recording Sessions that I knew I’d hit paydirt–this book, along with his The Complete Beatles Chronicles released soon after, are absolutely brilliant tomes about the band’s whereabouts as well as the major details of what was recorded, and when and how it evolved. Lewisohn could be considered the premier Beatles chronologist, as he is one of the very few who have talked with all four members exclusively about their history, not to mention that he’s also one of the extremely rare few who were given carte blanche on all their session tapes. I’ve been using these two books almost exclusively during this blog series, and they are highly recommended for any Beatles fan who doesn’t own them already. He’s due to release a new book series called The Beatles: All These Years that I am eagerly awaiting.

So without further ado…

Side C

Here’s where the band has, for the most part, put away their acoustic guitars (save for a few remaining tracks) and turned up the volume. From here on in, we’re going to hear a harder, edgier band putting down some of the rawest tracks of their career.

Track 1: Birthday
This track seems to have been inspired by the spirit of rock and roll, come to think of it. On paper it’s a simple blues riff in A that Paul made up right there in the studio along with simple celebratory lyrics, but the band simply bashed the hell out of it on 18 September. It just so happened that on that night, the band stopped recording halfway through so they could skip over to Paul’s house in Cavendish Avenue (roughly about a quarter mile away and a quick walk) so they could watch the television premiere of the classic 1956 rock movie The Girl Can’t Help It. It must have stirred some memories of their early days starting out, as you can hear the wild party atmosphere they subsequently laid down on this track. Paul and John share dual duty on lead guitar here with George playing bass, and Ringo hammering away on his kit. Paul delivers one of his strongest, loudest vocals since “Long Tall Sally” here. Overdubs include piano backing by Paul, backing vocals from John, Paul and George along with Pattie Harrison and Yoko Ono, and handclaps by everyone involved (including Mal Evans).

It may be a simple blues riff indeed, but it’s one hell of a powerhouse, and still gets heavy play on classic rock radio. It was even referenced in John Hughes’ teenage romp Sixteen Candles (Anthony Michael Hall riffs on it briefly during a scene). It’s even been known to be played and/or sung in lieu of the old standard “Happy Birthday” at certain birthday parties at this point!

Track 2: Yer Blues
One of the most peculiar sessions for this project, and for the band itself, took place on 12 August in a small annex upstairs off the Studio Two control room at Abbey Road. The room itself was actually a large store room that contained various bits and bobs used for recording, which were quickly moved to insert the foursome and the barest of instrumentation. With just John and George on lead, Paul on bass, and Ringo on drums, this track went through fourteen takes (three additional “takes” were actually reductions of previous takes to be used for final editing) and captures the band laying down some fierce blues riffs. John wrote this as sort of a parody of the British blues scene as well as Dylan’s more obtuse lyrics, but on its own it’s a fantastic piece. It’s raw and dirty, it’s sloppy and there’s a horrible edit at 3:17 in, but it’s the band at their live best; even Ringo has mentioned that this session reminded him of their early Hamburg days.

Track 3: Mother Nature’s Son
Paul features on a third solo track here, recorded on 9 August after the rest of the band had gone home for the evening (they’d been working on George’s “Not Guilty” for the last few days, still unhappy with the results). Recorded in one evening in twenty-five takes (number 24 being the best), it featured Paul primarily on guitar, later overdubbing himself on second guitar and minimal drums, and George Martin adding brass to the latter half of the song. With lyrics inspired by one of the Maharishi’s lectures they sat in on while in India, it’s an absolutely gorgeous pastoral track unlike any of the other acoustic-based songs on the album. Paul’s guitar work here is simple yet effective, though the guitar countermelody he uses in the solo starting at 2:12 is breathtaking. Interestingly, this track would fit quite nicely on Paul’s first solo album, McCartney, which would be released a year and a half later, so this track could also be seen as Paul’s true venture into his own sound apart from the band.

The history of the track, however, does carry a downside: during the overdub session on 20 August (the same day he recorded “Wild Honey Pie” alone), he was working solo with Martin, when John and Ringo stopped by for a few minutes while working on finishing up “Yer Blues”. John apparently could not stand when Paul worked alone without the rest of the band, and per engineer Ken Scott, ‘you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.’ It would be one of many moments that would eventually cause an irreparable rift within the band. [Taking this event objectively, neither party is solely to blame. Paul was often impatient, especially when he wanted to try something new and fun, and would often go off and try it by himself. John, on the other hand, could be extremely jealous at times and was often frustrated by Paul’s distractions, making him feel he was not fully in charge.]

Track 4: Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey
It’s quite hazy what this song is really about…it could be a reference to one of the Maharishi’s lectures that mentioned “everybody’s got something to hide…”; it could be about John and Yoko’s budding relationship, in which he felt they had nothing to hide but everyone else felt paranoid; it could even be about his growing drug dependency and his slow fall into heroin addiction. Either way, this track from 27 June is quite a wild ride. Playing with their normal lineup here (John on rhythm, George on lead, Paul on bass, Ringo on drums), they manage to lay down a hell of a lot of noise with the overdubs (handclaps by all, and a hand bell played by Paul within an inch of its life).  The song is relatively simple, though the bare intro of guitar and drums is played off-beat to catch you off guard.

Track 5: Sexy Sadie
John’s departure from India had not been a peaceful one. Depending on who you ask (and which biography you read), he was either bored and/or disappointed in what the Maharishi had to offer and was looking for a way out, or he left in disgust as rumors began building that the Maharishi had sexually assaulted some of the female guests. Either way, the man had not risen to John’s admittedly heightened expectations, and eventually he wrote a song about his disappointment. It was never recorded or even rehearsed in this form, of course, though on 19 July when they started recording this track, there is a brief passage on the tapes where John shows Paul the original opening lines, starting with “Maharishi, you little twat…” Suffice it to say, he chose to be the better man and made the lyrics more obscure, focusing on a fictional woman disappointing him instead.  The bitterness is still quite present, however.

Track 6: Helter Skelter
In late 1967, Pete Townshend had sold up the Who’s latest single, “I Can See for Miles” , as ‘the loudest, rawest, dirtiest song [the band] had ever recorded.’ The Beatles, of course, always took such bravado as a personal challenge; they’d done so with Sgt Pepper as a response to the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, among other things. This time out, Paul took the bait and wrote the loudest, rawest, dirtiest song they’d ever recorded. Partly a response to growing comments that he always wrote ballads, Paul set out to write the most sinister song he could.  The phrase “helter-skelter” itself is British slang for a chaotic mess, but it’s also the name of an amusement park slide; using the double meaning as a metaphor, the lyrics alongside the noise give the sense that he’s not just warning us of impending chaos, he’s reveling in it.

The recording history on this track is fascinating as well: The first three takes on 18 July were all of epic length: Take 1 was 10:40, Take 2 was 12:35, and Take 3 was a phenomenal 27:11. At this point the song was nowhere near as loud and cacophonous–an edit of the slow, bluesy Take 2 can be found on Anthology 3–but the dark and sinister feeling was definitely present. It wasn’t until 9 September that they tried again and came up with a much shorter but much louder end result with Take 21. Paul is on lead here, with John on bass and George on rhythm. They play so damn hard on this take that, in the last minute or so of the song, it’s clear that their guitars have gone distressingly out of tune, which only adds to the insanity. This was also the final take with Ringo, exhausted and in pain, finally screaming out the iconic “I’ve got blisters on my fingers!!!” at the end of the take. Overdubs containing vocals, handclaps, and Mal Evans creating even more noise with blurts of a trumpet were added the next day, and the final version is possibly one of the scariest songs by any band at that time.

Track 7: Long, Long, Long
Not a second goes by after the last crash of Ringo’s drums on the previous track as we’re dropped into one of the quietest tracks the band ever recorded. Often considered one of George’s most underrated songs, it’s a lovely ballad in a very slow 6/8 time that contains some really fine dynamics. The verses as well as the music contained therein are always delivered quietly and plainly on guitar and Hammond organ, sometimes with beautiful harmony added here and there, and counterbalanced with loud crashing fills from Ringo at the end of each line. The bridge (“So many tears I was searching…”), built up via a stuttering tense drum fill and interestingly underscored by George’s guitar, is an exclamation of emotion; it’s George stating what he had gone through before finally finding love in the person (or deity?) the song is about. He calms down briefly, delivering another few words of devotion. After the final heartfelt “oh, I love you…”, it lands on a quiet C note. What happens next is unexpected and interesting: during this session, the low C that Paul happened to hit on the organ just happened to resonate the bottle of Blue Nun wine sitting on top of it. Fascinated by this unexpected bit of physics, they tried it again and inserted it at the end, creating a coda invoking a swirling chaos of spirit released. Lastly, it ends on an unresolved, sighing D-minor chord–the energy may have seeped away, but that one chord hints that there could have been more. A lovely end to the song, and to the third side of the album.

* * *

By this time we’ve been brought to heraldic highs, demonic lows, and everywhere in between on this album. The listener has either become wary, thinking the Fab Four had finally gone off the deep end and recorded the equivalent of navel-gazing prog rock, or they’ve become fascinated by the sheer breadth and magnitude of their work. They somehow pulled it off on these three sides, with maybe a few fillers but nary a song that falls completely flat. So how the heck are they going to tie this all together? What could they possibly give the listener on the final side?

Next Up: The Beatles, Side D

Credits: thewhitealbumproject.com

Album: The Beatles
Released: 22 November 1968

[Picture: Inside the gatefold cover of the album. The left side contains the song listing, the right side contains smaller black-and-white images of the John Kelly portrait inserts.]

Production-wise, this album is quite fascinating as a whole. As I’d mentioned in the previous installment, a good portion of the songs had been written and planned out during or immediately after their trip to India, so the outcome was that many of these songs have an acoustic base to them. This leads to many of the tracks feeling deliberately sparse, not quite folk but not quite rock either. The remaining tracks were written either in-studio or in between studio time, and have a more complete and electric sound to them. This lets the entire collection of tracks play off each other, such as the switch from “Bungalow Bill” to “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. There’s also an emotional dichotomy going on as well, such as the playful “Martha My Dear” to the cranky “I’m So Tired”. There may have not been a specific theme going on here, but they were at least coming up with specific song ideas and working them through.

Once the band had recorded as many songs as they could for this project, they sat down and began the process of preparing the final mixes and working out the running order. There were a few arguments as to what would stay and what would go–George’s “Not Guilty” and John’s loopy “What’s the New Mary Jane?” would not officially see the light of day until Anthology 3 (though both were available for quite some time on bootlegs)–but eventually it was culled down to an even thirty tracks. The mono and stereo mixes were done separately, such as the previous albums. This would be the last album to do so, with all remaining albums and some singles being mixed only in stereo. Due to this procedure, a good handful of the mono tracks have distinct differences from their stereo counterparts; one fascinating example is the mono “Helter Skelter”, which contains more backing sound effects, but omits the final fade-in and “I’ve got blisters…” ending of the stereo version, and is nearly a minute shorter.

The running order, at least to me, is fascinating in that it starts relatively light with the one-two punch of “Back in the USSR” and “Dear Prudence”…only to start getting a little weird soon after. The album soon takes a dive–in a metaphorical sense–and becomes darker and stranger, its songs growing heavier and grittier, until we’re given the nightmare that is “Revolution 9”. Thankfully, we are pulled out of that nightmare soon after with the tender string ballad of “Good Night”, letting us know that everything’s all right in the end, even after all that. This running order was not done randomly, not in the least. In fact, the band had decided to lay down a few ground rules: George’s four compositions that passed the test were each put on one side each, Ringo’s two vocals were put on the second side of each record, the balance of John and Paul songs were to be as even as possible, ensuring that there were no more than two of their songs back to back. Other rules popped up as well: all three “animal” songs were put here on Side B; the loud and the soft songs were also to be as evenly spaced out to achieve balance; there were also to be minimal moments of silence in between the tracks.

All these rules might be hard to implement, but given the breadth of the songs they had on hand, it wasn’t as hard as it sounded. They were even able to segue certain songs either deliberately (John’s “‘eh-up!” at the end of “Bungalow Bill” signaling the start of “While My Guitar…”, or the cold ending of “Cry Baby Cry” switching to a brief unlisted Paul track often referred to as “Can You Take Me Back” which fades into the beginning of “Revolution 9”), or obliquely (the crash ending of “Helter Skelter” giving way to the quiet opening of “Long Long Long”).

For the casual music and/or Beatles fan, a listener might not notice such things, but for an avid music fan and one who understands the importance of segues and balances (such as one who makes mixtapes an artform, or the free-form disc jockey of yore), it’s a highly detailed and nuanced record. The initial reviews were understandably mixed when the album first came out, partly due to critics expecting another brilliant Sgt Pepper but also due to the fact that there’s so much here that it’s a bit hard to swallow in one sitting. Regardless, over the years it’s become a fan favorite and one that’s often studied and listened to over and over. One will always find something they hadn’t noticed before, or finally understand what the band was trying to do with a certain track or mix.

Side B

The second side of the album is probably the lightest of the four, given that there are quite a few acoustic-based tracks here. It’s also the side with the least number of songs normally heard on radio (and none that actually show up on post-breakup non-Anthology compilations) and thus probably the least recognized tracks for the casual listener. At the same time, there are a few very personal tracks here that are worth listening to, for quite varying reasons.

Track 1: Martha My Dear
It’s well-documented that the “Martha” in the title is the name of Paul’s sheepdog at the time, but the true subject of the song is apparently Jane Asher. Their relationship was pretty much at an end by the time this was recorded (started 4 October, close to the end of the sessions), but instead of the dynamics of the song matching his emotions, he chose instead to make the song as lighthearted as possible. The end result has his peppy and bouncy piano underscoring a much less positive lyric; the woman in the song is not so much vindictive as she is selfish and perhaps blissfully ignorant of it. In the end, the “be good to me” lyric isn’t a hope that she likes him too (such as their early lyrics)–it’s a plea to stop hurting him.

Musically it’s quite detailed; the song is in E-flat major, though there are liberal chord changes throughout the song, giving it a sense of restlessness. Also of note is the bridge (“Hold your head up, you silly girl…”) is in F major, one full step up, making it sound out of place, especially when the bridge’s end is an abrupt three-note phrase back to E-flat. One final note: this was one of a handful of tracks recorded at Trident House and not Abbey Road, which explains the difference in sound. The Beatles’ tracks at Abbey Road always had a deep, rich sound due to the studio’s original plan of recording orchestras; Trident’s sound tended to be a bit closer and with less natural reverberation, so this track definitely has a tighter feel aurally.

Track 2: I’m So Tired
John reveals his cantankerousness here with a song inspired by insomnia. After weeks in India away from Yoko and being unable to sleep, his natural inclination to write a song about it comes to the fore in a cranky-yet-fun blues track. The lyrics almost harken back to his early Beatles tracks of unrequited love, being unable to cope with his life because his love is far away; in this case, however, he’s revealed that he’s so far gone in love with this girl that it’s keeping him up at night. It’s one of John’s more emotional songs, and yet here he manages to keep everything in check, even when the emotion seeps out of the growing cracks.

Recorded the same night as “Bungalow Bill” (8 October), it’s both lethargic and full of energy at the same time, balancing itself between quiet and meandering verses bemoaning his exhaustion, and the built-up tension of the choruses (“You’d say I’m putting you on…”) that explode with his desperate plea for peace of mind. Each section plays off each other, growing more irritable as the song wears on, until the final chorus has him screaming “I’m going insane!” and belting out a repeated plea before the song stops cold. John then balances his anger with an mumbling “Monsieur, Monsieur, how about another one…?” as the song ends, a tired-out old man falling back in his armchair, his weary butler at his side.

Track 3: Blackbird
Paul’s gorgeous acoustic piece was inspired musically by Bach’s “Bourrée in E Minor” (specifically, the bass strings counterpointing the melody on the higher strings, and a piece Paul and George would try to learn as a “show-off” piece), but lyrically it was inspired by the escalating racial tensions in the United States during 1968. Written earlier in the year in Scotland, he wished not to write a protest song but one of personal and spiritual uplift and hope, even during the worst of times. The main message is perseverance. He didn’t exactly reveal this right away when the song was released, so many may have thought this was a simple and slight folk song, but given its true meaning, it’s become a well-loved and oft-covered piece. Crosby, Stills and Nash would cover this track a year later during their set at Woodstock, much to the audience’s joy.

Recorded relatively early in the sessions (11 June) while John was off in another studio noodling with more sound effects for “Revolution 9”, this one is Paul alone on a Martin D28 acoustic, and using his own shoetapping as a metronome and percussion. In just 32 takes–only eleven of which were complete–he started and finished one of his most stunning pieces ever. To this day he still plays this song live, without any accompaniment.

Track 4: Piggies
George’s wicked sense of humor shines through on another track seemingly based on London’s wealthy bankers and other fiscal conservatives. A biting satire on the blissful ignorance of the upper class, the song is even played in a Baroque style to further the image of their stiffness, though he bends the classical rules a bit by throwing quite a few un-Baroque phrases in there (such as a blues riff on the harpsichord right about at the :55 mark). Interestingly, this also showcases the extent of George’s vocal range during the final multi-voiced verse, one voice hitting a low E-flat, and another voice hitting a high B-flat just a few seconds later.

The track was recorded on 19 September with all four members of the band, though an uncredited Chris Thomas–the producer on hand, as George Martin was then on vacation–had not only suggested the harpsichord piece, but played it himself. One quite fascinating note of this evening’s recording: though they were not recorded and were still being written at this time, George also spent a bit of time that night noodling around with a new composition called “Something”, and Paul jammed between takes on his new song called “Let It Be”. Neither song would be recorded at this time, but would resurface within the next year.

Track 5: Rocky Raccoon
Paul returns with a western story song where you can practically hear the dust and the tumbleweeds. Some might see this track as a pastiche of an old-school country-western ballad, but as always, the band turn it into something dynamically interesting. Starting off as a meandering guitar lick as if he was sitting out on the dusty porch somewhere in the wild west–and even delivering the prologue lyrics in a fake American western accent–he quickly jumps into the story of the strong but tender Rocky, heartbroken by his girl, Lil/Nancy Magill, who’d left him for some brute name Dan, and his attempt to win her back. John’s harmonica makes a very welcome return here, first echoing the “local saloon” line, and then kicking it up at the hoedown.  By the second verse, the instruments have started slowly coming in, with bass (played by John here), and Ringo quietly playing snare (and punctuating Rocky’s getting shot with a loud snare hit) before the hoedown interlude kicks in. At this point, George Martin supplies a wonderful honky tonk piano, placed far off in the mix to create a spatial image of the large saloon, the upright off in the corner. After another return to finish the story (and introduce the drunk doctor to help Rocky survive), the song ends with another uplifting hoedown, with the stubborn Rocky refusing to give up.

Track 6: Don’t Pass Me By
Ringo’s first vocal track on the album is also officially his first solo-written song as well. He’d started writing this song about four years earlier in 1964 (in fact, it’s hinted at during a Top Gear episode in July of that year) and finally makes its debut here. It’s a simple three-chord blues song inserted into an almost countrified setting (thus a nice segue from the previous track there), and it isn’t that strong of a song, but it’s as always a fun track from him. Featuring only Ringo on percussion and the occasional piano with Paul offering piano and bass, and introducing local jazz musician Jack Fallon on violin, it was the second track recorded for the project on 5 June, with various overdubs added a few days later. The mono mix is slightly faster and the violin track is different than the more widely known stereo version. Of note is an unused orchestral piece that George Martin scored as a prologue to the track, but ultimately unused on the album; the introduction, later entitled “A Beginning” on the Anthology 3 album, would be used in edited form as a musical cue in Yellow Submarine, specifically during the sunrise and start of day in Liverpool sequence just before “Eleanor Rigby” starts.

Track 7: Why Don’t We Do It in the Road?
Paul slipped into the studio on 9 October while George was working on overdubs for “Long Long Long” (and added Ringo’s drumming as an overdub the next day while George worked on “Piggies” overdubs and John on “Glass Onion” overdubs) and whipped out this short track of just under two minutes. It’s a solo experiment track on the lines of “Wild Honey Pie”, it features him riffing on the three-chord blues, singing the sparse lyrics alternately loud and soft. Paul states that this is exactly what you think it’s about–it was inspired by an event he’d witnessed while in India, in which two monkeys in the road stopped and, well, did it in the road…then zipped off a few moments later as if nothing had happened. He was struck by the hilarity of it–why are we as humans so uptight about such things in public, and yet animals don’t care in the least? A completely pointless song, but a fun little filler nonetheless.

Track 8: I Will
The fascinating thing about this track is that it would fit perfectly on Rubber Soul.  Written mostly in India and recorded 16 September with Paul on guitar and both John and Ringo on percussion (George was not present at the time), this soft acoustic track is a simple love song reminiscent of his folkier moments from that album or even the latter half of Help!. For such a short song, however, the track took sixty-seven takes, with Take 65 considered the best one, which would then have vocal overdubs–including Paul mimicking a bass line with his own voice–and finished late that evening. In between this session, the trio did meander into a few jams, including a few that would show up on Anthology 3 with their cover of Paul’s “Step Inside Love” which he would give to Cilla Black, as well as the untitled song (often referred to as “Can You Take Me Back”, which pops up on Take 19) that was given heavy reverb and served as a spooky introduction to “Revolution 9” on Side D.

Track 9: Julia
The very last song recorded for The Beatles took place the evening of 13 October, with only John and Paul in the studio at the time. This heartwarming (and heartbreaking) ode to his mother, who had been killed ten years earlier when hit by a drunken off-duty officer, is played solo in the Travis-style picking that he’d learned that spring in India via Donovan. While the style used in “Dear Prudence” is meant to drive the song and lighten the mood, here it’s used more as a way to create a fugue with its strict repetitiveness. It could possibly be seen as one of John’s first personal songs that deal with his relationship (or lack thereof) with his parents, which would culminate with the searing “Mother” off his Plastic Ono Band album. Interestingly, this song also hints at his blossoming relationship with Yoko, especially when he mentions “ocean child”–a roundabout translation of Yoko’s name.

Though Paul is nowhere on this song, it is known that he was in the studio that night, as he is heard cheering John on during one of the takes that shows up on Anthology 3. Clearly Paul was moved and impressed by this track and its delicateness, as he has nothing but wonderful things to say about it on that take.

*   *   *

Although “Julia” ends with a lovely last strum of an acoustic guitar, this first record of the two-disc set actually ends on somewhat of a hesitant note. Had this been a single-disc album, having two light acoustic tracks finish off the album would have been somewhat of an odd choice. However, as a halfway point between the lighter, more positive tracks of the first disc and the darker, harder tracks of second, it works not just as a good segue but also as a delineator. By the end of Side B we’ve not only heard full band rock-outs but sparse single-player tracks, but each one of them is as organic as possible, with only the lightest touch of experimental tweaking. Each song is built up and produced exactly how it should be, with nary an overwrought track like Sgt Pepper may have been. Even more interesting is the deliberate lack of any theme; each song is written and played for its own benefit without any ulterior motive or preplanned link.

Again, to the casual fan, The Beatles may sound quite a bit of an overindulgent mess of half-baked songs and unfinished experiments. Even more so, one could see it as “four guys recording a solo album together”, as it’s so often described, especially given the history behind it. Despite all that, however, the album remains cohesive as a whole: a band who has decided not to record an album of songs, but a band who has recorded a number of songs to be compiled onto an album. The Beatles, more than anything, is a compilation of sorts. It’s the end result of a social experiment of four musicians detaching themselves from the world for a short time in an attempt to find themselves, both as individuals and as a band.

Next Up: The Beatles, Side C

The spring of 1968 was a turning point for the Beatles, in that they were, possibly for the very first time, going it completely alone.  While Brian Epstein’s position seemed to be receding into the background once they quit touring, he had always been their anchor on the business end of things.  Now they were free to do what they wanted to do…which of course is always a double-edged sword.  The creative freedom they now let them go down any musical avenues they so chose…but with that came the possibility of writing half-baked songs that said little to nothing to anyone except themselves.  Their financial status let them try out different things, such as the Apple Boutique, possible electronics and media interests…but considering that they knew next to nothing about economics, many of those interests fell flat rather quickly.  They soon realized that perhaps it was time to back up and focus on what they did best: the music.

This stretch of time was also an attempt to get their heads cleared as well.  The insanity of the first half of the decade and the frustrations and lack of direction in the previous year were now behind them; with George Harrison’s suggestion, they chose to go along with their “spiritual enlightenment” and head off to India to study under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in Rishikesh.  Under more normal circumstances, this may have been a good idea; this extended vacation would not only give them time to “come back down to Earth” but also to refuel themselves creatively and find a new direction.  However, it wasn’t nearly as clear-cut.

John’s relationship with Cynthia was on a dangerous decline.  While Cynthia chose to remain strong, be a mother to Julian, and attempt to stay positive, John on the other hand had grown more frustrated and claustrophobic; it was quite evident that they were two completely different and mismatched people.  John had also started meeting with Yoko Ono at this time, first as friends but slowly becoming lovers.  One telling moment of this change was during the initial train out of the city that would bring the band members and their wives to the airport; at the last moment, just as the train had finished boarding, the band hurried on…but in the rush, John had sprinted ahead and jumped on, leaving Cynthia behind.  Paul, on the other hand, had had enough with Jane Asher’s flightiness.  By the middle of 1968 they had broken up and gone their separate ways.  They had both taken the trip to India, but it was evident that they were hanging in different social circles, and, like John and Cynthia, they weren’t the best match for each other.

That isn’t to say it was all marital difficulties.  At this time George and Patti were getting along well, and Ringo and Maureen were doing just fine.  However, the main issue with the India trip was that, had it been personal decisions by the four members rather than a group decision, there may have been more leeway in the relationship between them.  It was evident that Ringo was not entirely excited about the India trip–he being more of an “I’ll come along because everyone else will be there” sort of person–and left after only a few weeks for personal reasons: Ringo’s delicate digestive system could not handle the rich Indian delicacies, and Maureen could not stand the weather and the constant bother of insects.

Which left John, Paul and George.  Out of the three, it was obvious that George was the most dedicated.  Paul was open-minded but not completely enthusiastic.  John, on the other hand, wanted to be dedicated but could not bring himself to George’s level.  Eventually John and Paul would sneak off during hours they should have been meditating, visiting each other’s cabins and writing songs just like in the old days.  It has never been proven exactly what caused John to leave India so abruptly, though there were rumors that the Maharishi had been caught flirting with (and possibly assaulting) some of the female visitors.  John would eventually dismiss this, stating that he had been wanting to leave earlier anyway and had used that rumor as a valid reason, whether or not it was true.

That said…despite their semi-foiled plans, it wasn’t a complete disaster.  During those few months in India, they had written over three dozen songs and were itching to get back into the studio to record them.  They even had a new focus: this next project was going to be the anti-Sgt Pepper album, full of solid rock songs with no pretext.  They weren’t going to write any more psychedelic songs, nor were they going to head into the studio with no plan “and see what popped up.”  As John would say, they’d done all that already…it was time to record another rock album.

Early in May, they reconvened at George’s house, Kinfauns, in Esher, to record a number of demos of the songs they’d written during their trip.  The backlog of songs was so rich and varied that, even after recording thirty-three of them in the studio, they’d whittled the playlist down to an even thirty.  A number of demos would be held back until the next two projects in 1969, and some would end up on solo albums.  Two songs of George’s, “Circles” and “Not Guilty”, would not see the light of day until he re-recorded them nearly a decade later.  The songs varied from straight-ahead rock to sing-along folk, from quiet balladry to frenzied guitar freak-out and musique concrete.  There would not be any single specific genre here.

Credit: discogs.com

Album: The Beatles
Released: 22 November 1968

The Beatles, often referred to as “the White Album”, is indeed a sprawling album and not an easy one to listen to if one is used to the more compact and poppier albums they’d released. It is, however, an interesting work of art, even down to the visual level. There had been a number of names kicked around for this project, but as the sessions wore on, it became evident that having it self-titled would make the most sense. This was a new look at the band: it wasn’t the psychedelic Beatles of 1967 or the moptops of the early 60s; this was a rock band writing and recording songs that were unlike anything they’d done previously. The anti-Sgt Pepper idea had also extended to the point that, instead of the fantastical color splash of that album, this album would be the exact opposite. Hiring artist Richard Hamilton, the packaging would be thus: a completely white cover, with the band’s name lightly embossed, and a unique (but not exactly limited) serial number printed on it. The cover, in fact, looked exactly like vinyl bootlegs of the time, which often had no printed label save for a stamped title or a low-quality photocopy of the track listing taped to it. The packaging included a fold-out poster with printed lyrics on one side and a collage of Beatle pictures on the other (including two semi-nude Beatles, much to many fans’ surprise). Initial runs and some later reprints also included four portraits of the band taken by John Kelly. The album itself, however, remained as simple as possible; the gatefold opened up to small grayscale versions of the portraits, and a simple listing of the songs, nothing more.

All the true magic lay within, on the vinyl.

Side A

Track 1: Back in the USSR
The album starts off with this tight Beach Boys-influenced rocker and possibly one of the strongest songs they’d recorded during these sessions. On the other hand, the sessions for this track–22 and 23 August, much later in the project–were also one of more acrimonious for the band. Specifically, Ringo, having spent a goodly amount of session time for the last few albums sitting around waiting for the other three to finish squabbling and figure out what they were going to play, had finally had enough and quit the band. He would be gone for about two weeks, finally returning on 5 September (to much love and apologies from the band). However, his absence meant that someone else would need to play the drums. In this instance (and with the next track), it fell to Paul. Paul was actually a very adequate drummer with a great sense of time and rhythm, and it shows here. Unlike Ringo’s style, which is more laid back and unobtrusive, Paul lays down a quick-paced thundering beat. The threesome would be overdubbing themselves on multiple parts here, each playing a bit of bass and guitar.

[Interesting side note: it’s said Beach Boys vocalist Mike Love actually suggested singing about the girls in Russia, as a joking reference to their own “California Girls”. Mike was part of the group that visited India and became good friends with the band. Check out the bootleg track “Spiritual Regeneration”, which is another Beach Boys pastiche and a birthday song for Mike.]

Track 2: Dear Prudence
This track, also recorded during Ringo’s absence, is a gorgeous and deceptively simple track written by John. Story goes that Prudence Farrow (actress Mia’s sister) was such a devout follower of the Maharishi at the time she would rarely set foot outside, and this song was written as a way to get her to socialize more, that she needn’t meditate so completely and obsessively. Also of note is a new fingerpicking style that John learned from pop-folk singer Donovan (another India visitor). John enjoyed playing this style once he’d figured it out, and would use it on many future Beatles and solo tracks. Paul is once again the drummer here, with John on the cyclical fingerpicking riff and George playing a wonderful lead melody that complements John’s.

[Another in my top picks of Beatles songs…I love the melody, and it’s some of John and George’s best guitar work.]

Track 3: Glass Onion
When John wanted to be a smartass, he certainly would never hold back; he’d go for the jugular each and every time. This track is a biting response to all the obsessed listeners who would read way too much into the Beatles’ lyrics, specifically the supposed hidden messages sprinkled throughout the Sgt Pepper album. Just as he’d written “I Am the Walrus” as a completely incomprehensible lyric on purpose, this was more direct–he name-drops multiple previous Beatles song here, from “The Fool on the Hill” and “Fixing a Hole” and even the recent single “Lady Madonna”. The line “Here’s another clue for you all/The Walrus was Paul” was originally just another wiseass lyric, but it would soon take on new meaning when the somewhat ridiculous “Paul is Dead” urban legend took hold a year or so later.

Musically it’s not too adventurous, though there’s a lot of sinister-sounding chord changes here that try to evoke tension–a great balance to the admittedly silly lyrics, making one wonder whether John’s being serious or just playing us for fools. An interesting alternate mix, made before orchestral overdubs, is heard on the Anthology 3 compilation, with odd sound effects (bell rings, glass shattering, and sports announcer sound bites) added throughout.

Track 4: Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da
One of the more jubilant tracks on the album, this one has somewhat of an interesting recording history, starting on 3 July. It being one of Paul’s original songs written in India, its original, more acoustic version is more of a plodding singalong that hints at having been sung live while there. John, on the other hand, openly hated this song (having called it “his granny music shit” at various points), despite delivering tight “la-la-la” background vocals. After five days of attempting this version, John came in wasted the next evening–always a bad sign, as he would be in prime form for relentless spite–and sat down at the piano. Giving Paul a glare, he hollered “This is how we do it!”…and proceeded to play the much faster, piano-driven and reggae-tinged version you hear today.

Apparently this version not only broke the tension that had been mounting, but on 9 July they added a bunch of banter to the mix, including much laughing, clapping and other noises. Of note is a bit of studio silliness: at 1:35 during “…Desmond lets the children lend a hand”, John responds with an “Arm!” and George with “Leg!” nearly off mike; this happens again at 2:27 with Paul’s “…Molly lets the children lend a hand” with George this time responding with “Foot!”

Track 5: Wild Honey Pie
One of the shorter songs in the Beatles’ catalog, clocking in at a mere fifty-five seconds, this was a quickly recorded experiment of Paul’s while John and Ringo were busy elsewhere, and George was away on a quick three-day trip to Greece. Many studio experiments were thrown around at this time, and many of them were shoehorned into other songs (such as Paul’s “Can you take me back…” from the “I Will” session being added on to the end of “Cry Baby Cry”), but this little bit was Paul’s attempt at layering multiple sounds on top of each other. Thus the multiple guitars using the tremolo arm (aka, the whammy bar) and multiple Pauls howling away. It very nearly did not make the cut, but apparently George’s wife Patti enjoyed it so much they kept it.

Track 6: The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill
Another campfire singalong-style track from India, this track of John’s is an acid comment on an American visitor to the ashram. While John was his usual abrasive self to those he didn’t know well, he took a particular dislike to this person and his mother. Story goes that they completely missed the point of what life at the ashram was about, having brought a ridiculous amount of luggage and having gone out tiger hunting (and being quite proud of a particular kill he’d made)–to put it bluntly, they weren’t there for the spirituality, but to say they hobnobbed with the Beatles and the Maharishi.

The recording for this track was incredibly quick–“I’m So Tired” from Side B was recorded and finished on the same night as well–and includes not just the four Beatles but Ringo’s wife Maureen and Yoko Ono singing background (with Yoko adding the mother’s line “Not when he looked so fierce”), and associate producer Chris Thomas kicking off the prerecorded flamenco riff on the Mellotron that opens the song. It’s played quite loosely–perhaps like many of the other India songs, it retains its organic feel–and with only three takes recorded, it nevertheless feels complete, even as it breaks down into banter and noise at the end.

Track 7: While My Guitar Gently Weeps
George’s first of four (out of six!) compositions for this project makes its appearance here. It’s a haunting track based on the I Ching, specifically the Eastern philosophy that everything is related to everything else (unlike the Western philosophy of coincidence). Taking a book from his mother’s shelf, the first words he saw was “gently weeps” and proceeded to write the song based around that phrase. Lyrically it’s fascinating–upon first listen, it sounds like he’s distancing himself from everyone else–while you’re doing X, I’m doing Y (“…while my guitar gently weeps”). It even sounds downright accusatory (especially the “I don’t know why…” passages). But in the context of spiritual interconnectedness, it’s more of a sad dirge–it’s not he who is distancing himself, it’s everyone else who is distanced because they are unaware (or unenlightened), and he desperately wishes it otherwise.

The released take is actually the third version recorded. The first was a demo recorded 25 July, featuring only George on guitar and harmonium, made specifically as a guide for the rest of the band. A second version was attempted on 16 August, but remains unreleased (even as a bootleg) at this time. The version here was started 5 September, the day after Ringo’s return to the band. There’s a menace behind this version, every instrument played hard and tight to add to the raw tension (even Ringo’s drums are mixed quite loudly). Eric Clapton, a close friend of the band, was asked to play the solo on this track, which was slightly altered with a bit of wobble to make it sound more “Beatle-y”, recorded on 6 September. Due to contractual reasons, Eric was never officially given credit for the solo, but it’s widely known that it was in fact him.

Track 8: Happiness Is a Warm Gun
Side A ends with another John song, this time offering a track made up of four separate song fragments he’d come up with in India, and it’s a fantastic example of just how detailed and complicated their compositions could get. Because of its fragments, the lyrics to the song are itself fragmented; it’s less a linear lyric as it is a metaphorical one. The first segment (“She’s not a girl who misses much…”), played in fingerpicked style and heavily flanged, all while switching time signatures all over the place, adding to the creepiness of the lyrics. This segment gives way to a sudden switch to a short multiple time signature section (“I need a fix…”, sung by Paul and John in a wavering octave) with Ringo keeping a slow but steady 6/8 beat, plodding along for just a few bars before it halts…only to jump back in again in with the faster third segment (“Mother Superior jumped the gun”) lasting four bars but switching multiple times (6/8, 6/4, 6/8, 7/4), then switching smoothly back to a 4/4 time with the final segment (“Happiness is a warm gun…”). Even this last segment is complex, as the band suddenly plays in 6/8 time during John’s “When I hold you in my arms…” passage, while Ringo is still in 4/4. It’s by no means their best song, but compositionally, it’s one of their most fascinating.

*   *   *

The band played a big hand in the production and sequencing of The Beatles, and the first eight tracks could be seen as a hint of what to expect on the next three sides.  While there were some genuine pop hits here, such as “Back in the USSR”, as well as some true gems like “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, there were also the extremely experimental tracks such as “Wild Honey Pie” and “Happiness is a Warm Gun”.  Ending the first side with that song in particular (only to open up Side B with the light and bouncy “Martha My Dear”) really puts across the notion that all is not as it seems on this record.  In fact, a full-album listen often hints at a slow yet distinct descent into chaos and unrest.  It may start peppy, but it certainly doesn’t stay that way.  This would confuse many fans and critics back in 1968, and the album initially received very mixed reviews…it would take quite a long time for anyone to warm up to this one.

Next Up: The Beatles, Side B

The next project of recording–this of the music for the planned Magical Mystery Tour television film–started before Sgt Pepper had even been released. In fact, it started mere days after the last notes of “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)” were put to tape, after Paul had returned from a visit to the United States. The movie itself would remain in the planning stages for a good while, as filming would not start until mid-September 1967. The recording of the music for it would be scattershot, the theme song recorded in April alongside the future Yellow Submarine music, the rest being picked up in August and September. Late 1967 would be an extremely trying time for them financially and emotionally, so it may seem that the Magical Mystery Tour project might have been seen in two ways: one, as a financial outlet for their recently-created business partnership Apple Corps, and two, as an emotional outlet (or perhaps an emotional escape) for the devastating loss of Brian Epstein. It seemed that they had finally escaped the insanity of early 60s Beatlemania, only to exchange it for the insanity of running a business with little to no prior experience, and without their longstanding manager. They had great ideas…but they had little to no idea how to expand on them or if they would even work.

As mentioned before, the Beatles were creatively drifting at this point as well–as George Martin would say, they were in their “try anything” phase which was producing mixed results. Musically they were still creative, but it was taking longer for them to achieve their goals–if they in fact had any at that point.

The film itself is a testament to this. The plot was partly inspired by Ken Kesey’s Merry Pranksters and their traveling bus Further, as well as the charabanc trips of the Beatles’ youth (these were chartered, low-cost day trips via coach, usually to a seaside resort or another tourist attraction). There was no plan and very little script, other than Paul’s pie-chart outline and a few planned performances. It was mainly filmed via an extremely small crew, including the band themselves (I am assuming they used 16mm or 35mm stock, given the quality and the timeframe), and the idea was, like their recorded output at the time, “be at the bus station on Monday and we’ll see what happens.” The finished product is a trippy, disjointed and amateurish film resembling a home movie. It’s quite colorful and has its moments, but as a whole it was understandably panned by critics and fans alike. There are a few creative passages, such as the fabulous weirdness of the “I Am the Walrus” segment, the hilarious (yet sadly too short) cameo of Victor Spinetti as an incomprehensible army drill sergeant, and The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band’s burlesque performance of “Death Cab for Cutie” (yes, that is where the band got its name!)…but much of it is filler. Many fans who saw this on its Boxing Day airing saw it in black and white, and their reaction was quite negative.

The band agreed that the release was subpar and despite further airings in color, it was deemed a misfire. Perhaps it was time to rethink their future plans–or in this case, make some future plans instead of “seeing what unfolds”. They would use their upcoming India retreat as a way to make some concrete goals, write completely new songs, and become a full-fledged band again.

*      *      *

Credit: discogs.com

EP: Magical Mystery Tour
Released: 8 December 1967

Given that they did not have a full album’s worth of new songs to provide, nor did they want to release an album half-filled with music they’d released earlier in the year, it was decided to release the soundtrack to their television film as a double EP. The format itself wasn’t nearly as popular as it once had been, and was not popular at all in the US, but it was deemed the only acceptable way to release it. As mentioned in the previous entry, this was released only in EP format in the UK, and the American full-album version (the six MMT tracks on one side and in a different order), the previous three 1967 singles on the other) would not be released in the UK until 1976, at which point it finally became official UK canon and later officially part of their discography.

The original EP–and early vinyl copies of the American version–included a wonderfully packaged 28-page insert that included stills from the film as well as a comic book version of the film itself. The comic book is set up in a children’s story book fashion, one page split into six images with a few simple sentences describing the scene (and obviously omitting a lot of the slower scenes in the film). This insert vanished for a good number of years, but finally resurfaced, much to many fans’ delight, with the 2009 remastered cds.

Side A, Track 1: Magical Mystery Tour
A fanfare opens up the EP (and the film) with the roaring sound of a coach bus and Paul, as barker, calling out to everyone to come and enjoy the trip he’s about to take them on. The first track recorded for the project on 25 April, just a few days after Paul’s return from his US trip, it’s a lighthearted rock song that does its job as an entrance theme. Interestingly the vocals were recorded at a lower speed and played back faster, giving Paul’s lead and John and George’s backup a much different, and much more jovial tone. Of note here, though, is a curious and unexpectedly jazzy fade out…they were known for extending the ends of their songs in the studio around this time (a number of White Album-era songs would get treated this way), even if they were eventually edited out, but this was most likely the first time it would stay in the final mix. It serves as a musical segue from the opening shots to the movie proper.

Side A, Track 2: Your Mother Should Know
The next song recorded for this project popped up on 22 August–a good number of months after most of the Yellow Submarine tracks had been finished and the Our World project had been finished. Curiously this track was started not at Abbey Road but at Chappell Recording Studios, another independent studio in London (like their previous recording at Olympic, Abbey Road had been booked solid at this time). This is another of Paul’s compositions and very similar to his “old-timey” songs he was occasionally fond of writing (and which John would later snipe about, post-breakup). It was also the last song that Epstein would hear them recording, as he would pass away days later.

It’s another simple song, somewhat vaudevillian in its way, and one can hear it in the production. The main chord progression is circular and shuffles along as if played on banjo–in fact, one can hear George’s guitar faintly on the right speaker sounding remarkably like one, specifically near the title refrain. It was used in a Busby-Berkley-style musical scene at the ending of the film, as a celebratory end to their magical trip.

Side B: I Am the Walrus
Previously seen as the b-side to the “Hello Goodbye” single (see the previous entry), it was accepted here on the EP due to its segment in the film. This song was the first track they recorded (on 5 September) after Epstein’s death, after a heady meeting on 1 September at Paul’s house in St John’s Wood (mere blocks from Abbey Road on Cavendish Avenue). Despite their loss and their lack of direction, they’d decided to soldier on with the Magical Mystery Tour project as well as with their upcoming India retreat. They did not want to keep things unfinished, nor did they want to continue without any plan in mind.

Side C, Track 1: The Fool on the Hill
A third Paul song, started properly on 25 September after a brief outtake on the 6th. It’s a ballad similar to “Here There and Everywhere” or “For No One”, based mostly on a piano melody. It could easily be Paul’s answer to John’s “Nowhere Man”–a song about a man blissfully unaware (perhaps on purpose) of the world around him. This song, however, takes on a slightly darker edge, revealing that this “Fool” may actually be a lot smarter than he’s letting on–some have stated that it was based on the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. While Paul paints the man as inattentive and oblivious in the light verses sung in a major key, the chorus describes him as seeing the bigger and darker picture, sung in minor. Adding to the childlike quality of the song is a solo played on recorder by Paul. The song shows up in an interesting passage of the movie, a dreamlike segment with Paul walking around Nice, France, which was shot in late October.

Side C, Track 2: Flying
This track is a standard twelve-bar blues riff instrumental–their first instrumental since attempting one with “12-Bar Original” a few years previous, and the first Beatles track credited to all four members. It’s purposely laid back and dreamlike, with John playing the main melody on mellotron, and Paul and George playing the guitars. Originally entitled “Aerial Tour Instrumental”, it was used in what was to be another dreamlike sequence, hinting that the tour bus was flying through these magical clouds as it headed towards its destination. It’s a relatively short blues jam at just over two minutes, but dynamically it’s kind of fun, starting quietly but building up to a vocalized crescendo. It ends with the burbling sounds of mellotron tape loops created by John and Ringo…which, in one of its unedited forms, went on for a further seven minutes. This extended ending was used as incidental music throughout the movie.

The segment of the movie that features this two-minute version was created using unused aerial footage from Stanly Kubrick’s 1964 film Dr Strangelove and lab-tinted various colors. It unfortunately didn’t translate well into black and white during its initial airing on BBC1 and added to the negative reaction to the film, but in its colorized form (which works much better on the remastered 2012 DVD release than it did on the subpar 80s VHS version), it’s fun to watch.

Side D: Blue Jay Way
George supplied the final track on the EP written at and about a street in the Hollywood Hills where he’d rented a home in 1967, where he’d had to wait for their press officer Derek Taylor to arrive one evening. The opening line “There’s a fog upon LA” refers specifically to the fact that up in the Hills it would get quite foggy and reaching the street (via quite a circuitous route) one could get easily lost. To add to the fog and the trippiness, pretty much every instrument here is treated with some kind of flanging effect, from George’s voice to Ringo’s drums (curiously pushed forward in the mix here) and the swirling organ. It too had its own segment, in the form of a movie-within-a-movie, with the bus riders entering a tent to watch the performance which was alternately shot on a foggy street and in one of the Beatles’ back yards.

*    *    *

The EP (and the US album) concluded what would be probably one of the most peculiar eras in the Beatles catalog. The freedom they longed for came to fruition in late 1966, giving them more creative freedom and time to build more complex recordings. Out of this came two phenomenal releases: the “Strawberry Fields Forever”/”Penny Lane” single and Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, both considered their finest achievements. Their success however left them unsure where to go from there–they were under a new contract, running a new production company that would make more sense financially (read: would raise them more money while simultaneously avoiding the punishing British tax code for performers), and could do anything they wanted but had no plan. There have been a number of books written about their financial issues from this time forward (Peter Doggett’s You Never Give Me Your Money is a particularly damning account for everyone involved), as well as their personal and emotional (and health) states at this time, so it’s easy to see that the latter half of 1967 could be viewed as a starting point where it started going downhill.

That said, listening to the EP/album in this day and age, and on its own without the history behind it, it’s a wonderful collection of the band at their most eclectic: they were firmly in “rock” territory by this time, having moved far enough away from their pop origins and their brief foray into folk rock. Many of the songs were brimming with creativity, not to mention a deep knowledge of the songwriting craft, giving their tracks many more layers than one would notice upon first listen. It’s also the band at their most psychedelic–which is understandable, given the era in which the songs were recorded.

*      *      *

Credit: jpgr.co.uk – The Beatles Complete UK Discography site

Single: Christmas Time (Is Here Again)
Released to the Beatles’ Official Fan Club: 15 December 1967

The Beatles saw 1967 out with one last recording, this time with another fan club message. As with 1966’s self-penned silliness, the Beatles wrote the script (such as it was) for this one as well, this time in the form of what sounds like a Christmas eve BBC broadcast. It starts off with a rocking theme song which is then interspersed throughout the recording, which contains a skewered take on radio entertainment at the time: a game show, a repeating commercial for Wonderlust, an interview with a stodgy politician, and more. Even George Martin gets in on the fun this time, stating “They’d like to thank you for a wonderful year” (echoed by George H, and then the four boys, in deadpan) before the track ends with a reprise of the theme, overdubbed by laughing and hooting. As an epilogue, they’ve also edited a fade-out from 1966’s recording, with John reading a season’s greeting in a fake Scottish accent. While it’s not nearly as slapstick as 1966’s recording, it’s equally as silly in terms of British humor.

*      *      *

Given all the events that unfolded in 1967–the new sounds, the personal events, the participation in Our World and other projects–the year was quite a rollercoaster, and in retrospect it could have been part of the impetus for their frustrations, failings and eventual breakups down the road. Many books have stated that the band was well aware that they were skirting into unknown territory, and freely admitted that they were not the best businessmen when it came down to it. The times were changing again, and so was the band. They had been a part of the blissful and blissed-out Summer of Love, created a soundtrack to it even, but near the end of the year, it was time to come back down to reality. Still, they chose to remain as positive as they could for the time being, entering 1968 with a few abbreviated recording sessions in January and February for potential singles and another Yellow Submarine track, before heading out to India in April. By the time they returned back to London in May, they had a new slew of songs they had written during their time off, and had even more to record as that new project grew. Those sessions would become quite fruitful, but quite contentious as well.  The result would offer some absolutely stunning and memorable songs, as well as the most argued-about Beatles album in their catalog.

Next Up: the “Lady Madonna”/”The Inner Light” and “Hey Jude”/”Revolution” singles

It’s a testament to how seriously the Beatles took their craft when one realizes that even after retreating from the public eye, their cumulative studio time did not really diminish all that much. Back in this golden era of rock music, musicians would not have even entertained the thought of taking months or even years off between albums. Part of it was the perceived need that one’s band had to be constantly in the spotlight, or at least brought back into it after a short time–one can wonder if this might have been a response to Elvis Presley’s nearly two year absence from the public eye back in the late fifties due to his Army stint. When Elvis returned, his music style remained pretty much the same, but the style of popular rock music had already changed, leaving him far behind. In order to remain relevant, one had to constantly stay on top of things, and no popular band wanted to run the risk of irrelevance.

The Beatles’ next projects–there were in fact three recorded in tandem at this time–kicked off even before Sgt Pepper’s was released on 1 June 1967. All were to be multimedia events. One was the band’s next motion picture project, an animated feature named after and partly inspired by their 1966 single “Yellow Submarine”. It was a major undertaking, using over two hundred artists and using multiple styles of animation from limited animation to multilayering to rotoscoping. The band themselves were not interested in appearing or acting in this particular film, but had agreed to record music specifically for it (and later, once they watched a rough cut and loved what they saw, agreed to a short real-life cameo at the end). The small handful of songs for the movie would be recorded at this time. The movie would be released in the UK in summer 1968 (and a few months later in the US), but the soundtrack itself would not be released well until 1969.

The second was another mini-project thought up by Paul on his way back from his trip to the US in late April (if you remember from the last entry, the “Sgt Pepper Reprise” track was the last to be recorded for the previous album just before he took off for this trip). On the flight home he had come up with a short movie somewhat inspired by Ken Kesey’s Merry Pranksters bus that was currently touring around the US at the time…a decidedly British take on the mystery trip, in which the band and their friends take a chartered bus to an unannounced destination [more on this for the next installment]. Most of the filming for this project didn’t take place well until September, but the music was started at this time.

The third much simpler project was participation in a special television appearance unlike any they’d had before. Our World was to be an international event created by the BBC: multiple countries from around the globe were to take part in what is probably one of the first truly global (physically and politically) television broadcasts. It was to be a two-hour focus on life around the world, looking at culture, sport, health, art, and even the future. The Beatles had been invited to be a part of the “Artistic Excellence” segment, and were asked to write a song specifically for it. Both Paul and John had come up with a song, and though it was never revealed what Paul’s song may have been (Beatles biographer Mark Lewisohn posits that it might have been “Your Mother Should Know”), it was John’s offering of “All You Need Is Love” that was used. The band performed the song semi-live (playing against a pre-recorded take) in the early evening of 25 June 1967. The single would be released just shy of two weeks later.

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Credit: jpgr.co.uk – The Beatles Complete UK Discography site

Single: “All You Need Is Love”/”Baby You’re a Rich Man”
Released: 7 July 1967

It’s up to question by the various band members and George Martin as to whether this single had been written for the Our World special, or if it had just been a few songs of John’s he was working on at the time, but it remains a classic single for many reasons. First of all, it could probably considered one of the quickest turnarounds from studio to single yet for the band, even considering the fast release of some of their early singles. But more importantly, it definitely captured the counterculture vibe of the Summer of Love–while all the world was in turmoil, it was a distinct reminder that peace and love were still strong in the minds of sixties’ youth.

Sadly, it would also be the last release seen by their manager Brian Epstein before his untimely death on 27 August. His passing would deeply affect the band in more ways than anyone would have expected. In that respect, it was quite the bittersweet single…Epstein would only witness the band at the peak of their career.

Side A: All You Need Is Love
In another testament to the band’s expertise in songwriting, though the band was well aware that they had been assigned to write a song to deadline, they had put it off until the last possible moment. This particular track was brought in and started on 14 June, a mere eleven days before the live broadcast. The basic tracks were actually started at Olympic Sound Studios in the Barnes neighborhood of London, though overdubs and further vocals were recorded at Abbey Road. Olympic Sound had become one of the top independent recording studios in London, churning out a number of hit songs (including those by the Rolling Stones) and soundtracks.

John would later say this song could easily have been a rewrite of his earlier 1965 song “The Word” (off Rubber Soul, though with much better lyrics and specifically tailored to the current counterculture atmosphere). It’s also a unique track in that, like a small number of Beatle tracks from the 1966-67 period, it contains a number of changing time signatures. The main verses are played in 7/4 time, switching to 8/4 for one bar and returning for one more bar of 7/4, before hitting a 4/4 chorus. Quite evident as well are many borrowed musical themes: the first thing you hear on the track is a symphonic phrase of the French national anthem, “La Marseillaise”; the callback “ra-tatah-tatah” in the chorus is from Wayne Shanklin’s “Chanson D’Amour”, a French pop hit from 1958; and in the fade out, the symphony plays phrases of “Greensleeves”, one of Bach’s Brandenburg concertos (played by David Mason–who had earlier played the piccolo trumpet on “Penny Lane”!) and Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood”; even the Beatles themselves ham it up with John singing “Yesterday” and “She Loves You” just as the song fades out. It’s a clever multilayering of both musical chronology and genre to fit the show’s theme, all scored by George Martin.

Lyrically it’s one of John’s greatest achievements thus far–he delivers quite long and unique lines of verse, counterpointing it with a very short and repetitive chorus. The theme itself could have been filled with weak imagery and hippie platitudes (such as he had done with “The Word”), instead pushing himself to make a valid point. He’s not just saying “Love conquers all”, he’s saying there’s nothing so bad in this world that it can’t be fixed or at least remedied with a bit of understanding and compassion. It goes to show that when he truly put his heart into it, his lyrics could have a deep impact on its listeners.

[Note: The video link is to a copy of the actual Our World broadcast, complete with all their friends in studio (including Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, Keith Moon, Eric Clapton, and many others). The released single version was superimposed on the video for clearer sound.]

Side B: Baby, You’re a Rich Man
Despite it being relegated to a b-side, this song was actually the first of the small handful of new tracks to be recorded specifically for the Yellow Submarine film project. It’s also the first Beatles song completely recorded and mixed, start to finish, outside of Abbey Road, instead done at Olympic Sound Studios. Recording took place on 11 May for this joint John-and-Paul track; John had provided the main lyrics (under the working titled “One of the Beautiful People”) and Paul provided the main chorus. It’s very similar to “Lovely Rita” in sound, with nearly every sound on the recording given some special effect, either generated or manmade. Paul creates a faux-backwards loop sound with his bass right at the beginning by plucking a dampened bass string; both pianos are heavily treated with trebly double-tracking (and in the mono mix, given a “spin-echo” effect at the end of each verse to further give it a fake-backwards sound); to top it off, a Clavioline (an early precursor to a synthesizer) was used on its oboe setting to create a trippy Indian raga-style feel.

Lyrically no one is really sure who it’s about, though there have been theories by various critics and biographers that this song was about Brian Epstein. Epstein had been from a well-off family and was often seen in upper-class circles, and in typical John fashion, this could have been a response to that, asking him “how does it feel to be one of them?” It’s also been said (in Bob Spitz’s band bio, for example) that Epstein was well aware of his stature and understood John’s good-natured jibe, even if he himself was not all that comfortable in those circles.

As the song was released as a b-side here, it was not assigned a spot on the Yellow Submarine album soundtrack, though it does appear in the movie. A segment of the track is used when Ringo “saves” the Sgt Pepper band from the glass bowl that has entrapped them via the “hole in his pocket”.

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The single itself was an instant hit, especially given its release and its theme, and stayed on the Billboard charts for eleven weeks. “All You Need Is Love” could probably be the most prevalent song in the band’s catalogue pre- and post-breakup; it was not only featured as its own single, it was featured in a major climactic scene in Yellow Submarine as well as on its soundtrack album, was available on the US version of Magical Mystery Tour, and shows up on no less than three pre-Anthology compilations. Its most curious appearance, however, was in the classic sixties science fiction show The Prisoner (of which the band were fans): in its final episode, it is heard while Numbers 2, 6, and 48 begin their final escape.

After its release, the band spent their summer building up more tracks for the Yellow Submarine film project (we will cover those for the soundtrack album), and recording songs for the Magical Mystery Tour EP and filming footage for that project. It was also about this time that George and his wife Patti met Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and sat in on one of his Transcendental Meditation lectures at Caxton Hall in London; he soon talked the rest of the band into sitting in on a further lecture. The Maharishi’s words and ideas had taken effect on the band to one level or another, and they would later agree that perhaps an extended vacation to India to meditate and reconnect with themselves might help their future endeavors. According to Bob Spitz’s biography, it was during this particular second lecture that the band had received word that Brian Epstein had died. His passing, as well as the time it took to finish up their current productions, had caused the band to delay their trip to India until early 1968.

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Credit: discogs.com

Single: “Hello Goodbye”/”I Am the Walrus”
Released: 24 November 1967

As was usual for the band, their latest single track was written and recorded in tandem with the current projects, but was considered separate and would not show up on either release. [Keep in mind: Magical Mystery Tour was originally released only as a six-track double EP in the UK and was not released as a full UK album until 1976…the current full-album version that is now considered canon is actually the 1967 US release with the EP expanded to contain the previous three singles. Thus, “Hello Goodbye” was at first a non-album single.] Backed with a track of John’s that would appear on the Magical Mystery Tour EP, it’s a single that might not be the strongest song they had at the time, but it was certainly a fitting coda for the Summer of Love.

Side A: Hello Goodbye
This is very much a Paul song, one that is light and entertaining on purpose, with very little depth to it lyrically. It’s said that Brian’s assistant Alistair Taylor had been visiting Paul one evening and had asked Paul how he wrote his music; in response, they both sat down at Paul’s harmonium and had Taylor call out the opposite of a word Paul would say while he was playing. It’s a simple lyric about opposites and differences, all focused on the “I don’t know why you say goodbye / I say hello” chorus.

Musically, however, it’s a feast for the ears! There’s quite a lot of instrumentation here, from maracas and handclaps, drums, pianos, organs, and layered vocals. Paul also deftly has the main melody and the lyric melody playing off each other, always going in opposing directions; the vocals rise as the melody descends, and vice versa. Even the finale of the song is used as a counterpoint; while the majority of the song is in midtempo and always changing and stops cold, the “hey-la, hey-lo-ah-lo-ah” ending is played double-time, repeated ad nauseum, and fades out.

On the surface, this can be seen as somewhat of a slight song dashed off at the last minute, but it’s also a great example of the band’s now-vast understanding of professional songwriting.

[Note: The above link is for another promotional film they created at the time; this one was shot at Saville Theatre and directed by Paul himself.]

Side B: I Am the Walrus
John’s most psychedelic track to date could be both the start of his avant garde period and part of his frequent returns to his childhood during this time. This song was all about sounds and visuals for him. The sound of the wobbly two-note vocal melody was inspired by the sound of police sirens going by his home, and the lyrics were partly inspired by the goofy rhymes he and his childhood friend Pete Shotton would come up with to try to gross each other out (thus the “yellow matter custard” lyric). A majority of the lyrics, however, were also inspired by a letter he’d received from his alma mater, Quarry Bank High School, in which a languages teacher was having his students analyze Beatles lyrics; John’s typically rebellious answer to that was to write them most deliberately incomprehensible lyrics he could think of.

Musically it’s also fascinating; in the main verses there are two separate descending chord progressions that are quite different yet achieve the same result of barely contained tension, and the entire chorus is simply a C-D-E progression played once. The song also changes pace exactly two minutes in with a breakdown both musically and aurally; the accompanying strings fall down to the low E, only to swoop back up a few moments later for the “sitting in an English garden” middle eight. It’s here that the original stereo mix falls into “fake” stereo for the rest of the song, and it’s for good reason: on 29 September, while working on the mono mix of the track, John decided to throw one last touch onto the song, in the form of a live broadcast of Shakespeare’s King Lear (specifically, parts of Act IV Scene VI) that happened to be playing on the BBC Third Programme. John had wanted white noise in the background, specifically the sound of a meandering radio dial hitting the random stations–it was a nod to the late nights as a kid when he would stay up late, listening to Radio Luxembourg and other foreign stations that only came in at that time. By the long ascending fadeout of the song, the radio stayed on the Lear scene, and became a classic element of the song.  As this effect was recorded straight onto the mono mix, that rendered a true stereo mix impossible at the time, though an attempt was made on the 2006 Love soundtrack/compilation, with the original superimposed on a pre-overdub stereo mix.

The single was, of course, an immediate hit both in the UK and in the US. John half-joked that he felt “Walrus” was the stronger of the tracks and should have been the A-side, but regardless, both songs are strong and are still fan favorites. They also both had a darker edge; they weren’t as jovial and whimsical as Sgt Pepper or as pastoral as the “Strawberry Fields”/”Penny Lane” single. The mood was changing already, and the band could see it. The blissful optimism in both countries was eroding and giving way to dreary frustration. The drug haze was wearing off, and many weren’t liking what they saw.

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The Yellow Submarine project deadline was much farther out at this point, given that the production had just started, and many of the songs to be used in the movie were previously released (mostly from the Revolver and Sgt Pepper albums). By early summer they had “Baby, You’re a Rich Man”, “All Together Now” and “It’s All Too Much” in the can along with the Pepper outtake “Only a Northern Song”, with “Hey Bulldog” to be recorded in early 1968. That left them with the remaining Magical Mystery Tour songs and visuals to work on. George Martin has admitted not being entirely happy with this batch of work, as he felt they were still stuck in their “random” phase (“hey, this instrument sounds neat through a flanger and taped backwards, let’s use it!”) and while there were some strong songs during this time, there were also some less than stellar songs as well, their charm lost due to a lack of vision or direction. After their crowning achievement, it seemed they weren’t quite sure how to proceed.

It can also be noted that the evolution of the band, both musically and personally, had changed. All four members were drifting into their own lives…Paul, who was deep into his own artistic phase at this time, was about to break up with Jane Asher and would soon start seeing rock photographer Linda Eastman; John’s marriage to Cynthia was about to end and was working through quite a few personal issues, and he would soon meet and fall for avant garde artist and filmmaker Yoko Ono; George was fiercely dedicating himself to his spiritual studies, whether or not the others were willing to be just as dedicated; and Ringo was busy starting a family with his wife Maureen and two sons Zak and Jason (son Lee would be born in 1970). They had also become somewhat lost emotionally and spiritually, especially since Brian’s death…it had hit them hard, and they were now faced with the burden of finding a new manager, as well as starting up their own company, Apple Corps. It could be said that between the loss of Brian and the lack of direction after the Sgt Pepper project, they were starting to forget what it was they were aiming for, and instead of backing away and taking stock, they started taking part in multiple projects all at once. Nearly all these events and changes took place in late summer 1967, so these projects could possibly be thought of as the a prologue to the next phase in the band’s career. It was only afterwards, a few years later, when it became clear that this might not have been the best of choices.

Next Up: the Magical Mystery Tour EP and the Christmas Time (Is Here Again) fan club single

To fully understand where the new Beatles sound came from–that of more creative, more artistic music and lyrics, and a move away from the quick and easy love songs of a few years previous–one should also take into account what was going on in the world at the time, musically and historically. By 1965, there had been a distinct change in viewing the world, and it was decidedly generational. The younger crowd were now well aware of historical events both in the US, the UK and abroad. Racial tension was at a high in both the UK and the US.  Societal tension as well, the haves and have-nots becoming ever more polarized. The US had started deploying soldiers to the ongoing war in Vietnam at that time, and by 1967 the number of young soldiers there was soon to reach its peak. Back at home, more and more people of the same age were growing frustrated–there was a real and terrifying chance they would be called into duty to fight in a war they did not believe in. By late 1966 and early 1967, the younger generation started feeling the strain.

At the same time, there were movements in certain cities where that same generation had come up with an answer to the tension: peace and love. It took hold in all kinds of forms, depending on where you were. London, then currently hitting the height of fashion with Mary Quant and other designers, as well frequent but low-level recreational drug use, became “Swinging London” with its feverishly bright colors of Carnaby Street and the vibrant nightclub scene. San Francisco, on the other hand, had just kickstarted its own community movements, specifically as a “together we’re stronger” movement to counteract the generational and class-centric tensions going on. More to the point, San Francisco’s idea was to “look after your brothers and sisters” because it felt like no one else was at the time. Both scenes did involve some recreational drug use of course. In January 1966 Timothy Leary put on the first Acid Test in that city (equal parts party, concert, and LSD sharing), and in January 1967 he was one of the guest speakers at the Human Be-In in Golden Gate Park, ushering in the “turn on, tune in, drop out” alternate lifestyle vibe. By that point, both London and San Francisco scenes had become somewhat blissed out, maybe even a little blissfully ignorant of world events, and in the process it had started to influence the sounds of the music coming out at the time.

That’s not to say that all rock music was political or oblivious in nature; it was more that eyes and ears had been opened, partly due to mind-altering drugs and partly as a need to break out of long-standing social mores that didn’t fit anymore. Musicians had stopped thinking about trying to write the next big radio hit, and started thinking: let’s see how far we can take this. By the mid-sixties, central California had created a bluesy-folksy sound in the Grateful Dead, Creedence Clearwater Revival and Janis Joplin; in southern California, the Beach Boys were growing out of their surf-pop phase and venturing into detailed songwriting and recording (especially evident with 1966’s Pet Sounds). Elsewhere we had the freakishly weird psychedelia of Frank Zappa, the countless garage-psych bands, and the brutally honest lyricism of folkies like Dylan and Simon & Garfunkel.

In addition to this was a relatively new and untested sound: FM Radio.

FM had been around for quite some time, but had never really caught on publicly. Part of this was due to the fact that most listeners were either tuning in with the big bulky radio console in the living room (most of which still only picked up the AM frequencies), or in the hands of teens via small transistor radios. By the mid-sixties, however, many electronics companies were making newer and smaller radios that could pick up both bands, but at this point the radio business really hadn’t jumped on the FM bandwagon yet (and in effect, most FM stations, though commercial to some extent, did not have that much advertising that early in the game). This left the playing field–so to speak–wide open for the music directors and the deejays. Many of these announcers were decidedly not of the old-school variety, refusing to put on silly voices and say corny jokes to get revenue. Instead they were mostly music lovers, the fans who had grown up listening to the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and other bands and singers who sounded nothing like their parents’ favorite performers. This unexpected freedom created a format soon to be called “free-form”, in which they would not just play the singles (and on heavy rotation at that, like the AM pop stations), but would often play obscure album tracks and b-sides.

A perfect playing field for the new, rock-oriented Beatles.

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Credit: discogs.com

Single: “Strawberry Fields Forever”/”Penny Lane” single
Released: 17 February 1967

The band reconvened for their new sessions on 24 November 1966 with a completely clean slate. They didn’t have any concrete ideas of what the next album was going to be about, much less what it might sound like. They only had one song at first–a wispy, meandering song by John that he’d written in Spain during the shoot for How I Won the War, and a vague idea of how they’d view their new endeavor. During their extended vacation at the end of 1966, Paul had come back from a visit to the US having seen a number of new bands with odd names like “Uncle Jessy’s Medicine Show” or the like, and it had occurred to him: why not view the new work in a different light? Maybe instead of writing and singing “the latest Beatles pop hit”, why not write and sing as if they were a completely new band? They’d started going in that direction on Revolver, especially with the far-out psychedelia of “Tomorrow Never Knows”, so to the rest of the band, it made sense. Time to move forward in a new direction.

Side A: Strawberry Fields Forever
John’s new song was quite an introspective piece on multiple levels. He’d started withdrawing into himself (and into LSD and cannabis) about this time, not really knowing who he really was within, and was also dealing with his crumbling marriage to Cynthia. Was he normal, or was he going crazy? Was he the writer and the musician, or was he the performer? Perhaps to answer these questions, he needed to look back to his childhood and retrace his steps. The outcome was a dreamlike nostalgia like nothing he’d written before.

The finished recording itself is quite possibly one of the most detailed and complex recordings they’d ever put to tape. The first few takes were more pastoral–quiet and meandering, the offer to “let me take you down ’cause I’m going to Strawberry Fields” sounding more like a request to detach from the world for awhile. That mood was heightened by the appearance of a new instrument to the studio, the mellotron, formerly used in the studio for sound effects but here used–quite possibly for the first time on a rock record–as a full-fledged instrument. The end result of the first few takes remain quiet, but by Take 7, John–known quite well for his lack of patience–had decided that the song needed a LOT more oomph to it. On 8 December when they returned to the track, they tried a new approach, this time playing it much harder and louder. They enjoyed this new version and used it as the master for overdubs with horns and strings, among other things. Lastly, John threw in one more spanner: he confessed to George Martin that he liked the opening of the softer pastoral version in a lower key, but also liked the latter half of the louder, nearly complete version recorded one key higher…and wondered if they could be edited together. Martin being ever resourceful and creative, managed it almost too easily: slow one down and speed one up until they matched both in pace and key. [One can hear the edit at precisely one minute in: “let me take you down, ’cause I’m” [EDIT] “going to…”] The end result was a fantastic piece of dreamy psychedelia that no one had expected from the band–it would only hit #2 on the UK charts, but it was a wonderful introduction to the new sound of the band.

Side B: Penny Lane
This song of Paul’s was started on 29 December 1966, though he had started writing it nearly a year previous. It seemed to be a perfect counterpoint to John’s semi-nostalgic song–while “Strawberry Fields” is more introspective and the namesake is only used in passing, “Penny Lane” went into great detail describing everything one could see in that particular location of Liverpool when Paul was growing up. It’s quite a lively track full of semi-fictional characters going about their daily lives, all seen by a young man at the bus terminal in the square. Paul went to great lengths to give it a high, bouncy feel, playing short, hard chords on the piano and later having musician David Mason play a Bach-like solo on a piccolo trumpet. It’s a well-loved track, and Paul still plays it live to this day.

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Since both tracks were so strong (and their only other track put to tape at this time was the somewhat less poppy “When I’m Sixty-Four”), Brian Epstein chose these two tracks as a double A-side single. Promotional videos were made for both songs and shot in Knole Park in Sevenoaks, Kent, and shown around the world. The packaging for the single came in a color cover, quite rare for UK singles at the time, with a shot of the band on the cover and individual toddler shots on the back. The band even looked different–the moptops were replaced by longer stylish cuts, they’d all grown facial hair, and even their clothes style had changed. George Martin famously admitted that releasing them as a single and thus taking them out of the running for an album was possibly the worst move he’d ever made in the music business…had he not done that, the sound of the album could have ended up being quite different. Still…it’s an exceptional single, and one that took almost everyone by surprise. And if they thought this single had come out of nowhere…

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Credit: discogs.com

Album: Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
Released: 1 June 1967

One can only wonder what a regular Beatles fan thought of this album when they dropped the needle down on it for the first time. The preceding single was definitely a sign that the band had completely changed their sound from just a few years ago, but what would they be expecting to hear? Perhaps the cover itself was a hint: it clearly wasn’t the loveable moptops anymore. The old Beatles were Madame Tussauds wax figures in black and off to the side, looking somewhat tired and morose. The new Beatles were in colorful band uniforms standing around a colorful bass drum, and surrounded by statues and cut-out pictures of famous people past and present. And on the back, instead of a stock shot of the band or a punchy article written by Tony Barrow, it presented all the lyrics to the songs, superimposed over a small picture of the band looking as though they were about to perform, with Paul conducting. And those lyrics weren’t the regular love songs of yore.

This wasn’t going to be a record full of three minute radio-friendly pop gems, that was for sure.

The album could be considered partly a concept album–a relatively new creation in rock at the time–in which the Beatles are envisioning themselves as Sgt Pepper’s band, playing their songs. Sure, some could say this was a bit of a pretentious move for them (and Paul actually admitted as much in a later interview about it), but in hindsight, it seemed to be the right course of action for them at the time. They didn’t want to just try something new to see how it sounded…they wanted to see how far they could take it.

Side 1

Track 1: Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
The album starts off, curiously enough, with audience sounds. Taken from source recordings for an older Beyond the Fringe comedy album, it literally sets the stage for the rest of the album: you’re about to see Sgt Pepper’s band play live, just for you. The song itself starts a few seconds later, a curious yet fascinating mix of introductory march and groovy rock sound, with Paul playing a loud and crunchy lead guitar throughout. Lyrically and musically it’s a simple track, but it sets the scene for the entire album: here we are, the new band, ready to play songs for you. And for the first time, one Beatles song segues perfectly into the next…

Track 2: With a Little Help from My Friends
…in this case, a feature song for Ringo to sing, under the guise of singer Billy Shears. It’s an incredibly simple song melodically–there’s only five notes to it, if you think about it–but lyrically it’s a lovely piece that ties in with the “new band” theme. We might not be that great, but give us a chance and I think you’ll like us. The lyrics also fit Ringo perfectly–he’d always been happiest playing with his three best mates, and when they offer a call-response on the second and third verses (and the bridges), one can truly hear the friendship they shared.

Track 3: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
After two introductory songs, we’re brought in to a track of John’s that, for the first time in a Beatles song, dives headfirst into the whimsical world of John’s subconscious mind. Though decidedly not about LSD per se (despite the long-standing naming myth), the drug did influence just how far he was willing to go with his wordplay. The imagery here is otherworldly, full of strange colors and odd people and things and sung with heavily treated vocals, but at the same time it could also be looked at as a love song to a girl who could literally blow his mind. Musically it’s fascinating, a quiet and delicate melody in 3/4 played in just a few notes by Paul on an organ and accompanied by sparse guitars and tamboura, until the chorus kicks in, played in 4/4 time as a counterpoint.  Nearly every instrument has been treated with some kind of effect, including John’s voice, drenched in ADT (Artificial Double Tracking).  It’s an extremely trippy song, but it’s fascinatingly arranged.

Track 4: Getting Better
Paul and John follow up with an upbeat song that sounds reminiscent of what they were aiming for on Revolver. The lyrics are incredibly straightforward–Paul sings about once being a less-than-stellar man in his youth but seeing the error of his ways and indeed “getting better all the time.”  He’d borrowed the phrase from temporary fill-in drummer Jimmy Nicol (that was his stock answer whenever being asked about how he was getting along with the band), and John throws in a clever “It couldn’t get no worse” response in the chorus.  The arrangement here, unlike the live sound of the first two tracks and the deliberate muddiness of the “Lucy”, is sparse and remarkably clear, with chiming guitars and choppy piano, as if to make the song as bright and positive as positive. That clarity is wonderfully counterpointed during the verses about how bad he once was; the first half of each verse is played low and droning, only to pick up at the end.

Track 5: Fixing a Hole
A Paul song that somewhat continues the self-examination theme, this time focusing on all the moments where he loses track of where he’s going and what he’s doing. It’s also about those around him at that point in his life, specifically the fans and followers, some of whom really didn’t get that he and the other three also had a mundane private life as well. This song is also unique in that it’s the first Beatles song (not including the two German-sung remakes in 1964) recorded at an EMI studio that wasn’t Abbey Road, which happened to be booked solid on 9 February. They instead recorded a few takes at Regent Sound Studio, and built the final song off Take 2 from that session.

Track 6: She’s Leaving Home
An incredibly haunting song written by both John and Paul, partly inspired by the occasional stories they’d heard of young women disappearing in the UK for one reason or another–in this case, a girl who had run away from home to be with her boyfriend. The arrangement here is so sparse it feels nearly empty, which only adds to the sadness of the song. John and Paul sang their vocals together in Greek chorus style, with John playing the girl’s parents, lamenting her disappearance and unable to see what they might have done to chase her away. Quite heady stuff lyrically, and miles away from even their most recent songs like “Ticket to Ride” or “In My Life”. [As an aside, the mono and stereo versions are different, in that the mono version is sped up to sound a semitone higher, apparently to make Paul sound younger and the song slightly more upbeat.]

Track 7: Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!
Ending Side 1 on a more upbeat note, John features an incredibly fun track whose lyrics were taken almost wholesale from an antique circus poster he’d recently bought. It’s a track that’s quite close to the whole imaginary Sgt Pepper theme, a song introducing the feats and wonders of a number of circus performers, and arranged to sound as much like a fairground as possible. John, George and Ringo all take part playing the many harmonicas on the track; the ending bars contain not just a perky organ melody but a mishmash of steam organ recordings played forwards and backwards.  Again, this reinforces John’s budding habit of infusing whimsy into his music instead of just his writing.  It’s an interesting parallel to “Lucy” in that, while both are dreamlike, the former takes a fever-dream route while “Kite” takes it in a childlike direction, the innocence of going to a festival to see the acrobats and the dancing horses.

Side B

Track 1: Within You Without You
This is actually George’s second attempt at a song for the album; the band had originally recorded the track “Only a Northern Song” in late February, but as the sessions went along, it was clear that the track would not fit the overall sound of the rest of the album. So instead on 15 March, George–and only George, along with Indian instrumentalists–recorded this deeply spiritual track inspired by his ongoing studies of Indian music, spiritualism and culture. Lyrically it’s a meditation on one’s place in the world, specifically how, despite what one may think or believe, everything goes on whether one is connected or not. While George’s musicianship in this style was hinted at on Revolver (specifically with “Love You To”), here he brings it out front and center, building a three-part song of introduction, meditation and reflection. Even more fantastic here is George Martin’s orchestral score (added a few weeks later on 3 March), which not just echoes the tones of the Indian instruments but attempts to mimic them, with sliding notes and pizzicato taps. Perhaps the most curious and unresolved part of the song is in its final seconds, once the song winds down; the spiritual calm is broken by canned laughter, perhaps meant to lighten the overall mood of the song, or to provide a lighter segue into the next track. [I’ve always felt that it was a Zen-like reminder that the message may be serious, but that does not mean one must remain serious forever.]

Track 2: When I’m Sixty-Four
This ditty actually dates back to their days at the Cavern Club in Liverpool–Paul once noted that this track was his attempt at writing for a lounge singer, or perhaps someone like Sinatra. By the time they returned to it in December 1966, they’d exchanged the swinging sound for a much lighter soft-shoe vaudeville one, complete with a jazzy clarinet trio, which seemed to fit the “when I get older, losing my hair” theme. In addition to that, Paul suggested they record it in a lower key and speed up the master (it was recorded in C, but the released version is in D-flat); the effect not only makes him sound younger but also makes the song sound like an old-timey jazz 78rpm record recorded played a bit fast. It’s a fun song that doesn’t take itself seriously at all–much like the original Cavern days version, which was often performed whenever their amplifiers lost power.

Track 3: Lovely Rita
To continue the light ambience, Paul brings in a fun and quirky love song about a female traffic warden he’s fallen for. It too is a silly track, almost a pastiche of John’s “Norwegian Wood” in a way, in which the narrator tries to bring the woman home (so to speak!) but is thwarted in the end–this time by Rita’s sisters who are keeping an eye on the two. Musically it sounds like the band had a hell of a lot of fun recording this on 23 February, as their playing is quite jovial and bouncy, the vocals are delivered tongue firmly in cheek and quite heavy on the ADT, and the background noises are John, Paul and George humming a tune via paper-and-comb.

Track 4: Good Morning Good Morning
John’s current habit of writing about the mundane side of life came to the fore here, a bright and lively track inspired by none other than a Kellogg’s Corn Flakes commercial. The “rise and shine” theme is evident throughout, as the narrator (singing in a rare second person here!) describes the day as it unfolds–unlike “Penny Lane” with its slice of life description, “Good Morning” is more of a mise-en-scene–you’re walking down the street, feeling tired and run down, but things will get better, because everyone around you is so full of life–even if it’s just for something as mundane as tea and soap operas. This recording fascinating on multiple levels: its shifting time signature of 3/4, 4/4 and 5/4 just in the verses alone; the horns (played by the band Sounds Incorporated, who’d toured with the band previously) are miked similar to “Got to Get You Into My Life”, with the pickups in the bells of the saxes to get a rich wall of sound out of them. And to top it off, in a wink to farm sounds found on the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, John had George Martin insert all kinds of wildlife sounds at the end, with the implicit instruction that the follow-up animal had to be capable of scaring (or eating!) the animal before it. Thus we go from rooster, to cat, to dog, and upwards until the song fades out on a stampede of wild elephants, which fades into the distance, leaving only the rooster again. In a brilliant editing move, Martin deftly cross-cuts the start of a rooster crow with….

Track 5: Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band (Reprise)
…a guitar note! The band’s road manager Neil Aspinall had suggested the band do a reprise of the first track, considering it had been an “introductory” song, and the album could wind down with a “closing” song as well. This version, recorded exactly two months after the original, was a rocking interpretation, a rousing “thank you and good night” track lasting just a minute and a half. It was recorded in one marathon session of multiple takes (mainly due to the fact that Paul was leaving on a US trip the next day), but for the most part it was recorded nearly completely live, with very little overdubbing of vocals and a few light touches. It’s short, but it’s nothing but solid playing from everyone involved.

Track 6: A Day in the Life
Though this track was recorded relatively early in the sessions (19-20 January, with additional work done a week or so later), by the time they finished recording, they knew that this absolutely had to be the last track on the album, no question. It’s long been considered one of their best compositions, and given the amount of time dedicated to it (a total 34 hours, twenty-two more than the entirety of Please Please Me!), it’s by far one of their most complex productions. There are three distinct parts–the first and third, written mostly by John and taken from recent newspaper articles (the death of friend Tara Browne in a car accident, the report that the roads in Blackburn were filled with potholes, and so on), and the middle section provided mostly by Paul (a simple nostalgic trip of riding the double-decker bus through Liverpool when he was younger), each with its own personality. The first part is performed with deliberate slowness, starting quietly but growing increasingly louder until we reach the end. The link to part two is via a crazy idea from Paul and Martin, in which an orchestra plays an unscripted rise from the instrument’s lowest note up to its highest in the space of 24 bars. That link serves not just to wind up the listener but the speed, as Paul’s section comes in double-time, a bouncy and simple melody meant to evoke a commuter running late. The second gives way to a third part via an absolutely breathtaking eight bars–it’s not complex, but listen to how Martin takes a simple four-note score and makes it dynamic by gradually increasing the volume. In part three we’ve returned to an abbreviated repeat of John’s first section, played double-time as well…only to be brought back to that nightmarish ascension again. This time, once everyone hits that high E, we’re left floating up in the air for a brief second…only to come crashing down–hard–on a final low E chord. That final breathtaking moment is played by John, Paul, Ringo and Mal Evans on three pianos and George Martin on a harmonium, and is drawn out to nearly forty seconds via the recording level being brought up as high as possible as the piano’s natural reverberation slowly fades.

[And in typical Beatle fashion, just as the listener is left breathless, the original UK pressings of the album had a quick few seconds’ banter added just at the right moment that it would be played in the runout groove, thus causing it to be played in an infinite loop until the stylus was picked up. It’s since been added in a fake loop on the CD version, and is found in its brief three-second form on the US compilation Rarities under the title “Sgt Pepper Inner Groove”.]

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Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was released during the height of the Summer of Love–1 June in the UK, and 2 June in the US–and was immediately embraced and lauded by nearly every fan and critic. A few critics felt it was a bit over the top, but for the most part, it was considered the band’s ultimate masterpiece. It’s been near or on the top of many Best Ever Rock Album lists, and it’s been celebrated, imitated, and made into multiple tribute albums (one of the best being 1988’s Sgt Pepper Knew My Father, an NME tribute album compiled for a UK teen runaway hotline). It took nearly five months to record and mix, over double the time given for Revolver, and as no tracks had been leaked until its final release, not even the critics knew what to expect. In the end it set the bar up so high that many other bands could only wish to reach that far, but at the same time it gave those same bands something to aim for. Rock music had turned a page, evolving out of its place as a teen commodity and becoming more of an art form. Pop music was still around and had its true fans, but those with a deeper, more emotional tie to the music they loved were finally given something they could fully embrace. The Beatles were well aware of this, and though they still had a firm foothold on the pop charts, they knew that from here on in, they could (and would) try anything.

Next Up: The "All You Need Is Love"/"Baby You're a Rich Man" and "Hello Goodbye"/"I Am the Walrus" singles

Saying “no” for the first time in years must have come as a deep relief to the Beatles.

By the end of 1966, two versions of the band existed. On the one hand, there was the happy-go-lucky, plucky, mop-topped foursome seen by the media and the fans. They were the boys with the quick wit and the catchy and simple pop songs everyone knew and loved. They were the boys seen in A Hard Day’s Night, Help!, and the American cartoon series. On the other hand…they were four utterly exhausted young men, four professional musicians stuck in an unending purgatory of inane press questions, and surrounded by mindless screaming fans who couldn’t hear a damn note they played anyway. They were a band recording songs miles away from the simplicity of “She Loves You” and “I Want To Hold Your Hand”, songs they couldn’t play live because they were too complex (not to mention the fans still wanted “She Loves You” three years on). They were desperate to move on, before they became sad caricatures of themselves.

By the fall of 1966, they’d had enough. They stopped touring, passed up a large number of public appearances (and willingly provided their “promotional films” for a reasonable price instead), and, to top it all off, decided not to record a second album for the year. Brian Epstein was understandably frustrated and worried, but in the end he accepted the truth that his charges had simply had enough. With this, Epstein, George Martin, and the band all agreed that they would at least put something out for the Christmas season, and EMI decided on a ‘greatest hits’ compilation. It would only be released in the UK and created primarily to ensure that a majority of the group’s songs and singles were available in the UK, including the rarity “Bad Boy” (only released on the US album Beatles VI in 1965 at that point).

In effect, there would be no new releases for the band, at least not until 1967, with a single in February and a new album in June. It was an extremely risky move for any band, but they felt their sanity and their health was worth that risk.

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Credit: discogs.com

Album: A Collection of Beatles’ Oldies
Released: 9 December 1966

This production was a relatively quick gathering of hits from the past three years, with just a bit of tweaking. The album was to be released in both mono and stereo (just like the previous albums), and considering that all the UK singles to this point had been released only in mono, this called for five of the tracks to quickly be remixed into stereo. This job was given to George Martin, who worked on them over four days (31 October, 7 November, 8 November, and 10 November), with nary a Beatle in sight. The earlier tracks proved to be a bit trickier–many of the 1963 tracks had been recorded on two-track, which necessitated a “fake stereo” remix of “She Loves You” (the original master had been destroyed, so engineer Geoff Emerick created one by placing the low end frequencies on the left and the high end frequencies on the right) and a sort-of-stereo remix of “From Me to You” (the two-track tape divided, music on the left and the vocals on the right). The others were tidied up, and by the last day everything was good to go.

Side A
Track 1: She Loves You
From the single, originally released 23 August 1963.
Track 2: From Me to You
From the single, originally released 11 April 1963.
Track 3: We Can Work It Out
From the ‘Day Tripper’/’We Can Work It Out’ single, originally released 12 March 1965.
Track 4: Help!
From the single, originally released 23 July 1965, and the album Help!, originally released 6 August 1965.
Track 5: Michelle
From the album Rubber Soul, originally released 3 December 1965.
Track 6: Yesterday
From the album Help!, originally released 6 August 1965.
Track 7: I Feel Fine
From the single, originally released 27 November 1964.
Track 8: Yellow Submarine
From the ‘Yellow Submarine’/’Eleanor Rigby’ single and the album Revolver, both originally released 5 August 1966.

Side B
Track 1: Can’t Buy Me Love
From the single, originally released 20 March 1964, and the album A Hard Day’s Night, originally released 10 July 1964.
Track 2: Bad Boy
The sole “new” track, at least in the UK. This Larry Williams original was recorded the same night (10 May 1965) as another Williams track, “Dizzy Miss Lizzie”. In an extremely rare move, this song was recorded specifically for the American market, who were at this time still creating their own Beatle discography separate from the official UK one. They’d figured the cover might show up on a UK EP sometime later, but never surfaced until this compilation. It’s one of their many pre-fame covers, and so they were able to record it quickly (seven takes of a two and a half minute song, plus overdubbed vocals).
Track 3: Day Tripper
From the ‘Day Tripper’/’We Can Work It Out’ single.
Track 4: A Hard Day’s Night
From the single, and the album A Hard Day’s Night, both originally released 10 July 1964.
Track 5: Ticket to Ride
From the single, originally released 9 April 1965, and the album Help!, originally released 6 August 1965.
Track 6: Paperback Writer
From the single, originally released 10 June 1966.
Track 7: Eleanor Rigby
From the ‘Yellow Submarine’/’Eleanor Rigby’ single and the album Revolver, both originally released 5 August 1966.
Track 8: I Want to Hold Your Hand
From the single, originally released 29 November 1963.

All in all, a quick release for the always-busy fourth quarter, but for a band that had only been recording professionally for just shy of four years, it was an excellent cross-section of their many and varying sounds over that time.  In retrospect, it’s also a great overview of what would be the first half of the Beatles’ main output:  well-crafted and catchy pop, interspersed with the occasional stroke of early genius.

*     *     *

Credit: jpgr.co.uk – The Beatles Complete UK Discography site

Single: Pantomime: Everywhere It’s Christmas
Released to the Beatles’ Official Fan Club: 16 December 1966

This was quite a change from their previous Christmas releases, and quite possibly their most enjoyable. Instead of being semi-written by their press secretary Tony Barrow, the boys took it upon themselves to write ten short and silly pantomimes–a long-standing British holiday tradition of short and often humorous skits and music put on for family or audiences. The band had done their fair share of them over the years, both with family and with the Christmas shows they’d put on at the Hammersmith Odeon. Recorded not at Abbey Road but in the basement studio of their music publishing office, Dick James Music, it contains a few short original songs similar to old vaudeville tunes interspersed with equally short (and often unresolved!) skits. The end result is nearly seven minutes of comic absurdity and silliness.

*      *      *

It may have seemed to the public that the band had decided to take the rest of the year off, but in reality they remained busy, just on their own terms. It just so happened that they were now in between recording contracts–the previous one had been fulfilled by the singles and the Collection album–and a new one would not arrive until late January 1967, so they did not need to write or record a thing if they didn’t want to. They were at a crossroads–they were no longer a touring band, they had no pressing projects, and their music had evolved beyond anyone’s expectations. They were truly at a point where they could do whatever they wanted.

Once all recording was done for Revolver and the last tour was finished, the four went their separate ways to contemplate their next moves.

John took up director Richard Lester’s offer to take a role in his next film, How I Won the War, and filming took place between 6 September and 6 November (a week in West Germany, and the rest of the time in southern Spain). He shocked the world and got an army-regulation haircut and was given a pair of round-framed National Health glasses for the role of Private Gripweed. The hair quickly grew out after filming, but the glasses became a signature look and to this day are still sometimes referred to as “Lennon specs”. Of course, the schedule of a film production is often long and sometimes quite boring, with a lot of standing around, and not much to do when one is not needed. John of course spent his evenings reading and visiting friends, and writing music. It was here that he would write what would be their next single and take the band into a new and uncharted direction.

Paul, in the meantime, kept busy with friends and family. Earlier in the year he’d purchased and moved into a house on Cavendish Avenue in London, conveniently a few blocks away from Abbey Road Studios, and not too far from Mick Jagger’s house in Regent’s Park. In addition to this, now that he’d gotten his own place, he found himself immersed in art. In late 1965 and early 1966 he’d helped friends open up the Indica Gallery in London, and to decorate his new house he’d started purchasing artworks. He found himself fascinated by Belgian surrealist René Magritte and purchased a few of his paintings, including one of an apple–which would, in a year or so down the line, be the inspiration for their next venture, Apple Corps. And lastly, in late November he had tapped Epstein’s production company for a possible movie scoring project. Out of that came the score for The Family Way, a Hayley Mills drama-comedy based on the 1963 play All In Good Time. The music itself was recorded by George Martin with an orchestra, but one can definitely hear McCartneyisms in the soundtrack. Much of the incidental music contains simple passages that don’t amount to too much, but the recurring theme, later dubbed “Love In the Open Air” for a single release, has Paul writing a haunting yet beautiful theme that could fit easily alongside “For No One” or “In My Life”. [Interestingly, this soundtrack is often not considered the first solo Beatle release, as Paul only scored it but did does not appear on the record.]

George, on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to do with his spare time. Since hearing the Indian music played during the restaurant scene in Help!, he’d become fascinated not only with the music but the culture. In early September he flew to India to study the sitar, as well as learn Yoga and philosophy. The journey would be a pivotal one, as it would change his whole outlook on life and become an extremely spiritual person until his passing in 2001. It would also deeply affect his songwriting, which he felt had been stuck in stasis for years (not to mention stifled by his bandmates John and Paul), and had only begun to truly bloom on Revolver. Upon return, his songs would still be overshadowed by the others, but they would be much stronger and more confident. By 1968 he would have his own movie to score (the trippy misfire Wonderwall), and by 1970 he would have a double album’s worth of songs ready to release to wild acclaim.

Ringo, of course, decided to do little but stay with his family in Surrey for the time they spent apart. It may have been the least adventurous thing to do, but given their schedule since they began years ago, I would most likely have chosen the same thing!

By the time they reconvened on 24 November, they began recording that song John had written in Spain, and kick off a new phase of their recording career.

Next Up: The “Strawberry Fields Forever”/”Penny Lane” single and Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

It had certainly been one hell of a ride for the Beatles in the few years they’d been a professional (and prolific) band with hit singles and albums. Considering their auspicious debut in the autumn of 1962, the two albums a year, the non-album singles, concerts, television and radio appearances, and two feature films, they’d done all this with rarely any time to unwind. It was a runaway train with way too many people at the switch, and something was due to go catastrophically wrong sometime soon. If they were going to continue as a band, the four boys would definitely need to gain some personal control pretty damn quick.

It seemed that the first half of 1966 would be relatively calm and pretty much the same as it had the last two years–go out on tour, do the usual media appearances, and somehow squeeze the recording of an album in there. This time they gave themselves some breathing room: three full months of vacation! From January to April, the public at large saw neither hide nor moptopped hair of the band. This time is for the most part unchronicled, but most biographies have the four going their separate ways and doing their own thing: John living at his home in Weybridge and weighing his future with Cynthia and son Julian; Paul with his on-again, off-again relationship with Jane Asher, George thinking about his future (and near the end of the year, post-tour, heading over to India to expand his knowledge of Indian music), and Ringo mainly hanging with family and everyone else. It was only three months, but it was a much needed escape from the nonstop insanity they could barely escape. By 6 April they were back in the studio, ready to record their next album. As they had no feature film to shoot this time out, they could afford to take their time on this, and they gave themselves a good two and a half months on this project, recording up until 21 June.

From there, they would go on yet another globe-trotting tour until August. They had not told anyone this (and had only mentioned it to the closest members of their inner circle), but at this point they had already decided that this was going to be their last ever tour, at least until further notice. It had ceased being fun for them. More often than not, they had little idea of what city they were in, given that they had become their own prisoners, locked up in hotels night after night. More importantly, the technology of live rock music had not caught up with the clamoring fans at this point; their amplifiers barely reached over the ear-splitting din of thousands of screaming teenagers. They’d admitted as much that their musicianship had faltered to the point of substandard because they couldn’t hear themselves play half the time. Even the ever-jovial John had become outright nasty at times on the tours, yelling at the crowd to shut up–not that they could hear him, of course.

But unhinged fans and the nonexistence of upgraded equipment weren’t the only problems during this touring season. In early April, John had been speaking with a journalist friend, Maureen Cleave, about music and life in general, and John relished this as an intelligent interview–instead of the ridiculously silly questions they were always hit with (about their hair, what kind of drinks they like–the same silly and inane questions they’d heard since 1963!), he was given a platform to talk about real things–what did he feel about the world in general? At that point, he’d been reading a lot about religion (more on this later), and he’d uttered the (in)famous words “Christianity will go. It will vanish and shrink. I needn’t argue with that; I’m right and will be proved right. We’re more popular than Jesus now.” An off-the-cuff statement to be sure, but he hadn’t meant that as a slur at all; he’d meant that his fans were more excited and involved with popular media (and the Beatles in particular) than they were about religion. It has been published in the London Evening Standard soon after, with very little fanfare. It wasn’t until late July, that Datebook, a US teen magazine, reprinted the quote and blew it into a major scandal. The resulting outcry led to record banning and burning, angry fans (particularly in specific areas of the US). John later recanted and explained himself, but the damage had been done. Many of their remaining US dates were hit with suspiciously “accidental” problems such as lack of canopy during an outdoor show, locked gates at terminals, and halfhearted security.

That wasn’t all; in June they had played their only shows in Japan, a five-show/three-day event at Nippon Budokan–at that time a sacred arena only reserved for judo matches, which caused a major flap there. Their next show was on 4 July in the Philippines, which ended up a complete fiasco: they’d publicly been invited to visit President Marcos and a number of young fans at the Palace–which they had no prior knowledge of until the last minute–and had refused to commit due to it being scheduled under an hour before showtime. This was perceived as a slight against the country, and the government made sure their remaining time in the country was as hellish as possible. They’d been charged with not paying income taxes from the show’s receipts (which the promoter was currently withholding); the security that was to escort them from the hotel to the airport had curiously been withdrawn; the airport manager had refused to give them assistance; authorities had conveniently “lost” the records of the band arriving, thus making them potential illegal immigrants. And after all was said and done and the band and entourage had finally lifted off, the government sent out a Parthian shot to the press stating that the Beatles had meant no slight to the First Lady at all. By far, one of the worst touring experiences of any band, ever.

By the time they finished playing their last ever show in front of a paying audience at Candlestick Park in San Francisco on 31 August, George (supposedly) said it best as their plane took off: “Well, that’s it. I’m not a Beatle anymore.” They had had enough.

It was time to become a full-fledged studio band.

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Credit: jpgr.co.uk – The Beatles Complete UK Discography site

Single: “Paperback Writer”/”Rain”
Released: 10 June 1966

The band’s latest recording sessions in 1966 continued the sonic exploration and invention they’d begun with the Rubber Soul sessions the year before, moving further into uncharted territories. They weren’t so much given carte blanche in the studio, as much as they’d just gone ahead and done it without asking to see if they could get away with it. April had been quite the month for inventing new sounds, and on the 14th and 16th of that month they worked on what would become their next non-album single. They’d stretched the boundaries lyrically and musically with their previous single “We Can Work It Out” with its multiple segments and changing time signatures, but now they began playing with sonic changes–variable speed, pumped up bass lines, and even reversed tape. This single would be the gateway to an all-new Beatles sound that would far outpace not just their previous efforts, but those of their peers.

Side A: Paperback Writer
The new Beatle sound invites us in with a glorious multilayered a capella vocal from Paul, John and George, and kicked into high gear with Ringo’s incredibly fast-paced drumming (listen closely to his high-hat triplets between the third and fourth beat) and a stellar riff from Paul that repeats throughout the song. There’s some question as to whether that’s also Paul on the bass (session worker Ian McDonald claims that’s Paul on bass and George on guitar, but session pictures show the opposite), but regardless, the bass line is the key here. Story goes that John had once questioned a few people as to why the bass guitar in a certain Wilson Pickett song sounded so much more up front than any Beatles track to that date, and this particular sound was the result. Historically, the bass at that time was mixed relatively low to avoid the stylus on record players from jumping from the vibrations, but thanks to a recent acquisition of equipment by EMI that could create louder and deeper master recordings, they were able to punch up the low end. The result was the first Beatles single mixed louder than anything they’d previously done.

Also of note is the link above to the official visual for the song–the band had previously toyed with proto-music videos in 1965, but they had all been shot on video with very little thought to quality or expense. With this song and its flipside, however, they’d hired director Michael Lindsay-Hogg to shoot visuals on film. The end result was a new unexpected visual for music at the time–in color and in higher definition, in a real setting instead of on a prefabricated stage. As they had decided not to tour anymore and would cut down considerably on media appearances, they had decided this would be the best form of promotion from here on in.

Side B: Rain
This stunning b-side has all sorts of interesting tricks up its sleeve, starting with its speed, of all things. Deep into their growing love for studio experimentation, they found that slowing tracks down often gave their songs a fuller, beefier sound (especially with the guitars–that low note just past the breakdown is one hell of a great gut-punch), and it’s quite evident on this track. The backing track was recorded nearly a half-step up and slowed down at normal speed, while John’s vocal was recorded at a slower speed to play faster in playback. There’s also the well-documented first appearance of a backwards recording in a Beatles song, the first line of the first verse inserted in backwards at the end of the song. Ringo often stated this was one of his personal favorites they recorded, and it’s not hard to see why–he shows quite a masterful sense of timing here, not just with the opening beats (that first double-hit is on the upbeat) but with the breakdown near the end of the song.

[Note: There were three promotional films shot for this–one is in color at Chiswick House, and two takes in black and white in an otherwise darkened studio. The version I’ve linked to here was shown during the Anthology TV series, and is an edit of all three.]

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Credit: discogs.com

Album: Revolver
Released: 5 August 1966

This album was destined from the start to be unlike any other album out there. They had always kept their public appearances and their personal creations separate, always aiming to write and record music on their own terms and not others’. With very few exceptions–the written-to-order “A Hard Day’s Night” and the occasional song written specifically for another performer–they catered only to their own whims. This was especially important as all four were uniquely and actively creative in their own ways, and were always keen on trying something new…especially if it hadn’t been done before by anyone else. Setting the tone for the entire sessions, the first track recorded would sound unlike anything else out there at the time. And given that they’d only recorded “She Loves You” just shy of three years previous, it was indeed a step in a direction no one else would have expected of the band at all.

The album set the standard for electric guitar-based rock, inspired thousands of musicians, consistently reaches a high placing in any “best albums of all time” charts, and is often touted as the top favorite Beatles album of many fans (including myself). The whole album is bursting with creativity, even down to the collage-and-drawing cover done by their Hamburg friend Klaus Voormann. There’s also the introduction of a new recording technique–artificial double-tracking, or ADT–which would automatically double-track their vocals, leaving the laborious task of double-tracking themselves to the tape operator. In short, the vocals would be slightly altered by an oscillator and thus creating a second, perfectly-matched vocal line that would fill out the vocal delivery. It’s an album full of classic Beatle moments, fresh new ideas, and hardly a weak filler song in the bunch. It’s a record so perfect for the band that even the four members considered it one of their best achievements.

Side A

Track 1: Taxman
The album starts out with the first of three Harrison tunes, this time a clever (and literal) dig at the price of fame. It’s an incredibly tight recording–so tight it sounds sparse, full of clipped notes and short, harsh guitar fills with sixth and ninth chords, and a scathing attack of a guitar solo. It was recorded a few weeks into the new sessions (started 21 April and finished sometime later), and while it doesn’t contain any real experimentation, it does benefit from the new louder sound mixing. This turned into a fan favorite many years down the road, to the point that The Jam “borrowed” the sound for their single “Start!” in 1980.

Track 2: Eleanor Rigby
Paul’s first track is a hauntingly beautiful ballad that, like “Yesterday”, features only himself on vocals (with John and George only contributing to the “ahh look at all the lonely people” chorus), but bypasses that song on a number of levels. While the former song is a sad lament, this is a bleak character study of missed opportunities and, yes, lonely people–another example of songwriting they’d never tried before. George Martin scored the string octet (four violins, two violas and two cellos), giving the song a baroque feel. Interestingly it was agreed by not just Paul and Martin but the session musicians that playing sans vibrato gave the track an even sadder feel. [Another one of my top favorite tracks of theirs for quite a few reasons!]

Track 3: I’m Only Sleeping
This trippy song of John’s is another good example of his writing a song about nothing…but in this case, it’s inspired by his purposely doing nothing. The three month respite had seen him do little but hang out in his Weybridge home, watching television, napping, and doing little else (aside from some recreational drug use), and it was a blessedly needed change from the frenetic pace of the last few years. In retrospect, this could be a parallel to his much later solo song “Watching the Wheels”–the theme is nearly the same, dismissing the nonstop movement of society and instead accepting his own leisurely pace. Of note here is another appearance of reversed recording–this time it’s Paul and George noodling around in the studio to create a backwards guitar solo.

[In another example of always finding something new every time I listen to this band, I always thought that sound at exactly 2:00 in was Paul or John making an odd noise in the studio, but it’s actually Paul yawning!]

Track 4: Love You To
George returns with a second track, and his first song directly inspired by his growing love for Indian music. Recorded in a single evening, it features George as the sole Beatle on nearly the entire track; Ringo is present on tambourine and Paul provided early takes on backing vocals (which did not make the final mix). Nearly everything else is played and sung by George alone, with only session musician Anil Bhagwat playing the tabla. It’s a phenomenal track that mixes the mystical sound of Indian instruments (a gorgeous alap intro holds the song for a full half minute before everything else joins in) with a distinctly English electric guitar providing counterpoint. Certainly an incredible step from three years previous when he wrote “Don’t Bother Me”.

Track 5: Here, There and Everywhere
As Rubber Soul inspired Brian Wilson to record the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, thus Pet Sounds inspired Paul to write this gentle but gorgeous ballad. It’s surprisingly simple all around–its lyrics harken back to their early love songs, and the vocal delivery is merely a shifting triad chord (the first, third and fifth notes in an octave). But its simplicity is what gives it its charm–it’s a beautifully crafted and timeless pop gem that could have been released at any point in time and still work. Both Paul and John considered this one of their top favorite Beatle tracks.

Track 6: Yellow Submarine
Ringo’s vocal turn this time out is an absolutely charming and lovable song written by Paul and John, specifically for him. This time out it’s an imaginative song of fantasy, a story of living in a fanciful submarine where everyone could come and live and play. Paul had envisioned it as an old fisherman telling tall tales to a youngster–the original version (found on the b-side of the “Real Love” single) has an spoken word introduction that captures the feel of nautical adventures. Even the recording itself sounds like a party–there’s whooshing waves, burbling bubbles, fleet calls, steamship noises, marching feet, clanging chains and a singalong at the end, all recorded 1 June. It might by a silly and slight song, but it’s still loved by many, and would be used as the theme (musically and plotwise) to their next film a few years later.

Track 7: She Said She Said
Another trippy song from John, this time a track inspired not just by LSD but by a strange poolside conversation he and George had had with actor Peter Fonda back in August of 1965. Multiple sources offer varying versions of what happened that day other than that nearly everyone had gotten wasted on the drug, and that Fonda had been saying increasingly weird things that alternately fascinated and bothered the band. This track is nearly a throwaway, as it had been hastily written and ended up being the last thing recorded for the sessions when they realized they were one song short.

Side B

Track 1: Good Day Sunshine
Paul opens up the second side with an upbeat vaudevillian-style pop song partly inspired by the Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Daydream”. While John might sing about sleeping, Paul prefers the great outdoors here, ready to take a lovely walk in the park. It’s a relatively sparse sing, with Paul on piano and bass, and Ringo on drums–George and John do not play on this song, only offering backing vocals. At the time, this was considered one of the quickest Beatle songs put to tape; after a number of taped but uncounted run-throughs, they recorded three takes of the backing track and chose Take 1 as the best, then sprinkled a few overdubs here and there over the following days. Of note is George Martin’s honky-tonk piano solo, recorded at a slower speed to make it sound peppier.

Track 2: And Your Bird Can Sing
There’s some speculation as to what (or who) this song of John’s is really about, but that’s secondary to what is probably some of the best guitar playing of the Beatles career up to this point. George and Paul play in tandem here, releasing a wonderfully chiming riff that opens the song and punctuates each verse, and comes to a ringing coda on an unexpected note. It’s an incredibly fun song that might not be about anything at all–so much so that the Anthology version has John and Paul breaking up into hysterics as they try to lay down vocals.

Track 3: For No One
As if to counterpoint the upbeat qualities of the two previous songs, Paul comes back with another ballad, this one a bitter take on a relationship nearing its end. The entire song sounds fragile: the high piano is doubled by an equally high clavichord (both played by Paul), with Ringo providing slight percussion duties. Session player Alan Civil plays a delicate French horn passage (Paul had heard him play on the radio a few nights previous and felt it would be a perfect fit) that’s both uplifting and melancholy at the same time. This one isn’t so much a song about regret, as it is about acceptance and relief, and enduring the pain.

Track 4: Doctor Robert
One thing can be said about John’s mid-era Beatles songs–he was able to write about something (or in this case, someone) in his life and hide it in plain sight. In this case, it’s a fun, lightweight pop song with innocuous lyrics about a doctor with the ability to make you feel better no matter what the ailment (and in reality, a paean to one or more people they knew who supplied them with drugs). The lyrics are very typical of the British folk movement, short melodramatic vignettes about one person or another, so if you weren’t aware of the band’s recreational drug use at the time, it would fit in perfectly alongside “Yellow Submarine” as nothing more than fluff.

Track 5: I Want to Tell You
George’s third offering is a fabulous piece of subtlety–on the surface it sounds like a man in love at a loss for words, but the further you go, the song is really about the inability to truly express one’s thoughts and emotions, fighting for the right words to say that may or may not be there. To expand on the frustration in the lyrics, George “created” a new chord at the end of each verse, hitting an E-flat 7th chord with an F thrown in to give it a noticeable dissonance. It’s not just the chords, either; the drums are loud and loose, as is Paul’s piano playing, giving the mix a somewhat slippery feeling…making it just that much harder to grasp whatever it is George is trying to say.

Track 6: Got to Get You Into My Life
This could very well be yet another drug-inspired song (Paul, in his book Many Years from Now, casually mentions that it’s about marijuana), but musically, it’s a fabulous and energetic homage to the sounds of Tamla Motown soul. Three trumpets and two tenor saxophones almost take center stage on this song, miked with the pickups inside the bells, that it comes out as one impressive wall of noise. It took them some time to figure out exactly how they wanted this one to sound, as they’d recorded the main backing tracks on 7 April, but didn’t get around to adding the horns and vocals until 17 June. In turn, ended up an excellent and well-loved pop tune.

Track 7: Tomorrow Never Knows
It’s hard to find the best words for this track, as it’s considered one of the biggest defining moments in the Beatles catalogue. It’s just on the verge of avant-garde, just shy of being an Indian raga, and still manages to be a full-fledged rock song the likes of which no one had ever heard before. Inspired by the recent books on religion John was reading at the time, he came up with this absolutely stunning track. The first thing you hear is the droning tamboura, dizzily pulling you into a wild ride of metaphysical lyrics, a tape-looped jungle of unearthly sound effects, and some of the most unbridled instrument playing and sound production they’d ever put to tape. John’s voice is filtered through a rotating Leslie speaker on the last verse, Ringo beats the hell out of his kit with a jilted beat, Paul hammers on the bass and provides a reversed guitar solo, and George doubles himself on sitar. It’s just shy of three minutes long and never leaves the key of C, but it’s one hell of a ride. And consider this: the track was recorded on the first day of the Revolver sessions…a mere three years after they recorded “She Loves You”. For quite obvious reasons, this song is considered one a top favorite of quite a number of fans–including myself, of course–simply because it’s one of those songs that leaves you completely speechless.

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Revolver can easily be considered the start of the next phase of the Beatles discography. While it might bear some slight resemblance to its predecessor–songs like “Doctor Robert” and “And Your Bird Can Sing” fit quite nicely on the US album Yesterday and Today alongside the singles and Rubber Soul tracks on that album–it remains its own entity as well. While the previous album was more acoustic and folk oriented, Revolver is most definitely a rock record, aimed at amplification. It also proved that if the band was given time and space and little disruption, they could stretch their boundaries even further. If they gave themselves two and a half months to work on a masterpiece, one could only wonder what would happen, now that they were no longer a touring band.

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Credit: discogs.com

Single: “Yellow Submarine”/”Eleanor Rigby”
Released: 5 August 1966

There’s not too much to add here that I haven’t already mentioned above, other than that this single ended up being their second deliberate “double A side” single (either song could be the radio hit), and the first single with Ringo on lead vocals. And despite the simplicity of the song (and the ongoing negative media frenzy due to John’s words on Christianity), it hit the top spot on the charts in the UK and hit number 2 in the US, blocked only by the Supremes’ “You Can’t Hurry Love”.

And on a more personal note, this was the first Beatles single I ever owned–I don’t exactly remember how or where I procured it, but I know it was soon after I bought 1967-1970 (aka ‘The Blue Album’), and right about the same time I started obsessing over them and watching Yellow Submarine on TV each time it came on. I also distinctly remember being somewhat frightened by “Eleanor Rigby” as a child due to its haunting sound and lyrics–but I’ve definitely come to love this song as a wonderful piece of history.

Next Up: A Collection of Beatles’ Oldies and Pantomime: Everywhere It’s Christmas