Tag Archives: George Martin

Favorite Beatles Album: Revolver

Posted on August 1, 2020 | 1 comment

Revolver
1966, Parlophone. Producer: George Martin.
Purchased Vinyl, 1988.

IN A NUTSHELL: Revolver has it all. Every song sounds new, and each has its own style. The band swerves from gentle love songs to caustic rockers; fun kids’ music to heart-wrenching grown-up songs; Byrds-ian folk-rock to experimental drone. And throughout the record, the amazing vocals – harmonies, backup, lead – guitars, drums and bass remain intact. The playground that was the modern 1966 recording studio is added to that genius, giving the record the sound of four expert musicians (and an unmatched producer) in full control of all their powers having the time of their life.

NOTE: The setup – below the line ↓ – might be the best part … Or skip right to the album discussion.

~ ~ ~

And now: NUMBER 1!! But first – my favorite Beatles’ ALBUM COVERS, ranked, in order, from #1 to #13.

**#1: *Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band*.** (Rutles version here.) A great concept perfectly executed. You could stare at this album cover for hours. The image is now part of the world’s collective artistic consciousness. My favorite part is the doll’s shirt, which reads “Welcome The Rolling Stones.” The Stones returned the favor by embedding four little Beatle head images on the cover of their psychedelic album, “Their Satanic Majesty’s Request.”

**#2: *Abbey Road*.** Another iconic image that lingers in peoples’ minds everywhere. So many stories, so many theories. Proof that Paul is Dead! (28IF! Bare feet! Out of step!) It’s simple and classic. Often overlooked about the image: that curved line of parked cars beyond them receding into green trees and blue sky is really cool-looking.

**#3: *With the Beatles*.** (Rutles version here.) Stark black and white, half-lit faces, the hair just brushing their ears… It’s another indelible image. I find it interesting that John is so much more prominent than the others, the only one with his face fully visible.

**#4: *Yellow Submarine*.** Groovy cartoons, psychedelic colors, a world of hippy-dippy dynamism. Not too many album covers are more “of-their-era” than this one!

**#5: *The Beatles*.** The anti-album cover. And I love that “The Beatles” is not printed level. In the words of Bobbi Flekman, Polymer Records Artist Relations and hostess with the most-est, “A sexy album cover isn’t why an album sells! The White Album? What was that? There was NOTHING on that goddamn cover!”

**#6: *A Hard Day’s Night*.** Five-times the Beatle faces than your normal record! This album deftly says “soundtrack” by mimicking film footage. George wins the photos with the back of his head and a cool cigarette.

**#7: *Rubber Soul*.** The groovy 60s font and the elongated, hairy Beatle heads really give a strong hint that the boys’ songs are starting to change with this record.

#8: *Help!* (Rutles version here.) Spelled out in semaphore code, that’s N – U – J -V. Wait, what? Apparently the real semaphore HELP didn’t look as cool. But the point was made, right?

#9: *Please Please Me*. Ah, the cute boy-band days! A great shot on their first album that gives the impression that the band is moving up. Quite prescient. And I love that they reproduced the shot for their “Greatest Hits 1967-1970” album.

#10: *Let it Be.* (Rutles version here.) Like those pictures you saved, for some reason, of yourself with girlfriends or boyfriends past, depending on one’s mood this cover can seem wistfully pleasant, deeply embarrassing, or simply rage-inducing.

**#11: *Magical Mystery Tour* (US LP).** (Rutles version here.) I’m disinclined to appreciate any album cover that lists all the song titles on the front. It seems lazy. Even the star-studded “BEATLES” and goofy costumes don’t save this one.

**#12: *Beatles for Sale*.** The only good thing about this record is that the four Beatles are quite photogenic. Everything about this cover screams “Take the damn picture! We have a record to get on the shelves!!” (For an album called *Beatles for Sale*, maybe that was the point?? Was Parlophone savvier than I ever realized?)

It pains me to say it, since I love love love the songs so much, but I just find this album cover … amateurish. To me it looks like a rough draft that was accidentally approved.

“Okay, Klaus,” someone at Parlophone said to Klaus Voorman, the cover illustrator, an artist and Beatle-friend, and future Lennon bassist. “We’ll go with this one!”

“Great, I’ll get started on the final version.”

“What? No – there’s no time. We’re just going to use this one – as it is.”

“But all I’ve really finalized are the intricate strands of hair on the four large faces. The photos are just slapped in, the drawings are just sketches, it’s incomplete … why, I only just gave Ringo and George the photograph eyeballs, and three of them don’t have the photograph lips …”

“Thanks, Klaus. Goodbye.”

One thing that always confused me about the cover was the smaller line drawing between the larger heads of John and Paul. There are four images, four Beatles, one would presume. The bottom two are clearly John and Paul. But the top two … are they supposed to be George and Ringo?

I always thought they looked more like Keith Richards and Mick Jagger:

Starting at the bottom, Paul is gazing up and John appears self-satisfied, and then the “Mick” figure looks distressed. It’s as if he’s hearing the amazing songs on Revolver and thinking, “our songs are shit, aren’t they[ref]To be clear, I do not think the Stones’ songs are shit. (Mostly).[/ref]?” And the dark-eyed head above “Mick” must be zombie-eyed, drug-hazed Keith, sulking against a balled-up fist, no? For years I thought this was a great knock by one talented songwriting pair on another talented pair. After all, the bands had a well-known (and completely manufactured) rivalry.

But I recently noticed something about “Mick,” something that makes it clear I’ve been wrong. It also indicates that others may have told Klaus that they dug his Glimmer Twins stunt. He made sure that the person’s namesake jewelry are clearly visible on both of “Mick’s” hands.

So I suppose it is The Fab Four after all, even though I’m not convinced the likenesses of Harrison and Starr are all that accurate. I’m especially unconvinced because I’ve seen several thousands of pictures of George and Ringo over the years, and I will bet everything I own that both men, in 1966, had, in fact, no more than two arms each. Yet, this doesn’t appear to be the case on the cover of Revolver.

Pictured, bottom to top, with hands annotated: Paul, John, “Ringo,” “George.”

And there’s one more question I have about the drawings: who the heck is popping out of Paul’s ear, apparently listening with displeasure?

When I tried googling, I came up with a phony April Fool’s column from 15 years ago, which claimed the figure is Paul. But it looks less like Paul than George and Ringo look like George and Ringo, so I don’t buy it. Others on a Beatle Fan site say the figure is artist Voorman. Perhaps? He clearly wasn’t great at drawing good likenesses of others, so one would expect a self-portrait would also be difficult. (Okay, that was a cheap shot. I can’t draw AT ALL – and he’s clearly an actual artist!) I would love to know who that is. If you know, please leave a comment!

But enough of the pictures … let’s get to the sound. Strap in for a long post, as I’ve gotta go pretty deep on Number One! And Number One on Number One is “Taxman.”

The Beatles have always known how to open an album. Please Please Me shot their canon out of a cannon with an urgent count-off. With the Beatles and Beatles For Sale opened with bare voices. A Hard Day’s Night featured the most famous chord ever, and Help! a shouted plea. Rubber Soul began with a classic guitar and bass riff. In 1966, Revolver opens with a cough, a creepy fake count-in and then the real McCoy. “Taxman” is the first Harrison song to open a Beatles album, and it is a song that is equal to the task. The bass riff by McCartney is a rock classic, and Ringo’s drumming (the fill at 0:21) and percussion (tambourine at 0:34, cowbell at 0:49) are excellent. Speaking of bass, check out what Paul does around 0:55 – he’s incredible. He also played the George-esque, raga-inflected guitar solo at 1:13. The harmonies are terrific throughout, as George complains about taxes that, at 95% for the extremely wealthy in 1965 UK, do sound rather high[ref]Then again, if Bezos lost 95% of his wealth he’d still have $9B, and maybe we’d have a decent healthcare system. Oh, but I guess he did ‘earn’ all that money himself … get the fuck outta here.[/ref]. At 1:33 a guitar riff mirrors the bass, and it sounds so good! As does the outro solo. What a way to open a record!

And they follow it up with a completely different song, and a completely new pop sound: the string quartet!

Actually, it’s a double string quartet, a string octet, I suppose, and it gives the song a melancholia that perfectly captures the loneliness described in the lyrics. Paul sings lead, and the harmonies of John and George (which have their own Wikipedia section) are brilliant, as is the contrapuntal “look at all the lonely people.” I like a variety of sounds and styles on my albums, which is a big part of why my #1 non-Beatles album is London Calling. After a guitar rocker and a string quartet, it’s hard to predict what might come next.

How about a drowsy ode to … well, sleep, I guess? … that features guitar recordings played backwards?

“I’m Only Sleeping” has a phenomenal sound. From the acoustic chord that opens the tune, a millisecond before John’s lethargic voice, to the splashing thunk of Ringo’s snare and Paul’s relaxed bass line, there’s a thick feeling of doziness about the track. When George’s backwards guitar lines are added throughout, the result is a song that truly sounds like its lyrical content. The precise “ooos” and harmony backing vocals (I love Paul’s “going by my window,” at 1:16) are wonderful, and provide a dreamy sensation. When Paul yawns at 2:00, one wonders if it’s real! But the song is not boring – that’s what’s amazing. It’s an exciting, interesting song about sleeping. Genius.

So after those three songs, is there any way the boys can mix things up some more? How about an Indian-inflected song about the fleeting nature of life and a philosophy of how to proceed through it?

Yes, yes, it’s certainly ironic that the man who just complained three songs ago about taxes would now be singing about the meaninglessness of money in the context of existence. Hey, people are complex, what can I say? As with “Within You Without You,” on Sgt. Pepper’s, “Love You To” is a song that has grown over the years into one of my favorites. George plays sitar on this song[ref]This is according to most references. Some have said it’s an Indian musician.[/ref], including the 30 second opening of the song, and all the other instruments except the tabla and tanpura. The song has a lovely, droning sound, and it’s enhanced by George and Paul’s close harmony, as at 0:53. Revolver is a record of varying sounds, all of them interesting, and it’s hard to imagine – after all this – what could possibly come next.

How about a brilliant love song, destined to become a standard?

“Here, There and Everywhere” is a song I was fascinated by for years. I’ve always loved how clever the lyrics are. Verse one begins with the word “Here,” verse two with “There,” and the bridge prominently features “Everywhere.” That kind of thing tickles my nerd brain. Often overlooked in the song are Ringo’s subtle, orchestral drums. And how about the background harmony!! Holy moley!! George’s guitar chords are lovely, as is his line that mirrors the melody in the “but to love her is to need here” lyrics. At 1:57 listen for the finger snaps that start – the kind of hidden treasure I love discovering! I’m never as big a fan of Beatles’ love songs as I am of rockers, but “Here, There and Everywhere” is an exception. (Even though I’d prefer an oxford comma in the title.)

The band keeps everyone guessing at what’s coming next on Revolver, and I’d guess that in 1966 few expected the band to release a full-on children’s song.

“Yellow Submarine” is a fun one, perfect for Ringo’s singing style. He gamely describes his seafaring experiences on the ship, and the background noises and voices of the crew have made it an ever-popular song. Of course, the band eventually made a cartoon movie out of the song. I don’t have much to say about it. The band and their friends had a lot of fun recording the song, coming up with sound effects and funny voices.

Childhood whimsy is pushed aside for the brash sounds, drug-induced words and changing meter of one of my favorite songs ever (but not my favorite on Revolver!), “She Said She Said.”

Harrison’s guitar sound on the opening riff is distinctive, even disorienting, and then the bass, also by Harrison[ref]McCartney doesn’t appear on the track. He left the studio due to an argument.[/ref], plays a single note while Ringo throws in an incredible fill to open things up. Lennon’s lyrics are famously from an LSD-influenced conversation he had with actor Peter Fonda, and George provides some Paul-esque high harmonies. Check out Ringo’s drums – just in the first 30 seconds! Throughout the song he’s a monster. And what I really love are all the guitars! It sounds like there are a million. There’s some cool finger-picking (or maybe just pick-picking) during the verses, and of course Harrison’s metallic lead, and it’s all supported by a faint organ underneath. As for song structure, they deftly (Thanks, Ringo!!) shift from 4/4 to 3/4 during the “When I was a boy” bridge. This song ended an amazing Side 1 (back in the day), and one would be right to think it unlikely that Side 2 could be quite as good.

But Side 2 may even be better!! John may have lamented Paul’s “Granny” songs, but “Good Day Sunshine” is a classic number no matter how you describe it.

Lyrically, the song perfectly describes that feeling of being happily in love. The John and George harmonies are terrific, including John’s spoken “she feels good,” as is Paul’s piano. George Martin actually plays the piano solo. It’s just a happy little song, and the band does throw in the Beatley vocal outtro. Revolver just keeps getting better and better, more and more interesting.

And we’ve reached what is likely my favorite Beatles’ song of all time, “And Your Bird Can Sing.”

The dual guitar, played by George and Paul, is just amazing. Through the entire song, they create a riff that’s practically a song unto itself. It opens the song, then from 0:37 to 1:20 a descending version is played through the bridge, then the intro returns, and the bridge is played once again. And behind the entire thing, Paul’s bass is ranging far and wide, culminating in the final verse, where he plays a high triplet (1:25). This figure accents the close, three-part harmony in the third verse, the one where “your bird can swing.” The lyrics are apparently about Frank Sinatra, John’s take after reading a glowing article in Esquire on the by-then-out-of-fashion crooner. But we can never be sure because Lennon, the main songwriter, actually hated the song and barely spoke of it, except to say he disliked it. Well, John, I love it. I think you guys created a masterpiece. (If you want some laughs, listen to the Beatles Anthology 2 version, which sounds like a Byrds song, and features old pals John and Paul cracking up so bad they can’t even sing!)

This album would already be my favorite if it ended right there, but five great songs remain! And since we’ve already heard a Paul love ballad, how about we hear a Paul break-up ballad.

It’s a sad song[ref]I’ve had friends listen to it on repeat after bad breakups.[/ref] about a relationship that’s ended, and it includes what is probably the best use of a French Horn in all of rock. Also of note is McCartney’s bass, which enters after two verses, at about 0:24. It’s lovely, ranging very low (I wonder if it was tuned low?) and includes slides and staccato, really showcasing his all-around ability on the instrument. Only he and Ringo appear on the piece, apart from Alan Civil, the horn player. The entire song is Classic Paul.

So, Revolver must fall off at some point, right? Well, certainly not now, not when we’re about to pay a visit to “Doctor Robert”!

Doctor Robert is clearly an over-prescriber, but that’s precisely why John is singing his praises. He sings the song with a bit of a lag[ref]This sound is apparently achieved by Automatic Double Tracking, technology developed at Abbey Road Studios specifically for Beatles records.[/ref], but a different energy forms when Paul joins in verse two (0:30). And the harmonies in the “he’s a man you must believe” chorus (0:49) are outstanding! There’s a subtle dueling guitar sound to George and John’s riffing and rhythm throughout the song. I particularly love George’s guitar at about 0:56, heading into the “well, well, well” bridge, a bridge with wonderful three-part vocals. George’s guitar is great, as is his maraca playing! I couldn’t mention “Doctor Robert” without also mentioning Dr. Dave, as this song is a favorite to play in our band, JB & the So-Called Cells. It was in learning to play and sing harmony[ref]If you ever want to learn the harmony parts to Beatles songs, check out this Italian guy on YouTube![/ref] on this song that I first noticed the times (1:39 & 2:04) when John and Paul sing “Doc Robert!”

George Harrison was known as “the quiet Beatle,” and compared to the always-on Paul, the sarcastic John, and the quippy Ringo, he could seem shy and retiring. That persona (which from all accounts is not true) is captured int the fantastic ode to lovable-losers, “I Want to Tell You.”

Look, I’m just saying, not necessarily from personal experience, that if you were a young college-age guy with not-great self-esteem and terminal timidness around women you found attractive, then this song may have connected with you. The song’s great from the beginning, featuring a fade-in and rolling guitar riff, combined with Ringo’s authoritative snare drum. John and Paul’s backing vocals, as usual, are spot on, as is Paul’s bass. George’s voice is affecting, as he draws out the “Tee-ee-lll you …” And the dissonant piano in the second half of the verses is perfect. And how about that fill Ringo plays at 1:11! At the end (2:18), the boys sing a “melisma,” a word I just learned two minutes ago.

I hate to keep typing it, but it just seems like this record can’t get any better, any more diverse, and then an R&B number appears! Paul’s “Got to Get You Into My Life,” which, oddly enough for a song recorded in 1966, was the last U.S. top ten song the band recorded together, hitting #7 in 1976[ref]”Free as a Bird” hit the top 10 in 1995, but that was a Lennon original to which Paul, George and Ringo added instrumentation and arrangement.[/ref].

I’d never say a cover version is **better** than a Beatle original … but Earth, Wind & Fire doing “Got to Get You Into My Life” is pretty darn good…

The first note I wrote about this song is “Ringo’s hi-hat!” I love that sound against the cool horn fanfare. This is a fun song, and Paul’s bass is terrific. It sounds like a magical, love-at-first sight number, but Paul has actually said the lyrics are an ode to pot! (Oh well – it can mean what you want it to mean!) There’s not much guitar, until George enters at 1:49 with typical George-genius! Paul sings the heck out of the song, really using his best shout-y voice, especially on that outro! By the way, I don’t love a lot of covers of Beatles’ songs, but Earth, Wind and Fire’s version of this song is pretty great (it has more guitar than the original!) and hit #9 in 1978 (and #1 on the Billboard’s Soul Chart).

Okay, okay, for a final song on Revolver, what could The Beatles do to possibly cap off all of that? If you were a music fan in ’66 and just heard all those songs, what would you expect to close the record? Could you even fathom something like “Tomorrow Never Knows”?

Ringo’s snare and tom pattern drives the song forward continuously, as does Paul’s monotone bass. Those seagull sounds are actually a tape loop of Paul laughing, distorted for the record. In fact, there are tape loops all over this song, providing an otherworldly sound that John was looking for. The lyrics are all about meditation and psychedelic drugs and way too much for me to go into here, but the title is never mentioned in the song[ref]It’s apparently a phrase Ringo used, like “a hard day’s night.”[/ref]. It’s a simple song, structurally, but so much occurs – the violin-like tapes at 0:40, the truck horn at 0:50, the squiggly solo at 0:59, George’s backwards solo at 1:09 … I mean, I can’t keep up. It’s a sonic treat, and shows the band was – (is?) – just light-years ahead of the curve. This song had to be the final song on the album – there’s nothing else they could have done!

I’ve heard people say that this is the last song The Beatles should’ve released, that Revolver was the apex and should’ve ended it all. Many critics and music fans have called it the best album of all time[ref]Okay, sometimes they say “best Beatles’ album,” but come on – the best album by the best band means best ever, right?![/ref]. (Or thereabouts.) I agree that the band never was better, but I sure don’t think that the remaining albums – Sgt. Pepper’s, White Album, Abbey Road, Let It Be – were extraneous! And aside from all the music I loved on them, it gave them more time to perfect their album covers!

Keep watching this space – I’ll be doing some more music writing soon! Just because The Beatles records are complete doesn’t mean I don’t have more to say!

TRACK LISTING:
“Taxman”
“Eleanor Rigby”
“I’m Only Sleeping”
“Love You To”
“Here, There and Everywhere”
“Yellow Submarine”
“She Said, She Said”
“Good Day Sunshine”
“And Your Bird Can Sing”
“For No One”
“Doctor Robert”
“I Want to Tell You”
“Got to Get You Into My Life”
“Tomorrow Never Knows”

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Tagged 1966, Album Covers, Beatles, Best Album Ever, George Harrison, George Martin, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Revolver, Ringo Starr

2nd Favorite Beatles Album: Abbey Road

Posted on July 4, 2020 | 10 comments

Abbey Road
1969, Apple Records. Producer: George Martin.
Purchased Cassette, 1986.

IN A NUTSHELL: Abbey Road fully encapsulates everything that is wonderful about The Beatles. It also recapitulates their entire career, from doo-wop (“Oh! Darling”) to psychedelia (“I Want You,” “Sun King”) to singer/songwriter balladry (“Here Comes the Sun”). As if to lay to rest any doubts about their talents, the album is chock full of amazing songwriting (from all four members!), incredible vocal harmonies, and even some knockout solos from the boys. It’s the most-perfect final album of any band ever.

NOTE: The setup – below the line ↓ – might be the best part … Or skip right to the album discussion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Star Wars[ref]At that time it was not yet known as Star Wars: A New Hope. Well, I’m sure some nerd knew that, but most people didn’t.[/ref] opened in American theaters in May 1977, a week before my tenth birthday, making me a prime member of the film’s target audience. The film had spaceships, lasers, robots, bigfoots, a swashbuckling cowboy and a princess (with no kissing!), plus a teen-ager who learns to fight with a lightsaber. It came at a time when I was young enough that I still played with GI Joes. All those Star Wars action figures were aimed directly at me, and my dad’s wallet.

But my family were targets the marketers could rarely hit. We weren’t destitute by any means, but we were definitely lower-middle class, a family of five living on a machinist’s hourly wages. We were fed and clothed, and had a few “nice things,” like bikes and church outfits and a handheld calculator that cost more than all three bikes together, and that was hidden in my mom’s desk, requiring special permission for my sisters and I to access it. But non-necessary expenditures were rare, and anything that could be found as a “hand-me-down” was. Those GI Joes that I still played with had come from my older cousins.

Also, my parents weren’t movie-people. It cost money to go see a movie. Additionally, they required leaving the house, and possible mingling with people, an experience my dad, in particular, found difficult. My parents never went out on “dates.” They were content to watch movies on TV with annoying commercial interruptions, years after they’d been released in the theaters. Throughout the 70s I only recall them going to three movies in the theater: The Sting, Mel Brooks’ Silent Movie, and one other.

My sisters and I periodically went to a kids movie – Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory[ref]At which I cried and cried, especially when Augustus Gloop got sucked up the chocolate pipe.[/ref], Bambi, Snowball Express, – and once or twice we went as a family to the Drive-In theater. But as a whole, my family were not movie-goers. I’d never cared about that fact until I returned to school in the late summer of ’77.

That’s when Star Wars fever was boiling over.

Everyone in my fifth grade class had seen the film, and I mean everyone. John H. claimed to have seen it 30 times, probably an exaggeration, given his well-known penchant for stretching the truth, and, frankly, his family’s well-known limited financial means. However, he could, indeed, draw an astoundingly accurate version of R2-D2 in chalk on the blackboard. And this being decades before the internet, and years before DVDs and even household VHS machines, he’d had to have gone to the theater more than once to draw such a great picture.

I figured there was no way I’d get to see Star Wars until it appeared on TV. I even discussed with my buddy, Bruce F., my only ‘wealthy’ friend with HBO, whether I could come watch it at his house, without commercials, when it finally ran. I thought it was hopeless to ask my parents to take me to an actual movie theater to see it, but I decided to give it a shot.

My dad told me he’d take me[ref]Looking back, and knowing my dad, I’d say that in addition to wanting to make me happy, he probably heard about the movie from “the guys at the shop,” and was interested in it himself.[/ref]. We went to see it one evening at a theater in downtown Lebanon, PA, and it was amazing. I will never forget the first time I saw Star Wars because 1) it meant so much that my near-hermit, movie-indifferent dad took me; and 2) it was such a cool movie!

I’ve thought a lot about it, and there’s only one other work that I so clearly recall experiencing for the first time, and that’s The Beatles’ Abbey Road. And I didn’t even have all the family baggage surrounding that experience!

It was a summer evening in 1986, and I stopped to shoot hoops in an elementary school playground with a guy named Jeff. He had a boombox in his nearby car and was blasting the tape. Some of the songs I knew, some of them I didn’t, but one trip through the entire album while we played HORSE and one-on-one, and it immediately became my favorite record. The sounds, the melodies, the guitar, the feeling, the ending … it made an impression. Of all the records I love, I can’t recall my first listen as clearly or as deeply as I recall that first Abbey Road.

Abbey Road turned out to be the final album the band ever recorded. After the studio experimentation of Sgt. Pepper’s, the fraught individuality of “The White Album,” the band’s indifference to Yellow Submarine, and the awkward discomfort of filming the recording of Let it Be, (which was recorded earlier, but released after Abbey Road), it was to be a return to the camaraderie, synergy and musical focus that marked their earlier albums. Named for the recording studio in which they worked[ref]The studio website has a 24-hour webcam of the famous album cover crosswalk, so you can see folks posing all day long![/ref], The Beatles’ Abbey Road is as good a final album as any band has ever recorded.

And John Lennon’s “Come Together” is as good an album opener as has ever been recorded.

The bass, the drums the whispered “Shoot me,” with the “me” obscured by echoing handclaps … it’s among the most identifiable 4 seconds in rock music history. The nonsense lyrics are fun to sing, and it’s actually John singing his own harmonies during the verses. The bass line throughout is one of the coolest ever. At 2:31 Paul plays a little curlicue at the end of a line, and you can hear a little bit of studio shouting, if you listen closely. Lennon plays the Billy Preston-like electric piano, and Harrison adds a terrific lead guitar. And the entire time Ringo proves he’s one of the most creative drummers in rock. At 3:13, a lengthy runout begins, and if you listen closely in the left side, you’ll hear Lennon’s great rhythm guitar. It’s a song that’s been played a million times that I never get tired of hearing.

“Come Together” is an obvious group effort, and teamwork is a feeling that permeates Abbey Road. Even on Harrison’s masterpiece “Something,” a certain Beatle-ness is evident that was missing on “The White Album.”

As with “Come Together,” the bass and drums are once again perfect and indelible. Paul’s widely ranging bass and Ringo’s slow tom rolls are perfection, and check out what Ringo does in the bridge (~1:14 on). Harrison’s guitar is also amazing, and his sound and slide work throughout, (on the solo, at 1:43, in particular) became a sort of template (perhaps unfortunately) for 70s lite-rock. As love songs go, the lyrics of “Something”, coupled with George’s voice, are among the best. And let’s not forget the wonderful harmonies throughout!

The collaboration among the band is even clear on songs on which part of the band is absent – for example “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer,” which John considered “Granny music,” and so didn’t play along[ref]And to be fair, he was recuperating from a bad car accident.[/ref].

It is a silly song, with goofy lyrics about a serial killer, but I do like the tuba-ish bass, which is played by Harrison. And it’s got that wonderful guitar throughout the choruses, pure Harrison in sound and style.

Of course, even while the boys sound like they’re playing nice together, there were still some hurt Beatle feelings. For example, John really thought Paul should’ve asked him to sing “Oh! Darling.”

But maybe those hurt feelings are why he played such amazing guitar on the song! It’s Lennon alone playing all those attacking slides in the verses and arpeggiated chords in the choruses. And it was revealed last year that Harrison actually played bass on the song! Just as Paul easily copped the “Harrison sound” in past guitar solos in, for example, “Taxman” and “Ticket to Ride,” Harrison plays a wonderfully McCartney-esque bass line throughout, changing things up every time through. (I particularly love the syncopated ascending run he throws in, about 2:28.) Paul sings the hell out of this doo-wop tune about a gal who left him, and the subtle backing vocals are perfect. Lennon finishes off the song with great harmonics.

With Harrison doing so much on the album – bass, songwriting, guitar – I find him to be the unsung hero of Abbey Road. He even helped Ringo write his second Beatles songwriting credit, “Octopus’s Garden.”

And of course, he played that super lead guitar! Lennon actually plays all the nice fingerpicking rhythm guitar. The bass is A+, of course, and I really love all the backing vocals, particularly during the great guitar solo (1:38), when they sound as though they’re under water! It’s a perfect Ringo song, his voice is great, and though the song is often criticized as just a glorified kids’ song, Harrison actually found the lyrics to be quite spiritual.

Perhaps they are. And maybe there’s something spiritual, in a mantra-way, in the minimalist lyrics of Lennon’s “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)[ref]By my count, the song just barely beats out Nirvana’s “School” for hardest rock song with fewest lyrics, at 12 words for John and 14 for Kurt.[/ref].”

Much like the way I used to dislike “Within You Without You,” on Sgt . Pepper’s, but found myself growing to love it, this song is now officially one of my favorite Beatles’ songs. There’s so much happening, from an almost jazzy beginning through a slow-building musical fire that’s repeatedly tamped down, to a droning, repetitive, wild outro, it’s a song that simply requires repeated listens. “Fifth Beatle” Billy Preston plays a terrific Hammond organ, and I noted so many times in this song where I went back and re-listened (Paul’s bass, 1:00; Preston, 2:00; harmonies, 2:05; Guitar solo with organ, 2:26; drums everywhere; Guitar 3:37, 4:05, 4:14, 4:19; studio shouting at 4:33) that, really, it would be ridiculous to list them all. Okay, so I just did, but basically I think you should go listen to this song a bunch of times in a row, on headphones. You’ll be happy you did. Listen for the extra hi-hat at 7:16, after which there are two more times through the pattern before the song abruptly cuts out.

More evidence of Harrison’s status as Album Hero on Abbey Road comes in the next song, one of the band’s most popular ever, “Here Comes the Sun.”

First off, that’s a cool video produced for the song last year. From the first notes of Harrison’s acoustic guitar, this song is perfection. Once again, McCartney’s rolling bass provides a great countermelody, and the backing instruments – a whooshing Moog synthesizer, a harmonium, electric guitar – give the song an uplifting sound. The lyrics celebrate, well, being alive, when it gets down right to it. The backing harmonies (by George and Paul – John doesn’t appear at all on the track) are brilliant. Ringo’s drumming is pretty straightforward, even through the 3/4 “it’s all right” sections. Then, from 1:30 to 2:12, during the “sun, sun, sun, here it comes” section,” he goes nuts with some of the coolest tom fills ever. It’s a tremendous song – upbeat, positive, fun to sing along to, interesting musically … I love it.

The rest of the album is unique and wonderful, and – for some people – almost as frustrating as “The White Album.” That album left some folks wondering “what if they’d truly collaborated and then pared the record down to the strongest 15 songs?” The second half of Abbey Road is made up of a medley of songs, and leaves some folks wondering “what if they’d completed all those snippets?” As for me – it’s interesting to think about, but I’m happy with the record as it is. The record builds, and packs an emotional wallop that may not have occurred with 9 more complete songs.

The beautiful “Because” is probably not part of the medley, but it melds so seamlessly with the rest of the songs, I usually think of it as the first bit.

Musicologist Walter Everett, in comparing the song to Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata,” notes that both songs “arpeggiate triads and seventh chords in C♯minor in the baritone range of a keyboard instrument at a slow tempo, move through the submediant to ♭II and approach vii dim⁷/IV via a common tone[ref]Walter Everett. The Beatles as Musicians: Revolver Through the Anthology Oxford University Press, Oxford 1999. pp. 259–260.[/ref].” I think you should just listen to the beauty of the song, the voices, the sparse, hippy-ish lyrics, and not worry about all that. Then listen to this mix of vocals-only from the song, George, John and Paul (low register to high), each recorded three times to create 9 voices. Amazing.

Then comes the medley. NOTE: The Beatles(R) are very diligent in removing unofficial content from YouTube, etc. They only allow what they want floating around out there, which means … the version of The Medley that was on the original album, and the 2009 remix, is no longer available[ref]Someone might post it, but if they do it will be taken down quickly, for sure.[/ref] on YouTube as a single piece. The only full medley available is the version below, from 2019, when the band (i.e. McCartney) reshuffled things and put “Her Majesty” in between “Mean Mr. Mustard” and “Polythene Pam,” where it had (apparently) originally been before a last-second change (made by McCartney!) before the album release. Also, the arrangements are different, with different vocal tracks, missing orchestral tracks, fewer guitar solos … SO – I’ll have a link to each song, below, but I like to hear the medley as a medley, so I’ll leave this here, too, even though it’s not the way I’ve always heard it. Ugh. Artists. Such prima donnas. (Love you, Paul!!)

Famous for being one of the first rock songs about being screwed by the music industry, “You Never Give Me Your Money” introduces a melody on piano that will return throughout the medley. The song’s various sections are held together by the genius of Ringo. The chiming guitars (1:34) in the “magic feeling” section give me chills every time. I think it’s might be Harrison playing it, and the chiming continues (1:50) when a great guitar solo enters, maybe played by John? Either way, the dueling guitar work is stellar, and when the pair doubles on the solo (along with Paul on bass near the end of the solo, 2:12 – 2:32), with Ringo’s fills, it’s some of the best Beatles stuff on record. Every time I listen, I hear something new. It’s actually a rather sad song, particularly for a Beatles fan, and considering it’s the last album. “Step on the gas and wipe that tear away …”

Next comes “Sun King,” a kind of repeat of “Because,” vocal-wise, with awesome harmonies, this time on nonsense, faux Spanish lyrics. The guitar work of Harrison and Lennon is, once again, really sweet. And Paul plays a slightly distorted bass that sounds cool. And check out Ringo’s bongos! The song transitions quite suddenly with a nice Ringo fill into …

“Mean Mr. Mustard.” For all of Lennon’s complaints about Paul’s “granny music,” this composition of his is not too far from that description! Paul plays a fuzz bass[ref]More on that in album #1, Revolver.[/ref] and sings harmonies. This song, though short and somewhat insignificant (anyway, it’s my least-favorite part of the medley), really showcases how the voices of John and Paul blend together. It’s about a miser, with a sister named Pam, who turns out to be …

“Polythene Pam.” Those three acoustic chords that open the song are so simple and so grand next to McCartney’s swooping bass. Great harmony vocals, as usual, on a song about a particular woman (who seems much different than her brother). It’s one of Ringo’s most creative, terrific drum tracks, and George’s solo (0:49) adds so much, leading to (“Oh, Look out!) …

“She Came In Through the Bathroom Window.” Actually, George’s guitar seems to continue right through into this song, with the same tone. He’s hero-George again, and his guitar work is my favorite part of this song. His guitar sound, coupled with the vocals is another place on the album where I always get chills. This is another awesome Ringo performance, too, with classic swingin’ Ringo hi-hat and Ringo-y fills, like 1:20 and 1:26. And don’t sleep on John’s 12-string acoustic, in the left channel! The song was written by Paul after an actual Beatle fan actually climbed into his house through his bathroom window.

The medley has about a 2 second break here, as the powerful “Golden Slumbers” is cued up. It’s one of Paul’s best vocal performances, fluctuating between sweet and powerful with ease on lyrics partially adapted from an old poem[ref]The poem is “Cradle Song,” by Thomas Dekker.[/ref]. It also has some fine orchestral work (WHICH IS REMOVED FROM THE MEDLEY VERSION, ABOVE!!), arranged by George Martin. His strings never seem overdone, like the ones Phil Spector added to Let It Be, and it’s nice to hear him go out with a bang on Abbey Road, as well.

“Carry That Weight” is kind of the second half of “Golden Slumbers.” John was recuperating from a car crash, and doesn’t appear on either song (except vocals in the chorus), but hero George plays 6-string bass on both. It has a nice reprise of “You Never Give Me Your Money,” and some nice electric guitar from George. It transitions quite suddenly into …

“The End,” is truly a bittersweet song – the final time the band played together, on the final song of the final album, and titled “The End.” And it really delivers a thrilling demonstration of the 4 lads’ musical abilities. It features (0:20) Ringo’s only recorded drum solo (unless you count those 8 bars in “Birthday,” which nobody does) and dueling guitar solos from the other three. The solos start about 0:54, and rotate, 2 bars each, in order – McCartney, Harrison and Lennon. They sound like they’re having so much fun!! I love listening to the distinctive styles of each, with Paul flashily ranging up and down the neck, George playing tricky bends and rockabilly-ish riffs, and Lennon mostly playing simple licks and dirty chords. When the solos end, about 1:30, and Paul’s piano remains, I once again feel the frisson, leading into the famous couplet from Paul: “And in the end the love you take/ Is equal to the love you make.” (I get a little misty typing it.) Somewhat lost in there is the fact that Harrison and Lennon play cool riffs behind the lyrics, and Ringo’s drums are orchestral and brilliant to close things out.

Perfection. And it wouldn’t be perfection without a little mistake: “Her Majesty.” As discussed above, this song was originally excised from the medley, then was mistakenly added to the end of the master tape, so it made it onto the record. It’s Paul on an acoustic, singing to the queen. And it’s really a song for our time, 2020: at 23 seconds long, it’s the perfect song to sing so I’m sure I wash my hands a sufficient length of time!

This was a long post – if you made it to the end, bless you. Leave a comment so I can thank you directly. But I love Abbey Road so much, I could have typed three times as many words. Long, long ago, on a playground far, far away, I had no idea it would still resonate with me as a 53 year old.

TRACK LISTING:
“Come Together”
“Something”
“Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”
“Oh! Darling”
“Octopus’s Garden”
“I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”
“Here Comes the Sun”
“Because”
“You Never Give Me Your Money”
“Sun King”
“Mean Mr. Mustard”
“Polythene Pam”
“She Came In Through the Bathroom Window”
“Golden Slumbers”
“Carry That Weight”
“The End”
“Her Majesty”

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Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged 1969, Abbey Road, Beatle Medley, Beatles, Final Album, George Harrison, George Martin, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr

5th Favorite Beatles Album: Help!

Posted on April 21, 2020 | Comments Off

Help!
1965, Parlophone. Producer: George Martin.
Purchased CD, Approx. 1994.

IN A NUTSHELL: Help! is the album where The Beatles started to regularly go beyond the expectations for a pop band. Acoustic numbers, folk-rock, country … all shared space with the usual lovable pop gems. Also, lyrical content matured and introspective themes appeared. The band could’ve just knocked off a few watered-down retreads for this second soundtrack in a row – it certainly would have sold. But the band took the opportunity to elevate their art and make (another) masterpiece.

NOTE: The setup – below the line ↓ – might be the best part … Or skip right to the album discussion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

1 Over the years I’ve really surprised myself with the things that I don’t know. I’m not talking about shit like how bosons and fermions behave, or the evolutionary pathway of Ornithorhynchus anatinus, or imperialism and nationalism in early modernity: the cosmopolitan and the provincial in Shakespeare’s Cymbeline, for example. I’m talking about, like, what baked ziti is, which is something I didn’t know until well into college.

This image of a TV pathologist indicates I still may not know what chemistry is.

I’d earned a living as an analytical chemist in pharmaceutical laboratories for more than ten years when a potential employer for a job as a chemist called me for an initial discussion. As part of his screening process, he asked me to describe the difference between an acid and a base. (For you Non-Science-Types, this is about as elementary as one can get in chemistry.) All I could think to say was, “well, I know it has to do with how salts are formed.” (Again for NST’s – this is a ridiculous response.) The guy was stunned. I didn’t get the job. I didn’t even get an interview[ref]I’m just happy the guy didn’t call my then-current employer![/ref]. The point is that even topics that I supposedly know a lot about can sometimes leave me in the dark[ref]Acids are proton donors. Bases are proton acceptors. (I did just look that up to be certain.)[/ref].

2 When I was little – six and younger – I really enjoyed the TV show The Monkees. As you’re probably aware, the show featured a band, The Monkees, which was assembled by TV producers[ref]I can hear a TV exec now: “See – Beatle, with an ‘e-a.’ And Monkee, with an ‘e-e.’ The kids love this stuff!”[/ref] to capitalize on American Beatle-mania[ref]Other Beatle-inspired TV creations include The Mosquitos, a band that somehow visited Gilligan’s Island, and The Banana Splits, a group of animals that somehow learned to play instruments. And talk and sing.[/ref]. Actor/musicians Mike Nesmith, Mickey Dolenz, Davy Jones and Peter Tork auditioned for roles on the show and were assigned guitar, drums, cuteness and bass, respectively. (Only Mike and Pete really knew how to play their instruments at first. Davy and Mickey would quickly learn.)

I watched reruns, in the early evenings, with my older sisters. It felt like a “big kid” show. It was about a hip, young band, living together in a crazy house in a neighborhood with other bands, acting zany, charming the ladies, driving a cool Monkee-mobile[ref]I think more bands should have band-mobiles.[/ref] … It was everything a five-year-old in 1972 thought was cool about musicians. And that’s the thing – I liked it for the musicians, not the music. The show had catchy songs, but for years I never really thought of The Monkees as a band with songs. I thought of The Monkees as a TV show with songs.

Sometime around 1986 MTV[ref]Which I loved, although by ’86 it had already jumped the shark.[/ref] brought back reruns of The Monkees, and even got the band a new hit song (albeit with only half of the original band participating). This era also coincided with my nascent, deep, deep love for The Beatles. This is when I started to realize that The Monkees, the band, not the TV show, really had some amazing songs! The producers had hired professional songwriters – including Neil Diamond, Carol King, and Tommy Boyce & Bobby Hart – to craft Beatlesque songs (I love Beatlesque songs) for Davy Jones and Mickey Dolenz to sing. And Mike Nesmith wrote some pre-Byrds countrified rock songs to go alongside them. (By the way – the band was friendly with The Beatles, and they even used an obscure Beatle song 12 seconds into one of their shows.)

The Monkees didn’t just have hit songs, they had great hit songs. “I’m a Believer” is fun-pop perfection. “Last Train to Clarksville” is hip, and was one of the first songs to (indirectly) address The Viet Nam War. “Pleasant Valley Sunday” has a cool guitar, and speaks to the soulless boredom of suburban life. (I have no idea why Mickey’s hi-hat is where it is in that video.) “Steppin’ Stone” has a raw, garage-rock, Nuggets-y feel[ref]R.E.M. covered this song when they were a new band. I’ve read that The Monkees were Peter Buck’s favorite band.[/ref]. “Valleri” has a cool touch of psychedelia. “Daydream Believer” and “A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You” are bubblegum pop treats.

And their homage to the Fab Four (Mickey Dolenz called them “the four Kings of EMI” in a song) wasn’t lost on me. As with Ringo, The Monkees let vocally-challenged Peter sing a song sometimes. They featured really cool guitar parts on some of their album cuts, just like The Beatles did. And like their role-models, they delved into mind-expanding songs and more avant-garde stuff. So, call it an homage, call it a rip-off. Whatever you call it, The Monkees are a great, cool band.

3 I bought Help! sometime around the time I bought A Hard Day’s Night. Help! is another soundtrack to another Beatles film I only saw once. Just as I never considered The Monkees a band, I never considered The Beatles actors. I watched the films once just to see them, but never felt compelled to do so again. So I purchased Help! solely to dive into the songs, and as I made my way through the songs I was stunned to learn this fact: “I’ve Just Seen a Face” is a Beatles song, NOT a Monkees song!

I was amazed to learn this fact – especially as it came a good decade into my Beatle super-fandom. I was sure I remembered The Monkees cavorting around on the TV screen, with wacky jump-cuts of the band in kooky outfits, or goofing off on the beach, interspersed with exciting footage of Mike playing countrified guitar while Mickey drums and sings, Davy shakes maracas and harmonizes and Peter plucks the bass. I knew I’d heard a DJ intone, “That’s The Monkees, with ‘I’ve Just Seen a Face.'” I went to a record store and looked up Monkees albums to track down their version. (This was in the early internet era.) I asked all my friends. Finally, it hit me: “I’ve Just Seen a Face” was always a Beatles song, only a Beatles song, never a Monkees song. Maybe I’d been thinking of “Papa Gene’s Blues,” which is a Mike Nesmith-penned, country-ish song with quickly-sung lyrics?

I guess my long-held misapprehension could be viewed as either a testament to The Monkees or an insult to The Beatles. But my well-documented confusion is not the point here. The point is that Help! is one more incredible record by an incredible band.

“I’ve Just Seen a Face” is a good place to start when discussing the album Help! It’s a great example of just how different this record sounds from all of the band’s previous output.

It’s a finger-picking, country-tinged shuffle that would have sounded out of place on any of the earlier records. But on Help!, it fits just fine. There are no electric guitars on it, no bass guitar, and Ringo plays brushes and maracas. There is a harmony vocal – but it’s Paul singing harmony with himself. Paul’s love-at-first-sight lyrics include cascading, internal rhymes that are cleverly constructed. (“I have never known the like of this/ I’ve been alone/ And I have missed/ things and kept out of sight/ But other girls were never quite/ like this…”) I probably should’ve known all along this wasn’t The Monkees.

I don’t know if it helps my credibility to say that I’ve always known “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away,” another song that sounded nothing like previous Beatles’ efforts, was by the band!

This time it’s John who’s practically solo, playing a 12-string and singing a Bob Dylan-inspired song about the perils of love. It’s a lovely singalong song[ref]I have fond memories of Dr. Dave strumming and singing this song at a party, and dozens of folks singing along![/ref], with Ringo adding tambourine and maracas. Flutes show up, as well, some of the first non-rock instrumentation featured on a Beatles record. This is probably as good a time as any to mention the McCartney solo song “Yesterday,” which also features non-rock instruments. It’s hard to really say much about this song. It’s incredible, it’s everywhere, its simple lyrics are universally felt … it may be the most popular song ever written.

The Beatles were really stretching out for this record, a fact that makes a strong statement about the band. After the mega-success of the film and album A Hard Day’s Night, they could have easily just coasted and hacked up a few more sound-clone ditties. Instead, right off the top, they open with a pop song unlike any that had been heard before: “Help!”

For one thing, the lyrics are very raw and honest, even though most pop fans probably didn’t think much about their meaning. But most of all, the contrapuntal melody sung by Paul was a technique unheard of in a 3-minute teeny-bopper record. George plays a cool descending riff (first heard at 0:09). John’s acoustic strumming on the song is really great, and Ringo’s drumming drives it all. I love his use of toms, not to mention his tambourine in the chorus. The vocal harmonies are awesome, including the finale “ooo.”

Ringo’s drumming is great throughout, but let’s not forget his vocals! He gets a lead vocal on the Buck Owens classic “Act Naturally.” He does a great job on humorous lyrics about being a loser in love, and Paul’s harmonies enhance it all. George also gets a couple tracks of his own this time around, including the standout “I Need You.”

The best parts of this song are Paul’s bass and George’s electric guitar, its sound augmented by a volume pedal. Ringo breaks out his cowbell, and actually played acoustic guitar on the track – that is he played percussion on the back of an acoustic while John played a snare drum! Paul’s harmonies are terrific, and George nails his love song lyrics. It’s one of my favorite George songs. One of my least favorite is his other offering on Help!, “You Like Me Too Much,” a song about being a jerk. I think if it had appeared on Please Please Me or Beatles For Sale I may have more tolerance for it. But it’s rather simple, and the “I really do!” in the bridge is almost amateurish. But the chord changes are nice, and George is great, so I won’t say anything more.

Besides “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” and the title track, Lennon also gets introspective on the love song “It’s Only Love.”

Harrison plays a cool electric guitar part throughout – both rhythm and subtle leads – and the acoustic strumming (both George and John are credited on acoustic) is fantastic. Ringo breaks out his trusty tambourine again. Lennon is in fine voice (he even rolls an “r” in the word “bright” for some Lennon-y reason) and it’s a truly lovely song. I also like his “You’re Going to Lose That Girl,” a warning to a friend that turns into a warning about himself! Excellent three-part harmony here, with George and Paul tearing it up, particularly in the bridge! Ringo breaks out bongoes, and I’m starting to realize that this entire album could be capably reproduced by a few folks around a fire with acoustic guitars and bongoes and tambourine. I’m sure it’s been done.

Although, it might be difficult to reproduce my favorite track on Help!, the riff-based classic “Ticket to Ride.”

I love Ringo’s drums throughout this song – the toms, the syncopation. I also really love the droning, buzzing guitar heard throughout[ref]The guy I worked with who saw The Beatles live (twice) said the first time his mom heard “I Feel Fine,” a Beatles single that opens with feedback very similar in sound to this buzz, she pulled off the highway in traffic because she thought her car was breaking![/ref]. And Paul’s high harmonies throughout are brilliant, as he helps John on lyrics about a girl that’s going away. The guitar solo, and lead fills, are also played by Paul. It’s a great, electric song.

Another song that wouldn’t be terribly suited to acoustic strumming is the cover “Dizzy Miss Lizzy.” It’s a fine song, I guess, but by Help! I’m rather over hearing John sing a cover song. I’d rather hear Lennon and McCartney team up, like on the lovely, mellow “Tell Me What You See.”

This may actually be my favorite song on the album. (It’s so hard to choose.) Their voices are so perfect together, Ringo’s on claves again, George strokes a guiro, and that electric piano break (1:04, 1:49, and at the very end) from Paul is awesome – as are Ringo’s drums coming out of it. Paul is trying to convince a girl that she should recognize he’s the one for her. Of course, another song on Help! points out that if she doesn’t, well, he has got “Another Girl.” McCartney plays the countrified lead electric guitar throughout, which is stellar! John sings a cool high harmony, and the three part harmony through the bridge is once again amazing.

Help! is really a new direction for The Beatles. But the didn’t totally abandon the driving, pop song gems that they originally rode to success. Check out “The Night Before.”

Ringo’s back on the full kit, slamming that ride cymbal, the vocal oohs and ahhs are primed to make the girls scream, and Paul begs them to treat him right, his memories of last night bringing tears to his eyes! George and Paul play an electric guitar duet, and it’s just like the good old days of 1963.

This album broke the mold for the band. But maybe it set the mold for the bands and artists in the rest of the 1960s. It showed the public that anything was possible in pop music. Why, even a bunch of actors thrown together for a silly TV show could create some amazing stuff; all they had to do was follow the originals. They might even end up fooling some people!

TRACK LISTING:
“Help!”
“The Night Before”
“You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away”
“I Need You”
“Another Girl”
“You’re Going to Lose That Girl”
“Ticket to Ride”
“Act Naturally”
“It’s Only Love”
“You Like Me Too Much”
“Tell Me What You See”
“I’ve Just Seen a Face”
“Yesterday”
“Dizzy Miss Lizzy”

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Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged 1965, George Harrison, George Martin, Help!, John Lennon, Movie Soundtrack, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, The Beatles, Ticket to Ride

6th Favorite Beatles Album: A Hard Day’s Night

Posted on March 28, 2020 | 1 comment

A Hard Day’s Night
1964, Parlophone. Producer: George Martin.
Purchased CD, Approx. 1994.

IN A NUTSHELL: A Hard Day’s Night demonstrates everything about The Beatles that made them so brilliant in their early recording years. Before they ever added orchestras, psychedelia, and odd instruments, they were cranking out gem after gem. Their voices, songwriting and musicianship were beyond what was expected, especially for a teeny-bopper movie! This album leans heavily on John Lennon’s talents, but each of the four shines throughout, and the songs are excellent even if you haven’t seen the film.

NOTE: The setup – below the line ↓ – might be the best part … Or skip right to the album discussion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Since well before actors’ voices were heard, movies have included music to enhance the action shown by the flickering lights on the big screen. Before sound was added to films, movies would often be shown with a full orchestra accompaniment. Other times, a single piano would play music. In small towns where nobody knew how to play the piano, often a single guitarist might play along. The point is, music can make a movie. That’s always been the case.

I’ve loved movies since I was a little kid in the early ’70s, when, due to some fluke of community planning, my rural Pennsylvania township had cable TV well before the rest of America did. This meant I got to watch movies on TV channels from Philadelphia, which was 100 miles (or 50 years) away from us. This is before pay-channels, like HBO, so the movies were interrupted by commercials and had all the bad words bleeped out. But they had music! And I loved watching movies and hearing songs in them.

Actually, my love of film music was first sparked by perhaps – no, not perhaps, it’s definitely true – by THE FINEST performer that has ever graced a movie or television screen: Bugs Bunny. Bugs could sing, everything from opera to folk, he could play banjo, guitar, harp, fiddle, piano, even conduct an orchestra. Though he wasn’t familiar with them at first, he eventually even mastered the bagpipes. Watching hours of Bugs each week primed my brain for a lifetime of enjoying music in movies.

My mom also helped develop my love by playing her Broadway show 8-tracks all the time. From listening to them I expected music to help tell a story. But even though I’m a fan of musicals, from Singin’ in the Rain to Grease to Purple Rain to LA LA Land, a movie doesn’t have to be a musical to have a great soundtrack.

Pulp Fiction has one of my favorite soundtracks ever, and I’m not alone. The record usually appears somewhere on all of the “Best Soundtracks” lists you see out there. There are songs from Kool and the Gang and The Statler Brothers and everyone in between. From the opening credits through all of the iconic scenes, and even in the background (which is where I discovered Maria McKee, and one of my favorite albums), this soundtrack has great, diverse songs that didn’t used to seem to fit together, but now sure will forever.

A lesser-known film from the 90s, yet equally terrific and also with a tremendous soundtrack, is the 1996 John Sayles film Lone Star. It’s set on the Texas/Mexico border, and the music sets the tone perfectly. From Texas blues to Tejano to sultry jazz, the songs always set the scene for the action. All of the songs were unfamiliar to me, yet I still left the theater wanting the soundtrack – an impressive feat for a film. In the early web days of the mid 90s, I learned the perils of online shopping due to this soundtrack. I tried to buy it online and instead ended up with some lame country band[ref]Hey, the band may be great but I really don’t like any country music unless it was made before about 1973.[/ref] also called “Lonestar.” If you ever get a chance, check out the movie and music sometime!

Sometimes movie music isn’t even about the entire soundtrack. Sometimes it’s just a terrific song behind a great scene, like John Candy doin’ the mess-around in Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Or the Caddyshack scenes in the pool, on the golf course, or inside the country club. There’s Paul Newman riding a bike in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. And Napoleon Dynamite dancing. Or Scarlett Johansson and Bill Murray doing karaoke in Lost in Translation. Music can make a scene unforgettable.

And then there are all the terrific movies about bands and musicians that have amazing music. For comedies there’s This is Spinal Tap. Fear of a Black Hat. And The Blues Brothers, although unlike the first two, the Blues Brothers band is a group of real musicians. (This is Spinal Tap is by far the funniest film of the three. Perhaps of all time.) And there are more band movies (real and fictional), like Yellow Submarine and Gimme Shelter and The Last Waltz and Human Highway and Rock ‘n Roll High School and Ladies and Gentlemen, The Fabulous Stains and Stop Making Sense and 1991: The Year Punk Broke and That Thing You Do! and School of Rock and 8 Mile and Shut Up and Play the Hits and Straight Outta Compton and on and on and on. I haven’t seen all of them, but I will.

One of my favorite soundtracks is from a movie that I’ve only seen once, years ago. People find it hard to believe, but I actually bought the soundtrack several years before I ever watched the movie because – to be honest – I’m more interested in the music than the film. This isn’t typically the case with movie soundtracks. But with a band like The Beatles, the typical is atypical. And with an album as great as A Hard Day’s Night, I sometimes forget it’s a soundtrack.

Early in my Beatles-loving career, in high school and college, I dismissed any Beatles songs before about Revolver, in 1966, as moldy oldies, bubble-gummy “yeah yeah yeah” pop that to my (immature) ears sounded about as interesting as the doo-wop songs Sha-Na-Na covered. In the early 90s, I carpooled to work with a woman named Ximena, who’s now one of my oldest friends. She was the one who told me I should listen to A Hard Day’s Night. (We may have played it during our commute, but usually we listened to 80s stuff.) I trusted her musical opinion, so went out and bought it, and I immediately realized these songs were neither moldy nor oldie-sounding. The songs sounded as fresh as any guitar music on the radio, and the album still sounds great today.

From the opening chord on the opening title track, perhaps the most-studied and most-discussed two seconds of music ever recorded, A Hard Day’s Night delivers great sounds and songs throughout.

What a showcase for the singing of Lennon and McCartney! Both voices are double-tracked, John on the verses (which is where the title is sung, which is odd), McCartney on the choruses (which are the same each time, but don’t include the title, which is odd), and they sound terrific! I love Paul’s cool little bass noodle thing he plays to accompany Ringo’s toms after each verse. It’s hard to hear unless you listen with headphones, but it’s great. George has a nice, fast, 12-string guitar solo that producer George Martin doubles on piano[ref]Martin couldn’t play it fast enough, so he actually played the piano half-speed, and in a lower register, then speeded up the tape so that it fit with the song! How cool is this band and its producer?[/ref]. And Ringo’s insistent cowbell through the chorus is the first of many percussion implements he’ll use throughout the album.

A Hard Day’s Night is really very much a Lennon album. He wrote most of the songs (of course, all are credited to Lennon/McCartney) and sings most, too. “I Should Have Known Better” is one of the last Beatle songs to feature John playing harmonica[ref]I believe “I’m a Loser” was the final one, but don’t quote me on that.[/ref], and also features a nifty chord change going into the chorus. (It’s another song that has the repeated title in the verse instead of the chorus.) George deftly changes chords and strumming patterns throughout the song. It’s not my favorite song, and neither is the Lennon/McCartney song that George gets to sing, “I’m Happy Just to Dance with You.” Although, Ringo is credited with playing an “African Drum[ref]I don’t know what that is, really. It’s a pretty broad category.[/ref],” whatever that may be, and it sounds really cool. George didn’t get any of his own songs on the record, but he sings this love song just fine.

While John’s often associated with the more rockin’ Lennon/McCartney pieces, he gets sentimental on the lovely “If I Fell.”

I’ve always loved this song about the desire for new love to last. John and Paul’s harmonies are perfect, although on the stereo version of the song, at the end of the second bridge, Paul’s voice cracks (1:45), a charming faux pas, in my opinion. George plays a simple solo, and Ringo does a great, subtle job holding it all down. Paul gets to show off his own love-songwriting chops on the ballad “And I Love Her.” Ringo picks up bongos and a pair of claves this time, and George adds a terrific classical guitar line throughout, and a nice solo.

After all that lovey-doviness, the boys need to pick things up, don’t you think? And they do it in fine fashion with a couple rockers. First comes the awesome three-part harmony of “Tell Me Why.” While John, Paul and George pull off those amazing vocals (about another girl who done John wrong), Ringo is playing cool fills and pushing the band toward the climactic falsetto of “is there anything I can do?” (1:32). Next the absolute classic “Can’t Buy Me Love” rocks even a little harder[ref]If you’re questioning whether it really rocks, check out this live clip from 1964.)[/ref]. Paul’s bass is bouncy, George plays one of his best early-Beatle guitar solos (at 1:18 you can hear a faint, second solo in the left speaker), and the lyrics are not about a prostitute.

For my money, A Hard Day’s Night really picks up on what used to be known as (in the days when records had two sides) “Side 2.”

Side 2 opens what a slam on Ringo’s snare drum, as “Any Time at All” begins, one of my favorite Beatle guitar songs. I love Harrison’s riffs throughout. And in addition to Ringo concluding each verse with a ‘thwack,’ he also breaks out his trusty cowbell once again. John sings lead again, but Paul adds the second, higher-pitched “Any Time at All.” It’s a fun song, and the next one, “I’ll Cry Instead,” is fun, too, despite its sad-sack lyrics. It’s one of those Country-Western style Beatle songs that Ringo usually sings. (Since Ringo didn’t get a song to sing on A Hard Day’s Night, I wonder why they didn’t give him this one?) George nails the rockabilly guitar, and Paul has a sort-of-not-really bass solo (1:05 & 1:35).

Next comes one of my all-time favorite songs, “Things We Said Today.”

I’ve written many times that lyrics are not usually what draws me to a song, but one of the reasons I love this one is the lyrics. The idea that what we’re saying today, especially as young lovers, will become tomorrow’s happy memories is such a sweet, romantic idea. Paul sings lead, and the harmonies George adds (i.e. “someday when I’m lonely”) are perfect. I really dig Lennon’s acoustic guitar strumming throughout, and how Ringo emphasizes things in the bridge (1:00). It’s a tremendous “Paul song,” one of my favorites.

But A Hard Day’s Night is really mostly John’s. “When I Get Home” is about a man waiting to get home to his girlfriend, and is the only song I know that uses all five syllables of the word “trivialities” in metered, rhyming verse. The intro is pure Ringo. It’s a decent song, but I’m a much bigger fan of John’s “You Can’t Do That.”

In the 90s, when I was carpooling with Ximena, who’d extolled the virtues of A Hard Day’s Night, we worked with an older guy named Paul who’d seen The Beatles live – TWICE! He saw them in San Francisco at The Cow Palace in 1965, and at their LAST CONCERT EVER[ref]Not counting the rooftop Let It Be performance.[/ref], at Candlestick Park. Of course I spent hours talking Beatles with him when I should have been running lab experiments, and he even showed me his Candlestick Park Beatles ticket stub. Anyway, he told me “You Can’t Do That” was always he and his friends’ favorite Beatles song – because of the super-cool guitar riff that Harrison and Lennon play. I love the riff, too. And listen to Paul’s awesome, twirling bass line! (The guitars and bass really come alive on headphones.) I also really dig Ringo’s drums – and his trusty cowbell. The harmonies are sweet (“gree-eeen”) on John’s tough-guy lyrics. But what I really love is the ending, as the band slows things down and then gently slides up to that final note. It’s subtle things like this that set The Beatles apart: a throwaway album track that was cut from the film, yet they can’t help but add some artistry to it.

The album closes with a promise from the band: “I’ll Be Back.”

The harmonies, on rather-stalkerish-but-of-the-era lyrics, are fabulous, Harrison’s acoustic guitar riff is lovely, the syncopated strumming behind the verses is cool, and it’s got a shifting time signature, throwing in a 2/4 measure after the “oh, oh”s (0:40). Then it has a really weird, rather sudden fade out. Not to get too interpretive, but considering the song’s title, it’s almost like they’re saying, “don’t worry, we’ll be back … we wouldn’t leave you hanging like that!”

And return they did, the following year, with another movie, and another soundtrack. There was nothing this band couldn’t do. I don’t know why I didn’t get into this album earlier, since it sort of harkens back to the TV days of my youth. A Hard Day’s Night shows The Beatles were almost as talented as Bugs Bunny! (Almost.)

TRACK LISTING:
“A Hard Day’s Night”
“I Should Have Known Better”
“If I Fell”
“I’m Happy Just to Dance with You”
“And I Love Her”
“Tell Me Why”
“Can’t Buy Me Love”
“Any Time at All”
“I’ll Cry Instead”
“Things We Said Today”
“When I Get Home”
“You Can’t Do That”
“I’ll Be Back”

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Tagged 1964, A Hard Day's Night, George Harrison, George Martin, John Lennon, Movie Soundtrack, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, The Beatles

7th Favorite Beatles Album: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

Posted on March 2, 2020 | 2 comments

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
1967, Apple Records. Producer: George Martin.
Purchased CD, Approx. 1992.

IN A NUTSHELL: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is an album that is inescapable in rock, a cultural touchstone truly unlike any other. Its importance as a work of art has probably overshadowed the actual songs on the record, which are diverse and strange and layered with studio effects and tricks. It can be hard to get past the sheer brilliance of the production, but if you can, I think you’ll find that the songs themselves are actually very good, too! Some call it the best ever – but for me it’s middle-of-the-pack Beatles.

NOTE: The setup – below the line ↓ – might be the best part … Or skip right to the album discussion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I will try to write this first section with a minimum of creepiness. I’m nearly 53 years old, so there’s a possibility this story sounds really gross. If it ends up sounding gross I’ll trash the whole thing. But assuming I can make it through, I want to immediately acknowledge three things I intend to discuss: 1) I was once a teenager attracted to teenaged girls; 2) my friends and I had ignorant, immature and inappropriate discussions about teenaged girls; and 3) I can recall both numbers 1 and 2.

But I intend to not be creepy. Let’s give it a try.

I entered high school in the fall of 1981, 14 years old and awkward and chubby and unsure of myself. Upon arrival, I was struck (as were my friends) by the fact that the senior girls around us were unlike any girls with whom we’d ever shared a school. I’m sure freshman girls noticed the same thing about the older boys. There were now students in our midst that looked more like attractive adults than any students we’d ever seen before.

As a younger student, I remember being enamored of some schoolmates. At Ebenezer Elementary School from kindergarten (Angie L.) through fifth grade (Juli Z.). At Cedar Crest Middle School from sixth through eighth grades (Jana C.). These crushes were very sweet, in retrospect, and never reciprocated. They were based mostly on the fact that these girls had cute faces and they laughed at my jokes. If there was any sort of physical attraction beyond a pretty face, I have no memory of it. Getting a laugh was the main thing.

However, at high school there were suddenly girls in the hallways walking to class who looked more like women – attractive women like I’d seen in movies or on TV – than girls. My friends and I had never been around so many people like this. Senior girls became a regular topic of conversation at my lunch table that freshman year. Sharon, Kathy, Pam, Lisa, Kelly … we discussed these popular seniors as if they were Hollywood celebrities. From our vantage as ninth grade nerds trying to get through the day unnoticed and unbeaten, they seemed just as remote.

My freshman year was also the first semester at school for a young, male art teacher. I don’t remember his name, but he had long (for a 1981 teacher) wavy hair and wore preppy clothes, like those woolen ties with a square bottom that I only saw on rich people and, once in a while, Detective Arthur Dietrich. It was also the only semester that art teacher was at the school, as a few months into the school year he was no longer employed there. Word soon got around the students that the reason he was gone was because he’d asked one of those popular senior girls, Kathy, out on a date. Even in 1981 this was frowned upon.

This situation, of course, was THE HOT TOPIC at our lunch table for several days, perhaps a week. We were all newly-arrived 14 year olds with varying levels of dating experience – ranging from “too scared to ever think of asking out a girl” to “have thought about it and rejected the idea as too scary,” plus one guy who claimed to have actually been intimate with several girls, but who everyone knew was a bullshitter. The question we aimed to resolve at these daily summits was this: “Was an opportunity to date Kathy worth giving up a job, and possibly a career, and perhaps even an arrest and criminal record?” In other words, did Mr. Wavy-hair Art Teacher make the right choice in asking Kathy on a date?

After considerable discussion, the consensus among the group of us five or six boys was this: he made the right choice. It was probably worth it.

Of course, now, as an adult with experience and an understanding of power dynamics and the patriarchal system that continues to cause inequities in our society, along with a clear understanding of professional boundaries and criminal law, I recognize that this was a ridiculous position for us to take. Still, in my memory (I’ve retold this story countless times), the Kathy character in this vignette is a goddess, an angel, a pure distillation of feminine beauty such that I, as a youth, believed men should risk everything just for an opportunity to share a slice of pizza with her at Special Pizza City.

My sister, Liz, was also a senior that year, and she was an average kid with lots of friends. She knew, and had classes with, the popular girls, Kathy and Sharon and Pam and all the others. But she and her friends were not part of that crowd. Recently I got to hang out with Liz, and talk turned, as it often does, to our high school years. We looked through her senior yearbook, and I recounted the above story. As we flipped through and looked at all the kids, I noticed something. Kathy didn’t really seem like the unbelievable beauty I’d always remembered. She was a cute kid, but there were lots of cute kids in the book.

Clearly my friends and I were swayed by the idea of Kathy as much as the actual appearance of Kathy. We’d been shaken by our entrance that fall into an arena unlike anything we’d ever experienced. We were overwhelmed by it, and it put us off balance. And all these names of senior girls became images in our heads that didn’t even have a basis in reality. Before I went back and looked at that yearbook, I couldn’t even conjure an image of any of them in my head. I knew that Sharon was tall and blonde and Kathy was shorter with brown hair. The others were only names. “Really?” I thought. “What was all the fuss about?”

I have similar feelings these days when I listen to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Since becoming a rock music fan – about six months before entering high school – I’ve heard Sgt. Pepper’s called the greatest album ever. It’s seemingly been on the top of every “Best Album” list. Story after story have been written and produced about its ground-breaking production, its cultural impact, its uniqueness and power and legacy. It is the most inescapable record in the history of rock.

And you know what?

It’s really good! There’s no denying that the songs are great. But the production – especially considering the technology available in 1967 – is truly astounding. The band’s instruments don’t take center stage (well, McCartney’s bass often does), but instead the recording studio does. That was a novel idea in 1967, and people were blown away by it. I was blown away by it when I first heard it – a feeling not unlike being a 14-year-old entering high school and seeing attractive young men and women roaming the halls. It’s a feeling that can skew one’s perceptions. Now that I’m older I can reflect on the situation, take a fresh listen, and conclude … “It’s a really good album.” I don’t think it’s the best album ever. It doesn’t even crack my Beatles Top Five. But it’s damned good.

I first heard the opening pair of Sgt. Pepper’s tracks on my oldest sister Anne’s 8-track of 1967-1970, often called “The Blue Album.” It was a 1973 greatest-hits compilation released with 1962-1966, or “The Red Album,” and both were quite popular. I was probably 10, and hearing the audience sounds, I thought the title track was recorded live. I tried to imagine what the band was doing on-stage during the horn interlude, beginning at 0:44 on “Sgt. Pepper’s,” that was making the audience laugh so heartily.

I’ll say up front that one of the reasons the album isn’t higher on my list is because there’s not enough guitar on it. However, the guitar on this song, particularly in the first 0:20, is actually pretty cool. It’s McCartney playing lead, with George adding cool rhythm chords underneath, and on headphones you can hear them dueling throughout the whole song[ref]Underscoring what a great guitar song it is, Jimi Hendrix learned the song and played it live in London just days after the album was released – with Paul and George in the audience.[/ref]. It’s a great intro to the concept album[ref]The concept being that The Beatles were some other band, and these were their songs – a concept which nobody but Paul was ever really on board with.[/ref], with great vocals, and it leads into one of my favorite Beatles’ songs ever.

“With a Little Help From my Friends” is a perfect Lennon/McCartney song for Ringo to sing[ref]There was always one Ringo song per album.[/ref], and he sings it (as Billy Shears!) perfectly. Paul’s bass is front and center, with its swooping ranginess. The band’s harmonies, and call-and-response vocals, perfectly support Starr’s limited range, and really make the lyrics, about the precious value of friendship, come alive. Harrison gets a few opportunities to throw in some signature guitar riffs, but throughout the album, there are fewer and fewer opportunities for him. After this song, the album becomes very studio-focused.

For example, the wonderful and weird “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” which is one of the band’s most well-known songs. With instrumentation including a tambura and electric guitars made to sound like other instruments, McCartney’s bass is the only rock instrument that stands out. In a great BBC documentary on the album, composer Howard Goodall explains why Paul’s bass is so great on the song – all technical music terms and such. But the point is it sounds cool. And all the instrumentation make John’s wild imagery[ref]Inspired by his son Julian’s preschool drawing, not, as many have speculated, LSD.[/ref] sound particularly strange.

One song on which Harrison’s guitar gets to shine is the terrific “Getting Better.”

It shines in the way George’s playing always does – with subtlety, and warranting repeated listens to fully appreciate it. His ringing chords throughout the chorus make the song. It’s a Paul song, but John famously contributed the “couldn’t get no worse” lyrics. It’s a fun piece, and my favorite of the three McCartney tracks that have always run together a bit in my mind. “Fixing a Hole,” although a music-hall song instead of a rock song, also features Harrison’s guitar genius, for example, from 0:38 to 1:00 and his solo beginning at 1:16. The lyrics are definitely upbeat-Paul. Which is different from the next song, “She’s Leaving Home,” which features maudlin-Paul lyrics.

“She’s Leaving Home” is a lovely song, but it’s one that I’ve liked less and less over the years. I’ve grown tired of the song’s lush orchestration, which may have been the inspiration for Phil Spector’s overdone Let It Be production. When I first heard the album I was impressed by this style of song coming from a rock band. In the same way, I was very impressed by Lennon’s “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!,” a show-tune style of song about a Victorian acrobat, of sorts, with impressive studio tricks and sounds. I liked the song because it was unexpected and represented what I thought the album represented. It’s sort of how I was impressed by those senior girls when I was a freshman.

The song on Sgt. Pepper’s that is the equivalent of an overlooked student – someone with different hair and different clothes that, back in the day, my friends and I thought was just a weirdo – but who, in viewing a yearbook 40 years later might have caused me to ask “why didn’t I know this cute person?” is Harrison’s “Within You, Without You.”

For many years I’d skip over this song. Then, at some point in the past 20 years or so, I began to allow myself to be enveloped by its strange (to my ears) sounds and insightful lyrics and now it might be my favorite on the record. It’s actually got a great melody that sticks in my head, and the line “life goes on/ within you/ and without you” is a stroke of genius, and a timeless lesson that has helped me greatly in dealing with all the ups and downs of being a human. I no longer skip the song, I look forward to its strangeness.

Which isn’t to say I don’t also love the timelessness of a great Western pop song like McCartney’s “When I’m Sixty-Four,” a song which would have been a hit at any time since about 1840.

This is one of my earliest favorite Beatles’ songs[ref]Although never on par with “Strawberry Fields Forever,” which has always been THE favorite.[/ref]. I grew up hearing (and enjoying) my mom’s show-tunes and my dad’s brass music, and this song sounds like an incorporation of both of those styles. It’s true that, as John Lennon described it, it is “Granny Music,” and the part of me that loves The New York Dolls and Sonic Youth HATES this song. But it’s so catchy, and has sweet lyrics that get better as I approach 64 years old. And with Paul’s melodic bass once again front-and-center, carrying the piece, it’s hard for me not to love it.

I love all the songs on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, and by pointing out some that I’m less-enthused about than others, I don’t mean to denigrate the entire album. Whenever the album is in the news, typically on -0 and -5 anniversaries of its release, there are many pieces written that go out of their way to say the album is garbage. I’m all for people expressing dislike for popular artists based on their own tastes (I’ve written before that I just don’t get the appeal of Bob Dylan) but sometimes people just want to stir shit up. I’m not saying I dislike songs like “Lovely Rita” and “Good Morning Good Morning,” they’re just not strong favorites of mine.

“Lovely Rita” has great bass (of course), cool harmony vocals throughout and a catchy piano solo, played by producer George Martin. It’s about a meter maid, a real one[ref]Her name wasn’t Rita, however.[/ref] who gave Paul a parking ticket at Abbey Road Studios. My favorite part is the end, after 2:10, with all its weird sounds and voices. “Good Morning Good Morning” has an awesome guitar solo played by McCartney at 1:17, and strange time signature changes. A brass band backs Lennon on lyrics about a day in the life … It also features cool animal sounds at the end, each animal capable of frightening the preceding one.

Next Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band comes back, with more electric guitar from George this time, to thank the audience for coming to the show, which leads into one of the all-time great Beatle songs: “A Day in the Life.”

It’s a true Lennon/McCartney collaboration, each of them bringing the best of their talents to the song and combining them into a masterpiece. John mostly wrote the beginning and end, and Paul mostly wrote the middle. I haven’t mentioned Ringo much yet, but he really shines on this song, heightening the tension in Lennon’s sections with his fills and rolls. He plays like an orchestral percussionist. The crazy orchestra crescendo after Lennon’s section (1:45) is thrilling, especially as it explodes into Paul’s jaunty wakeup section (2:16). The transition back to John, at 2:49, with its dreamlike sounds, is perfect, and once again Ringo is brilliant on John’s final verse. The crazy orchestral crescendo occurs again[ref]As I’ve said before, there are great books that go into detail about the Beatles’ recordings. You should read them – especially how the band and George Martin got a bunch of stodgy classical musicians to improvise on this track by giving them just a low note and a high note![/ref] leading to that epic piano note – four Beatles on four pianos all playing the same chord. Astounding. And be sure to stick around for 5:11, where nonsense gibberish and a pitch only dogs can hear await!

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is an album unlike any other. It stands out in a line of popular musical development, a touchstone for Western civilization. But don’t let that fact overwhelm you. There are many other pretty faces in the crowd, and just because everyone tells you who the best are, you should decide for yourself which ones are the superstars.

TRACK LISTING:
“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”
“With a Little Help from My Friends”
“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”
“Getting Better”
“Fixing a Hole”
“She’s Leaving Home”
“Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!”
“Within You Without You”
“When I’m Sixty-Four”
“Lovely Rita”
“Good Morning Good Morning”
“Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise)”
“A Day in the Life”

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Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged 1967, Best Album Ever, George Harrison, George Martin, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Studio Magic, The Beatles

12th Favorite Beatles Album: With The Beatles

Posted on November 17, 2019 | 1 comment

With The Beatles.
1963, EMI. Producer: George Martin.
Purchased CD, Approx. 1996.

IN A NUTSHELL: With The Beatles is The Beatles’ second album, written and recorded in a hurry to capitalize on Beatlemania. It’s a testament to the Lennon/McCartney songwriting team that they could write so many excellent songs so quickly! And a testament to the entire band that they could execute so well these songs, and a slew of their favorite covers, and make a record that remains one of the best in the past 60 years.

NOTE: The setup – below the line ↓ – might be the best part … Or skip right to the album discussion.

~ ~ ~

Way back in 2006, I released my first stand-up comedy CD, It’s Weird, Man. You’ll notice I said “first comedy CD.”

This is because when I recorded my album, I was hoping there would be more. I’d been doing stand-up for about 12 years by 2006, doing it in earnest for about 7, and I thought it was time to get some of my jokes on record. Rick Jenkins, owner of the best comedy club in the world, The Comedy Studio, in Cambridge, MA, gave me two nights to record in front of terrific weekend crowds. The excellent comedian Tim McIntire recorded my sets, and helped select and sequence tracks.

Then I called some old friends. I got in touch with an old acquaintance from my days in The April Skies, Larry Geiger, and he did all the amazing CD design and packaging work. I called Jake Crawford, still doing great work (then, as now) in The April Skies, and worked it out so the CD could be on his WiaB Records label. Then, oblivious to the changes that were already afoot in the delivery and consumption of recorded material by 2006, I went about having CDs manufactured.

The CD company said I could manufacture 300 CDs, or 1000, or 5000 or even more. I was sure that 5000 was the number I’d need, given the hilarious nature of my jokes. However, that was expensive, so I settled on 300, knowing that I could use the proceeds from selling those first 300 to finance a second batch of pressings, which I was quite certain would be 5000. Or more.

As of November, 2019, I’m still the proud owner of 237 copies of my CD, all of which are stored lovingly in a few moldy old cardboard boxes in the basement. My album is on all the streaming services, and approximately once every 18 months, I’ll get a check, out of the blue, for $9 or so. But despite all that loot, I don’t think that it was digital streaming that cut into CD sales, preventing me from reaching that second pressing. I think that reality simply didn’t live up to my grandiose expectations.

But what if it had? What if reality had actually EXCEEDED my expectations? What if I’d sold those first 300 discs, then the next 5000, then had orders for thousands more? What if some entertainment conglomerate had signed me to a contract, and the world was eager, yearning, even demanding more product from me? What would I have done? I didn’t have enough jokes for another record!

The Beatles, 1960, Hamburg. (l to r) Lennon, Harrison, Pete Best, McCartney, Stu Sutcliffe.

One thing I definitely could not do would be to “cover” other peoples’ jokes. I couldn’t decide to fill out my next album by recording Jim Gaffigan’s classic “Hot Pockets” bit, and throw in a bunch of old Joan Rivers jokes. Comedy doesn’t work that way. (Rather, it’s not supposed to.) However, music does! And lucky for The Beatles! When the album Please Please Me shot them to the top of the charts in the UK in 1963, and they needed more music on the market, they had a backlog of hundreds of songs from other artists that they’d been performing for years. They recorded some of those songs first, while Lennon/McCartney wrote a few more new songs, then recorded the new ones, and next thing you know, With The Beatles hit the stores.

Of course, the band’s first album, Please Please Me, was also nearly half cover songs, so this arrangement wasn’t unusual. The Beatles were great musicians, and they had logged hundreds of hours of live performances, so their cover songs[ref]Cover Songs are songs originally performed by other artists.[/ref] were particularly strong. But Please Please Me included originals that had (mostly) been around for years. And as With the Beatles shows, even the songs dashed off by Lennon/McCartney are better than most of the stuff by other bands. Take, for example, the phenomenal lead track, “It Won’t Be Long.”

What a great opening track! Lennon’s double-tracked voice opens the album with an urgent message to all those Beatlemaniacs: it won’t be long! It’s got all the hallmarks of a terrific Beatle song: great melody, George’s cool, descending guitar riff (first heard at 0:13), Ringo’s sloshy drumming, and the catchy backing vocals – shouting “yeah” back and forth with John, and the “you left me” countermelody in the bridge, at 0:42. I guess it’s the bridge – it’s played twice, which is unusual in a bridge. I’ll call it the bridge just to point out that the song has an unusual structure – chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, verse, chorus, bridge, verse, chorus. Whatever you call it, I absolutely love when McCartney hits a higher note on the 5th “yeah” the second time through the bridge. It’s stuff like that that makes me love this band. The simple stuff.

Up next is a quiet piece, a slow dance after that frantic opening, Lennon’s “All I’ve Got to Do.” It’s got a bit of a Motown feel to it, and John’s lead vocal is really strong. McCartney plays chords on the bass through the verse, which sounds cool, but I mainly like this song because it leads into a classic: “All My Loving.”

It’s another song that opens with vocals, Paul’s this time. What stands out immediately is the triplet-strumming rhythm guitar by John Lennon. It’s really impressive, and Ringo makes it swing with his syncopated backbeat. The harmony “Oooo”s are classic Beatle, and I can’t forget to mention Paul’s walking bass line. Also – Paul harmonizes with himself on the third verse[ref]Which sounds cool and is the subject of much debate over at BeatlesBible[/ref]. This is one of the songs the band played on their first Ed Sullivan Show performance in the USA, in February 1964, and since Paul can’t harmonize with himself live, George sang the melody and Paul took the high harmony.

On With the Beatles, George gets his first composition on a Beatles album with “Don’t Bother Me,” sort of a dour song with an upbeat rhythm. It’s a decent song, and has really cool guitar throughout, and a nice surf/country guitar solo at 1:18, but I think it’s safe to say George will do much better on future records[ref]As was seen on #13, Yellow Submarine.[/ref]. Then again, not every Lennon/McCartney song was incredible – as “Little Child” shows. I mean, it has great vocals (particularly “I’m so sad and lonely”), and is a rocker, and Lennon shows off his harmonica chops … but it doesn’t do a lot for me.

The cover songs begin in earnest next, with the band covering my parents’ favorite song, “Till There Was You.” They were fans of the original from the Broadway musical The Music Man, which I prefer as well. George plays a nice solo, and McCartney can really sing, but … it sounds like filler. Even the next song, “Please Mr. Postman,” a Motown cover, sounds – to me – like filler. The harmonies are great, Ringo is terrific, but the 1961 original by the Marvelettes was so excellent that it makes me wonder why the band put this on With the Beatles.

This isn’t to say The Beatles cover songs couldn’t be excellent. Next up is a cover of the Chuck Berry classic “Roll Over Beethoven,” and it’s terrific.

I’m a Chuck Berry fan, and I love his stompin’ original version, but I like what the band does with it, as well. It’s less rockin’, but has a bit more swing, thanks to Ringo. He plays a heartbeat beat, and on my CD of With the Beatles (not so much on YouTube) I can clearly hear him accenting the “one,” really driving the song. Harrison’s guitar is really cool, and as usual Paul takes the opportunity to make the simple blues bass line more interesting than you’d expect.

The next song is one that both Paul and John later dismissed, rather coldly, and which many people – even Beatles fans – seem to dislike. But I really like it a lot: “Hold Me Tight.” Sure, Paul’s out of tune at certain points, but his voice matches the urgency of the handclaps, the insistent riff and Ringo’s drumming. And the three-part harmony, always a strength of the band, sounds great on the “You” choruses.

One of my favorite cover songs on With the Beatles is “You Really Got a Hold On Me,” an old Smoky Robinson & the Miracles song.

This is a case of the band, and producer George Martin (who plays piano on the recording), selecting a great song. It also shows off Harrison’s knack for singing those difficult close harmonies. On most Beatles’ songs sung by Lennon, McCartney usually sang the high harmonies, and Harrison was usually the third part – often close to the melody and much subtler. Here it works (as in the original) as the main harmony. Lennon’s lead vocal is strong and soulful, and Ringo plays nice, odd fills in the bridge.

Ringo gets to show off his pipes on the next number, “I Wanna Be Your Man.” Ringo (and George, to a lesser extent) tends to be overlooked, or even scorned, by many folks – both for his drumming and his singing. His crime seems to be that he is not John Lennon or Paul McCartney – just like everyone else who’s ever lived since the dawn of humanity. He’s actually an excellent drummer, and a fun singer, and “I Wanna Be Your Man” shows off both. It starts with a little guitar, and features a nice George solo, later. John and Paul wrote the song but neither loved it very much so they gave it to Ringo to sing. They also gave it to the Rolling Stones, who had a UK hit with it by dirtying it up a bit.

Next the boys are back to their cover-song ways with an obscure song by a group called The Donays, “Devil In Her Heart.” It’s a fine song, and George really does a great job on the lead vocal. Ringo’s fills are nice, but it doesn’t do a whole lot for me. Similarly, John’s composition “Not a Second Time” is a fine song, but isn’t one I turn to very often. The melody is strangely complicated and meandering for a Beatles’ song[ref]Something The Times‘ music critic William Mann seemed to enthuse about in 1963 when he praised the song’s “Aeolian cadences.”[/ref]. McCartney’s bass is great, but I wonder why they chose a piano solo instead of a guitar?

But leave it to The Beatles to finish With the Beatles off with a bang, even if it is a cover song. It became one of their signature songs, even though it had already been a hit for R&B singer Barrett Strong[ref]And also the first hit for Motown’s Berry Gordy.[/ref].

I do love the original, but The Beatles do a great job here. Ringo’s eight-beat bass drum gives the song an urgency, and the boys’ harmonies are terrific. It’s a great number that they really made a classic. John’s screams are cool, Paul’s bass notes leading to the chorus are sweet, and it’s simply a classic.

I’m not saying cover songs are bad, or that they should be avoided. In fact, With the Beatles shows that the band can truly play any style – from Broadway to R&B to rock ‘n roll – and make it work. I prefer the band’s albums with more Lennon/McCartney and Harrison songs, but With The Beatles is wonderful, no matter who wrote the songs! And it certainly sold more than the 63 CDs I managed.

TRACK LISTING:
“It Won’t Be Long”
“All I’ve Got to Do”
“All My Loving”
“Don’t Bother Me”
“Little Child”
“Till There Was You”
“Please Mr. Postman”
“Roll Over Beethoven”
“Hold Me Tight”
“You Really Got a Hold On Me”
“I Wanna Be Your Man”
“Devil In Her Heart”
“Not a Second Time”
“Money (That’s What I Want)”

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Posted in Beatles Albums

Tagged 1963, Cover Songs, George Harrison, George Martin, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Second Album, The Beatles, With the Beatles

13th Favorite Beatles Album: Yellow Submarine.

Posted on November 2, 2019 | 4 comments

Yellow Submarine.
1969, Apple Records. Producer: George Martin.
Purchased CD, Approx. 1991.

IN A NUTSHELL: Yellow Submarine is an album that I find difficult to rate higher than any other Beatles’ albums simply because there are only 4 new Beatles songs on it! The band contributed four excellent new songs to the soundtrack, and a couple older favorites were added, and that’s the extent of the band’s contribution. Brilliant producer George Martin adds some orchestral background pieces from the movie, and that’s that.

NOTE: The setup – below the line ↓ – might be the best part … Or skip right to the album discussion.

~~~~

I’m 52 years old, so it’s no use lying, or even minimizing, what I’m going to say: I don’t mind kids’ music. I’m talking about music produced and aimed directly at kids, not music recorded by kids, although some of that’s pretty good, too[ref]By the way, if you ever doubted the Hanson talent, check out this live Tiny Desk concert.[/ref]. I liked kids’ music when I was a kid, and I liked it as a parent, and I’ll probably like it again when I’m a grandparent.

I think somewhere over the past several years on this blog I’ve discussed my love, as a child, for the LP Havin’ Fun with Ernie and Bert. It was released in 1972, the year I turned 5, and it’s the first album I recall that was all mine, that wasn’t a family record, or one of my sisters’. I used to go to the basement every day to play its songs and, as my mom has recalled, “march around the basement.”

The album had fun songs with lots of activities, and a gatefold opening that included a map (for helping Cookie Monster with “The Magic Cookie“) and pictures and tips on how to best enjoy it. (“Get some pots and pans from your pantry to bang on!“) The songs on the album were purely for kids – fun, silly, simple. The only (subtle) tip of the hat to the larger world of pop and rock into which it was released was the cover art that seemed to be a nod to Simon & Garfunkel.

The other kids’ albums I remember from my childhood are selections from Walt Disney movies. I think we may have had a “Disney Greatest Hits” type record, and perhaps a soundtrack from Mary Poppins, or Bedknobs and Broomsticks, although I may be conflating my memories of childhood jigsaw puzzles with childhood music. But the point is, these were orchestral, Broadway-style songs. Back then Kids’ Records were not interested in staying current with pop music tastes and sounds.

I moved on from Ernie and Bert pretty much directly to my sister’s Elton John albums and the 70s version of Weird Al Yankovic: albums of collected novelty songs sold on TV by companies like K-Tel and Ronco. But my childhood musical tastes – Ernie & Bert, Disney songs – have maintained through adulthood: the music I like continues to skew strongly toward good melodies. (This is probably a big reason why I love The Beatles.)

By the time I had kids of my own, in the late 90s and early 00s, an entertainment juggernaut had completely transformed kids’ music: The Wiggles. Many parents disliked The Wiggles when they first saw them, and I think a big part of it was that in the 90s it was unusual to see grown men performing for kids with no women. That may seem odd today, in 2019, but in 1999 it was really jarring to see. Myself, I immediately loved the band – mainly because my toddler son LOVED THE BAND. It was impossible for me to see him sing and dance along to the songs and NOT feel some love for the geniuses that gave that to him.

What I really liked about The Wiggles, however, was the fact that they took rock music sounds and styles and put them into kids’ songs. The Wiggles were a band, playing their own songs, on their own instruments, and they touched off a wave of “rock music” kids bands. The fabulous Dan Zanes & Friends[ref]Hey, I’m good friends with one of Dan Zanes’ friends! Just had to say that.[/ref], The Laurie Berkner Band, The Imagination Movers … There were just so many! Then there was Choo-Choo Soul, a show that made R&B-style kids’ songs. It was the Golden Age of Kids’ Music for Gen-X Adults.

The proof was when bands for grown-ups began getting into the act. The wonderful They Might Be Giants released several terrific kids albums, including Here Come the ABCs and Here Come the 123s. Def Leppard, Barenaked Ladies, even former freshmen, and one-hit wonders, The Verve Pipe, released kids’ albums. (Of course, Johnny Cash was ahead of everyone by 30 years.) Soon, parents were demanding rock music as kids music.

But leave it to the best band in the history of the universe to have presaged all of this kids rock music by a couple generations. The band, and Paul McCartney, in particular, had been writing Wiggles-style songs since the start of their run[ref]Please, fellow Beatles fans. I make comments like this to be funny, not because I don’t know that The Wiggles wrote Beatles-style songs. Thank you.[/ref]. They also produced flat-out, old-school kids-style songs (i.e. not Wiggles-style) throughout their career. Catchy, singalong melodies were right in their wheelhouse. And although they usually sang about love, which any child will tell you is “icky,” many of their songs are about less icky stuff, like colorful submarines and counting with friends, and, in fact, would sound really good as the soundtrack to a cartoon movie!

For details about how the movie Yellow Submarine and its soundtrack came together, you should consult any Beatles biography, particularly one by Mark Lewisohn. Or, to save time, check out the Wikipedia page. Basically, the band was contractually obliged to produce four new songs for the movie, which they did. These songs were slapped onto some other old Beatles’ songs used in the movie, a few orchestral selections from the film, written by producer George Martin, were tacked on, and Voila! Beatles album.

So, basically, even without trying, The Beatles could produce an excellent album – albeit one that mostly sounds like it’s made for kids. In particular, the title song (originally released on the band’s Revolver album) seems aimed squarely at the elementary-school, let’s-sing-a-song age group. This is a difficult song to write about because it seems like it’s become a children’s staple – like “Old MacDonald.” Nearly every kid in America, Europe, perhaps the world, has heard and sung along to it. I’d wager more people know the song than know that it’s by The Beatles.

It was written together by McCartney and John Lennon[ref]All songs by Paul or John were credited to Lennon/McCartney, no matter who wrote them. Some songs’ authorship have been disputed by the pair in the press, but this one seems to be one they both agree was a collaboration.[/ref] expressly for drummer Ringo Starr to sing, and its simple, contagious melody and magical lyrics suit him well. Perhaps the coolest thing about the song is all the sound effects created for it. The band and its friends[ref]Including lead Rolling Stone (at the time) Brian Jones[/ref] blew bubbles in water, rattled chains, and talked in tin cans to create the undersea atmosphere. It’s a fun recording, and if you haven’t listened closely to the original in years, it’s worth a listen.

One of the best things about the album is that George Harrison contributes a higher percentage of new songs (two of the four) than on any other Beatles album. The first is the weird, wonderful “Only a Northern Song.”

The song’s (hilarious) lyrics show Harrison’s justifiable frustration (“It doesn’t really matter what chords I play/ What words I say …/ As it’s only a Northern Song.”) about the band’s publishing arrangement, in which his songs were owned by publisher Northern Songs, a company of which Lennon and McCartney each owned 15%, compared to Harrison’s 0.8%. This meant he made far less from the publishing rights to his own songs than John and Paul. It opens with a spooky organ, which suits Harrison’s laconic delivery. McCartney’s bass is terrific, and Starr’s drums fills are really great[ref]A recurring theme of these Beatle album discussions will be Ringo Starr’s often overlooked brilliance as a drummer.[/ref]. About 1:10 a section of crazy dissonance appears, then recurs at 2:30 to finish the song. It’s a song that benefits from listening on headphones, and for a song that the band (and many listeners) has frequently dismissed, it’s pretty cool.

Next, the band goes all-in on kids’ music again with “All Together Now.”

It’s a cute little number that has some cool Beatle-y things in it. For one, it’s one of their songs where both Paul and John sing lead – Paul on the “1-2-3-4,” etc., and John on the “sail the ship,” etc. I love when they sing in harmony, because their voices blend perfectly. But I also love when they are co-lead singers because I like to think of them as best buddies, and they sound like it when they trade off lines. It’s got a fun build up, from acoustic guitars, then adding bass guitar and drums and harmonicas and voices and I think some sort of saxophone. Then it speeds up at 1:15 through to the end. It’s a fun, goofy, terrific song for kids.

Speaking of John and Paul singing harmony, and acting like best buddies, the next song up on Yellow Submarine is one of my all-time favorites from the band: “Hey Bulldog.”

There’s a cool story about recording this gem, and you can watch a video about it here. The song opens with Lennon playing a piano riff that is somehow both dark and upbeat at the same time. Harrison’s guitar joins in on it, with Ringo’s terrific tom-heavy drums, and finally McCartney adds his bass to the riff. Lennon’s voice is perfect on lyrics that are part nonsense (“sheepdog/ standing in the rain”), part koan (“some kind of innocence is measured out in years”), and part simple kindness (“if you’re lonely you can talk to me”). McCartney’s bass on this song is outstanding, constantly changing, holding down the low end while providing, basically, a second lead guitar. And while we’re talking lead guitar, check out Harrison throughout, but especially his solo at 1:13. Lennon and McCartney’s superlative harmony singing is on display, and I love how near the end they dissolve into silliness and banter and make each other laugh[ref]The song was originally called “Hey Bullfrog,” but when McCartney barked during a take, Lennon changed it to “Hey Bulldog.”[/ref]. I ESPECIALLY love near the end, when they completely break down then pull it together for one final, terrifically harmonic “Bulldog,” at 3:03. It’s these tiny things that bring me joy, and really underscore the fact that I’m rather obsessed by this band.

So obsessed, in fact, that Harrison’s “It’s All Too Much,” his second number on Yellow Submarine, is a song I often find going through my head, especially when I’m stressed out and thinking, well, “it’s all too much.”

It’s a noisy, droning, psychedelic song, with a tooting organ riff throughout. Harrison’s voice, beginning about 1:03 sings a great, rangy melody that seems to ignore the crazy sounds around it. And this really suits the lyrics, which are a positive reflection on all the joyful wonder of the world. Ringo’s drums, once again, are really cool. He plays off-kilter fills that accent the song perfectly. The guitar is cool, played by both Lennon and Harrison. A variety of horns are added, McCartney & Lennon add harmonies, and the whole thing begins to sound on the verge of breakdown beginning around 3:45. From there it becomes a kind of meditative drone, as Harrison wails about 4:40 and the three singers sing “too much,” well, perhaps too much, but that’s kind of the point of it. It’s one of the band’s most distinctive songs.

Next up is another all-time great Beatles song, “All You Need Is Love.”

The song was released as a single a year before the movie, but since it appeared in the film it was included in the soundtrack. It’s one of my favorite Lennon compositions, including the lyrics, and one of my favorite performances by the band. Since it was recorded partially live, as part of “Our World,” a worldwide live TV broadcast, there’s a party atmosphere to it. As usual, McCartney plays lead bass and Harrison’s guitar solo is unforgettable. It’s a timeless classic, and actually has a bit of kids’ song cheer and simplicity to it.

The rest of the album, well, look. I’m not gonna try to bullshit you people: I can’t get through it. It’s a suite of 7 orchestral pieces by George Martin, the band’s longtime producer, that were written as the film’s score. There’s “Pepperland,” “Sea of Time,” “Sea of Holes,” “Sea of Monsters,” “March of the Meanies,” “Pepperland Laid Waste,” and “Yellow Submarine in Pepperland.” I’m sure they are brilliant pieces, and I have Beatle-y friends who swear they are some of the best works to appear on any Beatles’ albums. But I am not a classical music guy, nor a recorded orchestra guy, and I haven’t seen the film in 35 years, so it just doesn’t connect with me.

So there you have it. Yellow Submarine is my least-favorite Beatles record, but still probably my 13th-favorite all-time record. It make me happy, it makes me feel good, and that’s what we were all taught music was supposed to do back when we were kids. It’s what I learned from Ernie and Bert, and it’s a big part of why I love The Beatles!

TRACK LISTING:
“Yellow Submarine”
“Only a Northern Song”
“All Together Now”
“Hey Bulldog”
“It’s All Too Much”
“All You Need Is Love”
“Pepperland”
“Sea of Time”
“Sea of Holes”
“Sea of Monsters”
“March of the Meanies”
“Pepperland Laid Waste”
“Yellow Submarine in Pepperland”

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Posted in Beatles Albums

Tagged Beatles, Ernie & Bert, George Harrison, George Martin, John Lennon, Kids Music, Movie Soundtrack, Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Yellow Submarine

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