GET BACK? LET IT END

GET BACK

Following the tension filled months that produced the White Album, the usual enthusiasm for group related business all but disappeared. Apple Corporation, originally conceived by Brian Epstein as a structure to help shelter Beatle revenue from Britain’s excessive 96 percent tax on top earners had been expanded to encompass a record label (with EMI still handling distribution), film division and an extremely wasteful electronics component headed by self-proclaimed inventor, Alexis Madras aka “Magic Alex”.

Only the record label saw any profit, while the rest of the operation squandered money at an alarming rate. What John and Paul had initially touted as a form of Western Communism ended up as a vehicle for every type of lunatic idea that you could possibly imagine. According to Lennon, those in the inner sanctum were, “living off of them, eating and drinking like it was Rome."

Utopia was nowhere in sight.

Amidst all of this, McCartney thought that he would make a last ditch effort at rallying the band around a new project to kick off 1969. The plan seemed simple enough. Rehearse and record new songs, then take the stage to perform the material live in concert at London ’s Roundhouse theatre and broadcast the result.

This was not to be.

Returning to the two guitars/bass and drums format and performing tracks live was one thing. Allowing a film crew to document the entire episode was a miscalculation. Even in the best of circumstances, arguments will ensue amongst groups involved in a creative endeavor. Had they considered the matter more closely, they could have compromised and just did a concert movie when they were ready to go.

Hindsight is that special place from which the view is always crystal clear

Still battle weary from the previous year, they trooped into Twickenham Film Studios on January 2, 1969. Hours of footage reveal a group of people whose relations are in shambles. There are some genuinely spontaneous moments involving jams on old rock and R & B standards and the usual silliness that people who have been close for a long time are wont to indulge in. The banter seems quite forced though, no doubt mustered for the benefit of the camera. Harrison is sullen throughout, quite disinterested in anything on the agenda. Lennon seems glassy eyed and semi-stoned, with his soon-to-be wife ever present. Ringo sits patiently while the discussions ramble on around him, weary but hitting his mark when the music starts. Paul plays the role of musical director, cheerleader and seems to be the lone interested party in the whole undertaking. His bossiness ignited George’s temper early on, though it was a violent argument with Lennon, during which punches were thrown, that caused Harrison to pack up his guitar and quit the scene for a few days.

What began as a promising idea to ease the band back into live performance, quickly dissolved into bitter acrimony.

Despite the tension, there was still excellent material on the table. It’s a pity that they weren’t treating the work with the same degree of care as they had previously. Paul had two outstanding contributions in “Let It Be” and “The Long and Winding Road” that were seriously compromised by the “play it live and capture the take” philosophy. His move to piano for these performances meant that bass duties fell into John’s lap and his playing was sloppy and careless, at best. Further to this, he openly disliked these selections, mocking the quasi religious style of "Let It Be". Lennon came up with some bizarre parody lyrics (squeaking turds of whiskey over me) and at one point was noisily barking "Boof! Boof! Boof!" instead of the harmony part that he should have been singing.

They still managed to record a lot of good music.

“Get Back” went through several changes in arrangement and lyrical content before it was deemed finished. Inspired by busking Canned Heat’s “Going Up the Country” and the vocal mannerisms used in that tune, Paul turns in one of their late period gems, featuring great, nimble fingered electric piano solos from Billy Preston. Ringo drives the band with a snappy, snare driven gallop, while both Harrison and McCartney employ very economic lines to support the rhythm. Lennon takes up the lead and creates very tasteful coloring along with his signature solo.

Before settling on the brief sketch involving Jo Jo and Sweet Loretta, “Get Back” had “joke” lyrics that amounted to a parody of the anti-immigration rants of British politician Enoch Powell. Bootleg releases pegged the early takes of the song with the politically incorrect title of “No Pakistanis”. Another version was sung entirely in Reeperbahn German, while the most entertaining of these is one that has Paul laughing throughout. One composing trick that they often used was to employ nonsense words over a new melody line, with an eye toward replacing them when inspiration struck. This would keep the arrangement intact until the final draft was in place.

Regardless of how it took shape, the end result topped singles charts worldwide and sold by the truckload.

Billy Preston's presence made a huge difference.



John brought in “Don’t Let Me Down”, which benefited greatly from the band’s input. Straightforward and impassioned, it is among the first of many songs that would be addressed directly to Ms. Ono. Lennon’s raw vocal is balanced by some nice three part harmony on the chorus, while the musical structure of the bridge has McCartney’s fingerprints all over it. His busy bass fretwork is, complete with octave leaps, a great complement to Starr’s subtle cymbal work. Preston weighs in with tasteful keys to lift the piece even higher. The rooftop performance of this is one of the high points of the Let It Be film, even if John forgets a line and quickly ad-libs some gibberish to fill the gap. George Harrison was heavily influenced by Robbie Robertson’s style of playing at this time, having spent the latter part of ’68 in Woodstock , hanging out with Dylan and the Band. Robertson himself was, in turn, emulating Curtis Mayfield’s instrumental touches. Have a listen to the opening riff and much of the guitar coloring in “Don’t Let Me Down” and you’ll hear very definite evidence of this.



Remarkably, this was relegated to the B-side of the “Get Back” single.

If you really delve into the reams of film and tape that comprise the Get Back Saga, there are some very interesting curios to be found. You do have to wade through interminable reels of discussion and endless takes of “Dig a Pony” to find them though. Should you happen to get your hands on the multi-disc bootleg set (The Get Back Journals) and start cursing Paul out for take 67 of any particular song, you’re blaming the wrong Beatle for your indisposition.

It was John Lennon who pushed the band to strictly adhere to the “live with no overdubs” routine and therefore he was responsible for adding hours of frustration to an already gloomy atmosphere.

Dredging up “Across the Universe” was symptomatic of Lennon’s resistance to present new material. It is a truly decent song, though a definitive treatment was not achieved in the first attempts to record it the previous year. They fared no better during these sessions. Ultimately, what you hear on “Let It Be” is the same version that landed on the “Our World” compilation back in ’68. When Phil Spector was brought in to do reconstructive surgery on the Get Back tapes, he took the original recording, slowed it down, removed the bird sound effects, high backing vocals, added strings and choral voices and made it slightly more tolerable.

Arguably, a much better arrangement could have been hit upon if they had employed the same tough-minded approach to crafting the songs as in the early days. Getting back to the roots would have worked much better if everyone was willing to put in the effort.

Harrison offered up a number of great songs for inclusion, only to be denied due to the already full slate of John and Paul’s compositions. “For You Blue” is a forgettable 12 bar blues, with some wonky slide playing from Lennon and “I Me Mine” is interesting, although neither were of the standard of the majestic songs with which he would fill All Things Must Pass in 1970.

Things weren’t all bad during this time. “I’ve Got a Feeling” was a true collaborative effort, taking John’s “Everybody Had a Hard Year” fragment and welding it together with the main body of Paul’s idea. This “Frankensong” turned out pretty well and is one of the better rock tunes in the set. “One After 909” dated back to a very early chapter of the Lennon/McCartney songbook and its 1969 revival is light years ahead of the clumsy recording that they made in 1963, which was wisely taken no further. That discarded take was made available (officially) with the first installment of their six disc Anthology series.



Speaking of 1963, “Two of Us” started out as a musical ringer of the style that they made famous as Beatlemania first made its way across the UK and into Europe . John and Paul share a mic and some laughs as Paul sings the bridge in an exaggerated Elvis impersonation. Ringo slides back into Merseybeat mode with those famous drum stutters on snare and high hats that punctuated earlier tunes like “I Want to Hold Your Hand” and “Twist and Shout”. This arrangement was soon abandoned in favor of a slower, more folk/acoustic approach, with bittersweet lyrics that almost sound like Paul is making one last attempt to reach out to his soon to be estranged musical partner.

You and I have memories, longer than the road that stretches out ahead.

McCartney has said that much of the subject matter was inspired by his (then) new relationship with Linda Eastman. Lines like the one above don’t seem to fit that scenario. Whatever the intent, it is a very underrated song with excellent Everly Brothers harmonies. They even saw fit to launch into “Bye Bye Love” following one of the many rehearsals devoted to this one and you can hear Paul throw in a “Take it, Phil”, jokingly referring to Phil Everly in one rendition.



When editing the “Let It Be” film, it seems that many light hearted moments were removed by director Michael Lindsay Hogg.



Pure emotion seems to ooze from every part of Paul’s “The Long and Winding Road ”. Featuring poignant lines, it could almost be construed as another message to John regarding the crossroads that they had reached in their creative partnership. This is not established nor has the author offered any insight as to what inspired him to write this heartfelt piece. Demoed in late 1968 (with the only copy given to Alastair Taylor as gift for his wife), the full band treatment given to the song during the sessions in ’69 is excellent with the exception of John’s bass part, which sounds as if he’s wandering around in an attempt to find the notes. He really should have listened a bit more closely to what McCartney was offering, though it’s probably fair to say that coming up with an inventive bass figure for a tune that he wasn’t particularly excited about was quite low on his list of priorities. More than likely, with Billy Preston on hand, they may have planned to have him play piano and thus, move Paul back to bass for the filmed performance. (This didn’t pan out, though)

When Phil Spector was working with the track, his solution to the weak bass performance was to simply bury it in an avalanche of syrupy strings and choral voices. Interestingly enough, at the same time that Phil was doing orchestral overdubs, McCartney was in a studio down the hall putting the finishing touches on his self titled debut solo album. Had anyone cared to ask, McCartney could have re-recorded the bass part. Ringo came in around that time to do some tracking of percussion with Phil, though relations in the Beatles camp were poisonous at that point with Paul very close to making the announcement that he was leaving the group. He would also unsuccessfully try to block this version of the song for release. Despite Spector’s augmentation, the song would be the last Beatle single and another number one.

This was all about a year and change away from the original sessions.



Glyn Johns was first tasked with assembling a listenable album out of the hours of tape that were produced by the group. John and Paul reportedly pointed to the endless reels that had piled up and pretty much said, “There they are, go to it.” Working with instructions to maintain the “live with no overdubs” edict, he assembled the first mix of Get Back and submitted it for the band’s approval.

Lennon: "The tape ended up like the bootleg version. We didn’t want to know about it anymore, so we just left it to Glyn Johns and said, ‘Here, mix it.’That was the first time since the first album that we didn’t want to have anything to do with it. None of us could be bothered going in. Nobody called anybody about it, and the tapes were left there. Glyn Johns did it. We got an acetate in the mail and we called each other and said, “What do you think?” We were going to let it out in really shitty condition. I didn’t care. I thought it was good to let it out and show people what had happened to us, we can’t get it together; we don’t play together any more; you know, leave us alone. The bootleg version is what it was like, and everyone was probably thinking they’re not going to work on it. There were 29 hours of tape, so much that it was like a movie. Twenty takes of everything, because we were rehearsing and taking everything. Nobody could face looking at it."

It’s not hard to see why they balked at releasing it in this form. I have a vinyl bootleg copy of that version and “flat” is the best description of the performances contained therein. Embarrassing, considering the high standard that they had maintained throughout their recording history. Johns did what he could with the material, though what it really needed was editing and re-tracking of parts, which was strictly ruled out, if only for the time being. He prepared a second mix, which again was not deemed fit for public consumption.

In the meantime, months rolled by and the Beatles decided to scrap work on the project in favor of making a new record, titled after the very street on which stood the iconic building where they had spent much of the decade producing music that the entire world would embrace. This would present a dilemma for the quartet as they now had two full length discs in the can. Get Back stayed on the shelf while the accompanying film was being edited.

The sheer volume of songs that were attempted and recorded during this period is staggering. Determined to hear 1969 updates of “Love Me Do” and covers of Dylan tunes plus future Beatle solo songs worked up by the group, I sought out as much bootlegged material as I could find. One of the first half decent ones that I scored was a fair sounding record called Watching Rainbows. It had lo-fi jams of “ All Things Must Pass ”, “Mean Mr. Mustard” and some undeveloped Lennon tunes (“Madman”, “Watching Rainbows”) though it was pretty entertaining overall.

Warning: Some of the selections from these sessions may look great on paper but a lot add up to nothing more than jokey snippets, half assed attempts at things that trail off and a lot of “I don’t know the words, but let’s do this anyway”.

You could assemble a pretty decent compilation of complete and listenable takes without too much effort as the material is much more readily available, thanks to the internet revolution. If you are extremely tenacious and enjoy all of the extended discussion and silliness that comes with working out musical ideas, it’s at your fingertips.



LET IT BE

Decisions were made to upgrade the finished product from television documentary to the big screen and call it “Let It Be”. Having worked with Lennon on his “Instant Karma” single in early 1970, Phil Spector was then asked to take the year old tapes and try to spin straw into gold.

Handing a stripped down, back to basics group of tapes to one of the most notorious over-producers in the business may have seemed like quite a contradictory move, though Spector’s work was pretty decent overall. Only his treatment of “The Long and Winding Road ” and “Across the Universe” come across as bloated missteps. He used the best rooftop takes, did a nice job on “Two of Us” and chopped out the useless ”all I want is you” passages that prefaced the verses in “Dig A Pony”. Phil’s handling of “I Me Mine” was clever as well, extending the song by adding a repeat of the chorus.

In short, he put the best face on the material that he was given. His burying technique on “The Long and Winding Road ”, while overly syrupy, did cover the horrendous bass mistakes, though McCartney was right in his assertion that his work was being tampered with. The Disney choir and kitchen sink augmentation really robbed the song of personality.

Let It Be (the album) was released in May of 1970 in conjunction with the movie. Initially, it hit the stores as a box set with a fantastic 160 page book containing great photos, courtesy of Ethan Russell, and dialogue from the film. It was then slimmed down to a gatefold sleeve (no book) and later issues eliminated the fold out jacket.



The group was officially pronounced dead a month prior to this, though they had really been cold since the completion of Abbey Road.

They should have cleaned up the rooftop concert and put that out in it's entirety.

Hey, where was the film crew when Revolver was being recorded?

Let It Be captures flashes of the spark that pushed this brilliant musical aggregation to unprecedented heights, though their lack of interest in the project ultimately precluded it from being their best work.

Epilogue: Hey, it's 2003. Pack a flashlight, a couple of shovels and follow me.

McCartney’s desire to deal with unfinished business (and settle scores) was one of the main drivers of the Let It Be…Naked project, which frankly happened because George had by this time joined Lennon in the “great beyond”. Paul was now free to have Phil Spector’s work undone, assembling a team to remove the layers of orchestration from the masters and cleverly restore some of the original takes through the magic of Pro Tools editing software. This mainly involved fixing bass parts and cleaning up some of the rough edges ( i.e. welding an exceptional portion of take 23 on to take 54.)

End result?

Quite listenable, though they should have ditched the useless “fly on the wall” disc and included one that was packed with jams, the complete rooftop concert or any number of gems that currently sit in the EMI vaults. Arguably, this is the most documented period of their storied career, so there is much to draw on.

Perhaps now that the box sets have hit the stores, the good people at Apple could get serious about assembling a more palatable version of the Let it Be movie for DVD release, include all of the fun footage and give collectors something of value to spend their hard earned dollars on.

Just a thought.



There's a great bootleg of a radio broadcast of the Get back album, complete with commercials from that time. What was it called and which radio station originally aired the LP?

GELB UNTERSEEBOOT

YELLOW SUBMARINE

Glancing at the cover of this colorful soundtrack LP, you'll notice that the cartoon John Lennon seems to be thoroughly enjoying the Dio concert that he's attending in his mind.

Fifteen years before that band was even formed!

Quite a visionary.

Contractual obligation reared its ugly head once again in the form of a film commitment. This time out, the band would not even have to act naturally. (or talk, as actors voiced their parts) United Artists and King Features produced an animated film based on the perceived image of the lads circa 1967. Yellow Submarine was a huge smash with critics and fans in the summer of 1968 and still holds up as a pretty entertaining flick. The Beatles were only marginally involved in this project, appearing briefly at the end in a short (cheesy) scripted segment.



Their musical contribution was also slight, to say the least, as they dug up three rejected tunes from sessions dating back to spring/summer of ’67. The fourth "new" song, cut at the same time as the “Lady Madonna” single in February 1968, is the highlight. "Hey Bulldog" is an excellent, off the cuff Lennon tune with a cutting solo courtesy of Harrison’s SG. The brooding, bluesy piano /guitar riff and some wild vocal improvisation at the end make this a fun tune to listen to. McCartney's bass lines are first rate.



Georges Harrison and Martin feature prominently on this record, with the whole second side devoted to the orchestrations of the latter. Harrison ’s two tunes don’t amount to much, though I do love the bass work on “Only A Northern Song”, which was rejected for inclusion on Sgt. Pepper. Somewhat cynical in tone, the lyrics reflect the malaise associated with his diminished role within the group during that time. “It’s All Too Much” has a terrific feedback-laden intro and then proceeds to drone on for a while with the over simplistic summations of one who is entranced by the lysergic experience, but doesn’t quite know how to put the whole thing into words. The whimsical and childlike appraisal of the sensory disruption caused by acid seemed to be much more prevalent in the approach of English writers. Syd Barrett's work on "Piper At the Gates of Dawn" is very much in this vein.

Show me that I'm everywhere and get me home for tea

Adding “Yellow Submarine” and “All You Need Is Love” really didn’t amount to anything of value for collectors, although the stereo master for John’s anthem was used here instead of the poor, “electronically reprocessed stereo” copy that landed on the US version of Magical Mystery Tour.

Word has it that a five song EP release was originally planned, which would have used the four new songs, plus “Across the Universe”. This actually reached the mastering stage before it was decided to include additional material and release the whole mess as a full length album, with “Universe” scratched from the list.

This project was not something that was taken seriously by the group. When initially informed about it, their response was to file any garbage that they recorded and set it aside for the soundtrack.

Mission accomplished.

Curiously, the late 90s saw a major reconstruction of all of the Beatle tracks that were originally featured in the movie. The work involved both remixing and remastering these tunes, ditching the George Martin instrumentals and putting out a new CD (Yellow Submarine" Songtrack") that would serve a s a compliment to the refurbished digital re-release of the movie.



Time well spent.

There are two distinct differences between the original US and UK issues and their corresponding album cover art. What are they? Did this LP hit number one?

A DOLL'S HOUSE

THE BEATLES (aka The White Album)

Fall of 1968 was an incredibly fortunate time for rock fans, with major releases from the Stones, Kinks and Jimi Hendrix. One of the most anticipated discs of that year came from The Beatles. It was the first full length album issued by the group since Sgt. Pepper and expectations were high.

They did not disappoint.



Released five years to the day after With the Beatles, the White Album finds the group making a concentrated effort to revive their ensemble playing skills. Augmentation was present, as well as painstaking hours of overdubbing and building tracks, though the production was scaled back in comparison to the extravaganzas of the previous year. Many believe that this 94 minute blow out is their finest hour, though it slots into second place behind Revolver in my rating system.

Subjectivity in ranking aside, it’s a fantastic collection of music that covers an ambitious range of styles.

No thematic unity is present here at all, though the sequencing of this patchy group of compositions provides the illusion of continuity. John and Paul, with George Martin, did a twenty four hour marathon, staying up and pouring over these tracks to achieve what they considered to be an acceptable running order. The end result was stellar, making it tough to imagine them queued any other way.

Double LPs were an anomaly in the rock world at that time. Eager to fulfill their EMI contract faster they pushed ahead with plans to record everything that they wrote while in Rishikesh, while adding new songs in the process.

Retreating to the Maharishi's Himalayan ashram did wonders for their creativity as they detoured away from LSD for that period, cleared their heads and wrote nearly thirty new songs amongst them. (Even Ringo came up with a tune!) With just their acoustic guitars and a stash of pot for a regular evening joint or two, the songcraft that was missing in the interregnum following Pepper returned with greater clarity.

Imagine the worth of 30 new songs by the Beatles in their creative prime.

For those that have listened to this LP a lot, you will notice a few clouds dotting the horizon as you settle into the first few selections. Steadily darkening, long shadows pass overhead that culminate in a full blown storm toward the end. Side four, in particular, creates a feeling of palpable tension, leading up to the free form chaos of "Revolution 9". In the midst of the tumult, the sky unexpectedly clears, soothing strings from an old Hollywood movie fill the room and the unmistakable voice of Richard Starkey warbles “Good Night”. Had they called it quits after this, it would have made a brilliant end to their recording career.

Tensions ran high during the sessions, with even good-natured Ringo quitting for a short period. Fighting is an inevitable component of being in a band and relations that were already tenuous began to further deteriorate. Lennon, snapped out of his acid reverie, set out to deliberately provoke his mates by bringing his new girlfriend into the studio.

She didn't leave.

Harrison was frustrated with his role as an "economy class Beatle" and the dominance of the Lennon/McCartney songs. Further to that, McCartney had very distinct ideas about what his finished product should sound like (and always had) and drove the others to distraction with his instructions on how to play their parts.

That long fuse attached to the powder keg was now lit and burning away toward the inevitable.

One of the happier episodes of this stretch was the trailer to the White Album, "Hey Jude" released with "Revolution" as it's flip side. Written for Julian Lennon in the wake of his parents split, it is one of the best things McCartney has ever done. The astounding nine weeks that it spent at the top of the charts was a testament to its melodic strength.

Prior to the commencement of proper studio work at Abbey Road, they convened at George Harrison's place in Esher to tape loose arrangements of their new songs. Listening to these demos is quite interesting, as it is essentially "The White Album Unplugged". There are also a few that didn't make the final cut ( "Circles", "Not Guilty", "Sour Milk Sea", "Junk" , "Child of Nature" and "What's the New Mary Jane?") which are definitely worth hearing. The atmosphere is light with mainly acoustic guitars providing the accompaniment.

Certainly sounds as if they had more fun doing this than the real thing.

Starting off strong was a tradition that was kept up with every release and “Back in the USSR ” signals a return from the cosmos back to good old fashioned rock and roll. Mixing Chuck Berry with the Beach Boys, McCartney weaves a clever lyric about the pleasures of being back behind the Iron Curtain. Considering that the former Soviet Union was still a closed shop and that the Cold War had drawn a firm line between democratic and totalitarian institutions, this tune must have completely confounded listeners. Keep in mind that there were spokesmen for the religious right in the US who actually believed that the Beatles were tools of communist propagandists, whose goal was to infiltrate the very corruptible minds of young people and turn them against the ideological tenants of democratic structure.

Interpretation of their work now became a matter of course as besotted, drug addled followers combed every inch of their record covers and lyrics, while at the same time listening for any revelatory “messages” buried in the music.

Have you ever seen the film “Imagine”? There’s a poignant scene that captures a deluded fan at the door of Lennon’s mansion in Tittenhurst. The poor guy obviously came a long way to hear his idol deliver some bad news:

There are no personal messages to anyone in any of these songs. It’s just words and music.

It’s a shame that Lennon wasn’t able to impart this information to Charlie Manson.

Manson believed that the songs on the White Album were a transatlantic memo to him, containing instructions to commit murder, make it look like it was racially motivated and trigger a revolution in the US where a race war would ensue. He envisioned this whole scenario as “Helter Skelter”. Out of the chaos and carnage, Manson and his “family” would emerge from their hideout in the desert to take control over whatever remained standing.

You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

There was a much more down to earth reason for the senseless killing committed by Charlie’s zombie clan. He was an aspiring singer-songwriter, trying to secure a record deal via his connection to Beach Boy Dennis Wilson. Producer Terry Melcher was tapped to meet him, heard his material, felt an understandably bad vibe emanating from the career-criminal and bailed.

The sad part of the story is that Charlie knew where he lived and the first place that Manson drove his screwed up minions with orders to kill was Melcher’s address. He wasn’t home, though Sharon Tate and other guests at a dinner party being held at the residence were.

Neil Young summed it all up: “The guy doesn’t get a record deal, so he starts wipin’ people out. Dig that.”

Less dangerous fanatics were disappointed that the group had abandoned them on their sunny hallucinogenic trip this time around. The blank cover was then taken as an extreme about face and created another conspiratorial thread amongst followers as to what signals the group was sending out. Some opined that this was a reflection of the "back to the roots" movement that was steering rock music down to earth again, with the Beatles leading the charge.

Wrong.

Don’t follow leaders.

It was Richard Hamilton who conceived the notion of a blank cover. “Since Sgt. Pepper was so over the top,” he told McCartney, “I would be inclined to do a … plain white album.” Each copy could be numbered, he suggested, “to create the ironic situation of [an individually] numbered edition of something like five million copies.” The band’s name would be blind-stamped, white on white, onto the front cover, while an eponymous title would complete the minimalist feel.

Prior to taking up Hamilton's suggestion, "A Doll's House" was the tentative LP title with two alternate ideas in the running for cover art.





The blank cover was viewed as an extension of their sense of humor as well. Pranks played an integral part in much of what they created, though some of the the jokes here are tinged with bitter contempt. "Glass Onion" was designed specifically for that special group of listeners who look for things that aren't there. Having a laugh on the "nutters" as Lennon referred to them, he takes special care to name check a handful of recent Beatle songs, makes reference to a fairly decrepit stretch of the Mersey Banks at the south end of Liverpool where refuse from the sewers would wash up (the Cast Iron Shore) and lets everyone know who the Walrus was. Yanking the collective chains of record buyers may not have been the best move, considering how seriously people were taking their every utterance. It is a purposefully ugly song, with a great clipped, distorted rhythm guitar. I love the bass work in this one as well as the dreary string parts that drift in toward the end of the verses.

Few discs (of that time) have a dirtier guitar sound than this one.

When evaluating this record, it's easier to group the material in terms of what the main song writers had to say. Lennon seems to be all over the map, though quite inspired. "Happiness Is A Warm Gun" really gave everyone a chance to get back in the same room and play together, as did "Yer Blues", which features an unusually sloppy edit right after the solo (that dead cut right to a drum fill and back to the verse to fade). Rising to the challenge, despite the amount of takes needed to nail them ("Happiness" was finally ready after a reported 95 attempts) , the group soldiered on through the large stockpile of tunes. While joke songs like "Piggies" and "Rocky Raccoon" may not have seen the light of day before, they were now allowed on board due to the scope of the project. Unlike the out of focus sludge that they indulged in during the latter part of 1967, these numbers contained wit and while not quite top shelf, they certainly were entertaining.

McCartney played his lyrical cards quite close to the vest, turning in an array of very melodic ("Martha My Dear", "Blackbird", "I Will", "Mother Nature's Son") heavy ("Back in the USSR" , "Helter Skelter", "Birthday") and lightweight ("Honey Pie"," Ob-La -Di Ob -La- Da") music that revealed nothing of himself. He played everything but the brass and string parts on "Martha My Dear", and all but the drums on his cock rocking "Why Don't We Do It In the Road?".

"Helter Skelter" is four minutes of pure noise, with everyone thrashing their respective instruments, prefiguring the heavier fare that was the next logical step in rock's rapid evolution. The blueprint for Led Zeppelin had been drawn up by the high profile power trios (The Who, Cream, Jimi Hendrix Experience, Jeff Beck Group) that now came to prominence. The Beatles were not suited for this style, though in an apparent effort to produce something nastier than the Who, McCartney pushed everyone to rattle the studio walls. One version went on for 27 minutes. Indeed, it is Ringo, who complains loudly about the "blisters on his fingers" from windmilling endlessly around the kit, thus providing another entry into the patois of their followers.

Depending on who you talk to, this is either a pointless mess or a shit-kicking rock song. Opinions differ, though it's amazing that this insanity came from the same four guys who recorded "I Want to Hold Your Hand".

Pity that someone didn't tell Manson the "genius" that the song title was the namesake of a spiral slide, particular to British Funfairs. Maybe he would have just taken the Family to the park and then for ice cream afterward.

Harrison's finest moment on The Beatles is "Long Long Long". Far more imaginative than some of his other attempts to express his passion for spirituality and to embrace his creator, the music oscillates between deep silence and crescendos of drum fills and raised voices. McCartney adds very tasteful, solemn organ fills throughout. Simply stated and beautiful in execution, it is a succinct message of love to someone who had been there all his life, undiscovered, until recently.

God.

Speaking of which, George also brought Eric Clapton in to fire off a few salvos from his cherry red Gibson to add extra weight to the lumbering "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". It is a good song, with one of those chord progressions that every rock band has pulled out of the hat and played for an extra twenty minutes to allow their lead guitarist all of the wanking room that anyone could possibly hope for. It never quite leaves the ground, though it begins with great promise. His acoustic performance of this one beats the album rendition with a stick.

Despite some comedy relief that shows up in places, there is an ominous cloud that hangs over much of what is presented here. Whether this was intentional or not really doesn't matter. Side one begins upbeat and ends with three songs that centre around sadness, killing and guns. Side three is a musical test case in bipolar mood swings from the party atmosphere of "Birthday" to the dirty, sweating and suicidal confessional that is "Yer Blues". Out of nowhere, comes the soft landing pad in "Mother Nature's Son" a paean to the pastoral pleasures of life.

The mono version of the White Album is of particular interest to those who are only familiar with the stereo mix. “Helter Skelter” is very different, with an alternate drum flourish after the break down toward the finish and no trick ending. “Don’t Pass Me By” in mono also sounds much changed from its stereo cousin. Contemporary listeners will have a lot of fun going back and forth between the tracks with the re-release of the catalogue in both formats.

Some of the best moments here come with the understated, acoustic based fare. Lennon improved his finger picking skills, courtesy of the tutelage of one Donovan Leitch while they were in India together. “Julia” was the result of these newfound techniques and is a heartfelt, honest statement of love, addressed to both the mother he had lost and his new partner, Yoko. (she is named in the lyric as Ocean Child). McCartney played producer as Lennon ran through his guitar part numerous times to get it down.

Similarly, McCartney’s “I Will” features tricky changes and some deft riffs that had to be tracked several times over as the close-miked acoustic guitars revealed every nuance (and conversely, any slight mistake). Sitting next to one another, they reveal the different dynamic that John and Paul brought to their craft in a bare bones format.

That divide between the thought process of the two men had always existed, though by now had widened to the point where they became openly critical of each other’s music. Lennon hated the jaunty, reggae inflected “Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da”, while McCartney had serious reservations about Lennon making any overt political comment within the lyric of “Revolution”.

1968 was rife with demonstrations, riots and social unrest, with some American cities literally in flames. Student rallies in Paris culminated in violence, the insanity continued to escalate in Vietnam , eastern Europe and for a time it seemed that societies were coming unhinged.

“Revolution” had it’s genesis in the peaceful Himalayas , far from any hint of the chaos that was taking hold in many areas of the world at that time. Lennon apparently had some anxiety about which side of the fence to plant his ideological feet, counting himself both as “out” and “in” (on the LP only as the faster, heavier single version counts him “out”) for seeking change through violent means. Wonderfully immediate and packing an overdriven wallop, the one that ended up on the B-side to “Hey Jude” carries the most weight. It also succeeds in conveying Lennon’s first instinct about using peaceful methods to achieve the goals of existing movements that were at odds with the inflexible machinery of institution.

The album track of the song is slow, augmented by horns and “shoo-be-doo-wah” backing vocals and was edited to four minutes from its original sprawl.

Robbed of its original context, this great message was torn apart and sold off to Nike for use in a late eighties ad campaign, reduced to a disgusting display of crass commercial interest.

So it turns out that the revolution was televised after all.

Much of what was trimmed off the official LP recording was used to form the basis for “Revolution 9”, a sound collage which has had equal amounts of scorn and praise heaped on it over time. I have read full attempts to break this piece down into sections and analyze it, with one in particular being a very enjoyable dissection. One thing that separates it from other experiments of its kind is that millions of people bought it within a week of its release, smuggled into households within the proverbial Trojan Horse that was the latest Beatles disc.

What does it mean?

You tell me.

What it did provide was a perfect storm to compliment the spooky vibe that is present throughout this magnificent beast of an album. Side four grows especially creepy as the needle steadily progresses toward the run out groove, with a dour song about gorging on chocolate and losing all your teeth in the bargain (“Savoy Truffle”) leading into an unsettling, mock lullaby (“Cry Baby Cry”) that borrows a “Sing a Song of Sixpence” theme, employs a séance and has a dreary, dissonant musical feel. Ending on a question mark, Paul takes up the dark tone with a snippet of a longer improvised acoustic piece.

Can you take me back where I came from, brother can you take me back?

The implication of this well placed bit suggests that the author knew what was coming next and wasn’t keen about moving toward it.

It was too late.

Negative circumstances that surrounded the five months of work that went into this project pushed several members of the creative team to their limit. Tired of the constant arguments, Geoff Emerick walked out mid-way through. Tape operators and engineers recall vicious battles amongst group members, with many work stoppages. More often and not, they were told to go on break while heated discussions took place. One such incident saw George Martin making a polite suggestion to McCartney regarding his phrasing of a line, which drew a “why don’t you come down here and fucking sing it, then?” in response. Usually unflappable, Martin was absent for a stretch because of the hostility factor, leaving the director’s chair to fresh face Chris Thomas. (later to produce a variety of big ticket acts including the Pretenders)

At times, there were several studios running concurrently to meet the demands of the three song writers, who chose to work separately on their tracks after merely employing the others to back them up. Lennon would later say that "we really broke up during this period and it was now just me and a backing group, Paul and a backing group, etc."

The close knit gang that had clawed their way out of playing dives to become world famous now could scarcely stand to be in the same room together.

Rock aficionados have long pondered about what the White Album would have featured had it been trimmed of its fat content. George Martin certainly was in this camp, though the group was not receptive to this plan of action. I do have my personal favorites (“I’m So Tired” stands out), of which rank among some of their very best. Throwing the songs into a digital format gives those listeners with a short attention span the ability to program their own set, unencumbered by the task of lifting the needle from the vinyl to skip cuts.

Viewed from the prospective of those that actually made the record, it really should be taken as it is. It is an eclectic listening experience, serving as a testament to the power of continuous creativity that would be theirs no more after this Herculean effort. They really should have ended the game right here, but instead chose to embark on a project that would drain everyone of their patience and bring their confrontations into the public arena.

The Boys from Liverpool were about to enter into their final act.

Who plays drums on "Back in the USSR" and "Dear Prudence"? What songs were cut from the final running order of the LP? What was "Sexy Sadie" originally titled?

TRAGICAL MISERY TOUR

MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR

When John, Paul, George and Ringo fastened their Santa beards and crept down the chimney pots of their British listeners in December of 1967, they deposited a large hunk of coal called "Magical Mystery Tour" into carefully hung stockings. This six song, seven inch EP, which featured a 24 page booklet, was ill-starred (except for the cover, where you'll find a shit load of them) half-baked (unlike the band members at this juncture) and quite a let down following Pepper.

Disclaimer: If you're a super fan and believe that every note that these guys recorded was brilliant, you may want to stop reading now.

Splendid! For the rest of you, our story begins on page 7 or 8.

Out of the featured soundtrack songs designed for the Mystery Tour, only two come up to the usual high standard set by the group. Worthy of only passing mention, the others fall well below the mark. Let's rip off that band-aid quickly, so that we may continue on a more positive note.

THE BAD

“Magical Mystery Tour” : Works well as an introduction to the movie, but is fairly pointless out of context. The outro bit in the fade should have been developed into something more substantial as it is light years more inspired than the "forced" fanfare that precedes it. Recorded at the tail end of the Sgt. Pepper sessions.

“Flying” : The unedited version, which runs for nearly ten minutes is worth at least one run through. It evolved out of Lennon's extended mellotron experiments. He would get stoned and come up with pleasing sounds. Inoffensive, it performs it’s function as accompaniment to that spectacular aerial footage in the film, though it has little value otherwise.

“Blue Jay Way" : Pleeeeeeeze don’t beeeeeee long.

Too late.

“Your Mother Should Know” – Why stop with mom? Everyone should be warned, just to be safe.

Before we get to the obvious stand out tracks, it must be stated that there are underlying reasons for the paucity of solid material found here. One contributing factor to this uncharacteristic sloppiness was the fact that they were not getting together and playing as a group. Over indulgence in psychedelic drugs played a large role in the loss of critical decision making when it came to what was deemed fit for public consumption. Pot and acid slow the mind down and from this perspective, much of what is actually quite ordinary can seem fascinating. Lennon was dosing himself regularly, headed down a very dangerous path toward mental dissolution. He was very fortunate to be possessed of a strong mind and self-righting mechanism. Most people would have permanently blasted off to another dimension, giggling all the way.

Some did.

Acid casualties were par for the course at this point, many becoming totally unhinged by the drug. Syd Barrett would flame out after completing one spectacular LP with Pink Floyd,. Skip Spence, the driving force behind Moby Grape, got behind some bad LSD and tried to kill one of his band mates with an axe. Following incarceration in a psychiatric ward, he never returned to any semblance of normalcy.

Suffice to say that the merry, communal feeling experienced by the group while under a lysergic spell led to haphazard decisions. Brian Epstein, the guiding hand that they had depended upon to make the trains run on time was in sorry shape. His personal decline and pharmaceutical habits culminated in his accidental death at the tender age of 32. His passing shook the group to the core and their return to business shortly after was bound to be clouded by grief and shock.

Consequently, the rush to occupy themselves by making an offbeat, do it yourself type film with a few musical interludes
would yield mixed results. Oddly enough, I actually like the movie quite a bit. When viewed in the right state of mind, parts of it are quite funny (sometimes unintentionally) and certain scenes prefigure the silliness that would fuel Monty Python's Flying Circus. The music works a bit better when married to the corresponding colorful segments, though it's still paper thin when compared to the rest of their sparkling output.

THE GREAT

Two truly excellent songs were along for the ride on the "Mystery Tour". Paul wrote "Fool on the Hill" back in the spring of '67, and demoed it that September, prior to the proper recording, with some noticeable gaps in the lyrics. Transitioning between D 6th and D minor, the melody is engaging, augmented by flutes and a recorder. Instantly accessible, the delicate arrangement is as subtle as sunrise, breaking out only during the instrumental sections. Employing a literary device that has been the cornerstone of many classics, McCartney's "fool" is perpetually misunderstood and much wiser than the people who pass judgement upon him. Typical of his style, the universal theme is open ended enough to take on any number of interpretations.

What does it mean?

Intrepid souls began to more frequently ask this question with respect to rock music in the late sixties. Dylan's transition toward more oblique and surreal wordplay in 1965 sent many scrambling to rummage through his garbage, intent on cracking the "code" that he'd carefully constructed within his lyrics. Lennon and the others appreciated such jokes and soon began to write in a similar pseudo cryptic fashion.

Upon reading a letter from a boy at his old grammar school (Quarry Bank) who said that they were dissecting Beatle songs in English class, he felt a pang of hostility that arose from having the same head masters write him off as a talentless disrupter while he was a student there.

Inspired by hearing a police siren (the two note UK version) while poking around on piano, he began to form what would become of his most bizarre (but brilliant) compositions. "I Am the Walrus" was lyrically constructed by placing a sheet of paper in a typewriter and adding random lines whenever the mood struck. Childhood friend Pete Shotton was tripping with him one evening and they hit upon an old rhyme that they would recite as school boys. "Yellow matter custard, green slop pie/all mixed together witha dead dog's eye"

"Let the fuckers work that one out, Pete," snapped Lennon as he modified the line and quickly added it.

Be warned, though. If you have listened to these lyrics in the past and merely dismissed them as nonsense, you are in for a surprise. The range of inside jokes and references piled into the scattershot wordplay is pretty impressive. All apologies to those who don tin foil helmets, as there are no messages about dead band mates (Paul), the meaning of life or any memos directed to you personally.

I’m watching you, though.

Now that we’ve scared that crowd off, let’s find out what Mr. Lennon was really going on about.

The Walrus begins with a gentle restatement of the philosophy that all in nature is somehow interconnected.(I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together). Genuinely interested in Harrison ’s increasing immersion in East Indian music and culture, Lennon shared an affinity with his attempt to find alternative spiritual avenues. Similar empathic expression runs through the work of Roger Waters, the best example being found in the opening passages of “Echoes” (Strangers passing in the street /By chance two separate glances meet/And I am you and what I see is me). Psychedelics bring the sensation of interaction with every molecule to the enlightened mind, which is why most people are profoundly changed by their experiences with the drug.

Disclaimer: This is entirely dependent on what intellectual level the prospective user is on before introducing another chemical to their brain. Even then, there are no guarantees of a revelatory, thought provoking trip.

I digress.

Despite the warm introduction, the author takes the opportunity to use this remarkable piece as a vehicle for an extremely vitriolic rant against all of the institutions that he had grown up within and had come to resent. Great Britain’s emphasis on class and social bearing has long been established and how you spoke, your occupation and family history either helped you or kept you in your place. Societal hierarchy is blasted, with shots fired at poet Allen Ginsberg, the Hare Krishna movement, Dylan, intellectual pretension, the educational system, art, culture, the law, religion...Shit, the list is endless.

"Fuck you, England" would have actually been a more apt title.

In addition to very liquid sounding strings, the Mike Sammes Singers add whooping, laughing and chanting throughout. ("Everybody's got one", "Stick it up your jumper"-these lines are teased to sound like "Everybody smoke pot" though these words are not actually sung) The final word comes from a live broadcast of King Lear on BBC's Third Programme. The death scene from the play can be heard crackling in the mix toward the end as it was patched straight into the board during an overdubbing session. If a kitchen sink could have been dropped onto the final master, I'm quite sure that they would have made room.

Lennon in 1980: "The first line was written on one acid trip one weekend. The second line was written on the next acid trip the next weekend... I'd seen Allen Ginsberg and some other people who liked Dylan and Jesus going on about Hare Krishna. It was Ginsberg, in particular, I was referring to. The words "Element'ry penguin" meant that it's näive to just go around chanting Hare Krishna or putting all your faith in one idol.

"It never dawned on me that Lewis Carroll was commenting on the capitalist system. I never went into that bit about what he really meant, like people are doing with the Beatles' work. Later, I went back and looked at it and realized that the walrus was the bad guy in the story and the carpenter was the good guy. I thought, Oh, shit, I picked the wrong guy. I should have said, 'I am the carpenter.' But that wouldn't have been the same, would it?"

I would rank this in the top five out of anything that he'd ever written.

Prior to launching the Mystery Tour on disc in the States, Capitol Records president, Alan Livingston, must have woken from a dream in which he was visited by three ghosts, because the US version actually added music. Featuring all of their 1967 singles, plus the six MMT tunes, it was marketed as a full length album.



So it’s Capitol Records to the rescue! Yay! Giving this time instead of taking, they still bombed the assignment by not using the stereo masters. Cheating, they employed a process termed as “electronically reprocessed stereo” in which certain frequencies are split across the channels (lows on one side, mids and highs on the other) to give the impression of full stereo. Bottom line? It doesn’t sound very good.

The German issue of MMT is in proper stereo.



Reminder: the US MMT album is more or less a compilation deal and was not specifically crafted by the group. The singles were quite good and really helped to prop up the project. "Baby You're a Rich Man" has a great groove, fantastic vocals, exceptional bass work and a positive feel. Recorded in just six hours at Olympic Studios, it hits the spot from a technical standpoint but falls apart as a cohesive song. The verse and chorus don't really work with one another.

An invitation to represent Britain and perform a new song, live, for a program called “Our World” momentarily snapped them to attention. This was to be broadcast worldwide in one of the first satellite transmissions of its kind. Having not played in front of an audience for almost a year, they knew that a great deal of preparation would be involved to avoid a monumental train wreck in front of millions of viewers. When a hard deadline for the “Our World” live satellite broadcast reared its head, they momentarily reverted to type, polishing and preparing a new Lennon tune called “All You Need Is Love”

On the surface, the smattering of music that the group produced in the summer/fall of ’67 seems to represent a bit of a holding operation in the Beatles camp. Having thrown every ounce of energy into the production of Sgt. Pepper, there wasn’t much left in the tank. Under some of the most pressure filled circumstances, the group produced top quality material in a very short period. Given a break from the grind, they were now frittering their time away with 22 minute drum tracks and writing throwaway garbage like “All Together Now”, “It’s All Too Much”, “You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)” and the weak cuts that made it to the Magical Mystery Tour EP. The team that had once carefully sweated over every line and bar in their songs were now turning out the worst kind of lazy, stoned nursery rhymes and getting away with it.

Fortunately, this situation didn't stand.

Stumbling momentarily, the Mystery Tour is a bit of a blight on their wonderful catalog of music. Going into the new year, the main writers would revive their creativity by taking a different kind of trip.



Who was actually in that Walrus costume on the cover? Was the Mystery Tour film screened in the US in 1967?

DR PEPPER

SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND

According to the Python troupe, when we die, we pass into a glorious technicolor paradise where eternity is spent celebrating "Christmas in Heaven". For the Beatles, metaphorical death occurred with the release of Revolver and the decision to stop touring.

Sgt. Pepper represents their rebirth.

Look at the cover. Wax models of the “old Beatles” stand amongst the assembled crowd of faces, almost as if they are ushers at a memorial service. They appear to be paying their respects, yet somehow are eerily attending their own funeral.

Alongside them, in the flesh, a brand new incarnation of the group takes center stage. Proudly holding brass instruments, dressed in loud, bright uniforms, they stand around a logo that identifies them as Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. For the duration of this groundbreaking collection, they take on the guise of this colorful aggregation.

Surely, the meaning wasn’t lost on the quartet when they looked at the final proofs and saw the crowd, the flower arrangements and the word BEATLES carefully spelled out in what looks to be freshly turned, loose dirt. It’s not hard to imagine them staring at Peter Blake’s work through thick a cloud of smoke and smiling at the result.

Metamorphosis.

Strip away all of the pretentious dissections of the LP and the “meaning” behind its conception and you’ll find that it all comes down to one key element:

Lennon: "We have been Beatles as best we ever will be-those four jolly lads. But we're not those people anymore."

Only if the LP had been released at Easter could things have played out any better.

Did they really plan all of this? Not from the larger perspective that some fanatics imagined. The initial goal was to write a collection of songs that touched on their childhood in Liverpool. Each selection would be designed so that it would be impossible to reproduce live. Once completed, the album would be the object that went on a tour of the world as an ambassador for the group, letting the music communicate their ideas to a waiting audience. The "Pepper" character was not yet on the radar.



Before delving into the specifics of the whole “Pepper episode”, as George Martin referred to it, let's revisit the events that led to the creation of one of the most influential discs in rock music.

Transitory periods involving established contemporary artists can sometimes run several years. Generally, a live album or greatest hits package is designed so that contracts may be fulfilled and fans have something to throw their hard earned money at while they wait for the release of new material. Free at last to develop their “masterpiece”, the hiatus begins with an expectation that the next project will surpass all previous efforts. This is true for only a handful of bands these days, though.

In the sixties, there were precious little time that could be wasted without having something in front of the record buying public. If you waited too long, listeners moved on to the “next big thing.”

Consider, for a moment, the staggering output that the Beatles provided to EMI in just four years: Seven albums, each containing 14 songs, 13 singles and countless EPs, one of which ("Long Tall Sally") contained material not found on LP or 45. All except one ("Love Me Do" in the UK) went to number one and sold in the millions.

Imagine the corporate reaction as this seemingly perpetual money and hit making machine decided to down tools and actually take the time to create at their own pace.

The fighting unit that had accomplished so much in such a short time was temporarily disbanded. John’s commitment to a bit part in Richard Lester’s “How I Won the War” was the main cause for the break, although the others took the opportunity to indulge in extra curricular pursuits as well. (Ringo accompanied John to Spain to “hang out” during the movie shoot) Paul and George Martin cooked up music for the soundtrack to a British film called “The Family Way”, while Harrison went to India to study sitar with virtuoso Ravi Shankar.

For the first and only time, they missed having anything on store shelves for the lucrative Christmas buying frenzy. In the UK, EMI released "A Collection of Beatles Oldies (But Goldies!)", which amounted to a "best of" set. The only new song was "Bad Boy" another Larry Williams cover tune that had already been thrown on "Beatles VI" in the US. There was no "Beatles Greatest" equivalent in the States, as Brian Epstein put his foot down with Alan Livingston at Capitol, squashing that plan.




Returning to Abbey Road, the first sessions in November of 1966 were devoted to a Lennon song that would take up an unprecedented amount of studio time and several revisions before it was deemed as satisfactory by its author. (He later expressed a desire to redo it yet again)

John presented “Strawberry Fields Forever” to George Martin and the group by sitting and playing the song acoustically. Martin fell in love with it immediately and cursed himself for not taping that version. Setting to work, several takes were completed before they hit upon an acceptable arrangement. Earlier run throughs began with the verse (“Living is easy with eyes closed”) instead of the “let me take you down” intro that ended up on the final master. Originally envisioned as a “gentle dreaming song”, it is completely futile to even speculate on what the author meant when he was putting this together. Smoking a lot of Spanish dope and sitting on the beach with his guitar, memories of a favorite childhood haunt in Woolton provided the initial inspiration. (Strawberry Field was a Salvation Army Children's Home where he often played. They had even considered posing in Salvation Army uniforms for the LP cover.)

Once all of the ingredients were in place, Lennon listened to it a few times and asked Martin to score it for strings and brass. A drum heavy , orchestrated track was the result of this request. Indecision then dictated the next startling development, as Lennon liked elements of both finished products. He asked Martin to weld the two versions together, despite the fact that they were in completely different keys. When informed of the technical obstacles that made this nearly impossible, he simply replied, “You can fix it, George.”

Miraculously, by speeding up one half and slowing down the other, he was able to make it work. The engineers at Abbey Road prided themselves in the fact that they could edit tape within a quarter of a second with no detectable traces of manipulation present in the end product. Longtime fans know the exact point where Strawberry Fields changes. For those of you that don’t, the edit occurs at the 59 second mark. You'll catch it after the second "let me take you down" in the midst of the word "going". It sounds as if the speed of the recording increases, which it does as the orchestrated track takes over. (Don't blame me if you never hear this in the same way again)

Brilliant and unsettling, the remarkable technical and artistic leap forward continued.

To anyone who is interested, I would recommend checking out the many bootlegs of these sessions that are widely available. I have one that documents every take up to the final master, with an introductory comment by George Martin.



Similarly, "Penny Lane" taps all of the landmarks in a neighborhood well known to Liverpudlians for it's subject matter, albeit with a lysergic twist. Many surreal images go by, with a few inside jokes and sexual references. The hook in the chorus is one of the most uplifting in the entire recorded legacy of the group. McCartney's forte has always been his ability to channel his natural ebullience while marrying it to unforgettable melodies. "Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes" not only scans well but sums up a number of emotions in one line. McCartney apparently hummed the high flying solo to Martin who then wrote out a chart, performed by David Mason of the LSO on a B-flat piccalo trumpet. The recording process was not as drawn out as that of "Strawberry Fields" as McCartney was much more effective in communicating his ideas. Another incredible work of art was now in the can for the upcoming album. Things were starting out rather well.

In January of 1967, reality closed in and Brian Epstein inquired about new material to provide to EMI. The removal of "Penny Lane" and "Strawberry Fields Forever" from inclusion on the Sgt. Pepper album was one of Geroge Martin's greatest regrets. When the 45 was released in February, it was the first Beatle single not to reach number one since "Love Me Do" ("Penny Lane" did hit the top of the charts in the US) Their baby pictures on the sleeve bore out the original concept of childhood memories inspiring the music.



Once again, moving too fast for their public, they made promotional videos to accompany the new sounds.



Fan reaction to the changes was mixed and in some cases quite negative.



Ignorance, as these songs represent two very talented men at their respective songwriting peaks.

Robbed of two key songs for the LP, the idea of revisiting childhood themes was scrapped. Forging ahead with the plan to create music with elaborate augmentation, Lennon presented Paul with a new fragment that he was working on and the two went back to the drawing board.

Paul: 'It was a song that John brought over to me at Cavendish Avenue. It was his original idea. He'd been reading the Daily Mail and brought the newspaper with him to my house. We went upstairs to the music room and started to work on it. He had the first verse, he had the war, and a little bit of the second verse.'

John: "I was reading the paper one day and noticed two stories. I was writing 'A Day In The Life' with the Daily Mail propped in front of me on the piano. One was about the Guinness heir (Tara Browne) who killed himself in a car. That was the main headline story. He died in London in a car crash. On the next page was a story about four thousand potholes in the streets of Blackburn, Lancashire, that needed to be filled."



One of their most ingenious collaborative efforts took some time to come together, though right from the earliest attempts, Lennon's vocal sounded incredible. Drenched in tape echo in an effort to achieve the same sound that Elvis had on "Heartbreak Hotel", the final product was light years ahead of the curve. Two twenty-four bar gaps were left in the finished version, with an eye toward filling each with an enormous rush of noise. The segue from this into Paul's "woke up, fell out of bed" middle section was inspired. Ringo turns in an incredible performance, providing great feel in every fill. It almost amounts to a duet with the vocal in the verses. When it came time to fill the spaces, dutifully counted off by road manager Mal Evans, they settled on hiring 45 pieces from the London Symphony Orchestra. The brief was written out for the players by George Martin, who explained that everyone would be simultaneously be playing from the lowest to the highest note of a charted scale, conducted by McCartney and himself. Two four track machines were slaved together in an attempt to capture this tremendous wave of sound and then overdub it to give the impression of two full orchestras creating a blast wave. Engineer Ron Richards had one hell of a hard time trying to get the machines to run in sync, but the result was one of the most daring experiments carried out in a British recording facility to date. The massive E chord that slams the song shut was played on three separate grand pianos by John, Paul, Ringo, Mal Evans and George Martin.



I'd love to turn you on. Accusing the group of fanning clouds of pot smoke in the direction of their fans, the BBC deemed this fantastic song as unsuitable for airplay.

Again, though it was one of the first things they did for the LP, this incredibly ambitious piece was slotted to close the disc. Really, what choice did they have? Months of tracking would come before any sequencing decisions were made. This is where all the theories about "A Day in the Life" fall apart. Many writers have fallen into the trap of attaching great significance to this song as a destroyer of the happy vibe that runs through Pepper and a modern musical rewrite of "The Waste Land". It was certainly none of the above.

Far and away it does take honors as the best track.

Ultimately, the Pepper motto really boils down to “Any way you like it.” This would work well for a short period, though it would eventually disintegrate into chaos as the drugs began to do them.

Though I sincerely do like the record, I don’t rank it at the top of their discography. First off, their approach to recording radically changed. Only rarely would everyone perform together, eye to eye, when the red light went on in the studio. This meant less spark and spontaneity and many more takes where individuals built instrumental parts in a piecemeal fashion. On the plus side, McCartney overdubbed many of his most inventive bass lines via this method. Conversely, ensemble playing skills eroded as no one had to be particularly switched on to achieve the desired result on the first passes.

Soon, the recording industry would be awash in a “we can fix it later” attitude that would produce many soulless, homogenized albums by artists who would find the perfect balance between tedium and pretension.

Feeding ideas into a communal pool and working with the best ones was pretty much a tacit agreement amongst the group and their inner circle. With pot, pills, cocaine and LSD permeating all decisions made around this time, it was certain that few would be considered too far out to pursue. Paul and Mal Evans first hit upon the name Sgt. Pepper on the plane ride back to the UK following a quick trip to the States. Spotting the S and P stamps on the salt and pepper packets, Mal asked about the initials triggering the whole conversation. McCartney was exposed to a growing number of bands who were adopting outrageous names and seized upon these developments as an ideal way to allow the Beatles to adapt the name of a fictitious group and disconnect themselves from their perceived public image.

Resurrection.

For these very stoned young men in their mid-twenties, humor had a great bonding effect and now it was time to have a laugh on their audience. Pepper is riddled with many inside jokes, though the balance of power was shifting due to matters that didn't quite leave everyone laughing.

McCartney, being a very ambitious lieutenant, saw his partner literally knocking himself out while binging on LSD and created a sense of urgency to push forward with recording, so that their enterprise didn't coast off the rails. Lennon was willing to go along with any suggestion at this point, his usual argumentative disposition softened by constant tripping. George remained indifferent to the whole plan as his interest in being part of the gang was seriously waning. Ringo remained on call, ready to contribute, but his role had diminished. The band wasn’t playing together much at this point. After laying down a bed track, it could be weeks before the others finished piling on additional instruments, leaving him with little to do.

None of this was evident or spoken about publicly at the time. Once they got further into the work and each piece took shape, everyone knew that the finished product would be vastly different than anything they had previously tackled.



The show begins with expectant crowd noise and the sound of an orchestra getting in tune. This atmosphere is shattered by the opening blast of Ringo’s remarkably present kit (with a great, gated snare sound and toms that are quite 3-D for that period). Lead guitar barks as McCartney turns in what is arguably the most rock oriented vocal performance of the set. Decorative French horns glide into the mix with appreciative bursts of laughter and applause fading in and out. Nice three parts hammer home the chorus. Introductions made, the title character hands things over to Billy Shears to deafening screams (sampled from a Hollywood Bowl recording) and a clever transition.

Ringo’s vocal turn (“With a Little Help From My Friends”) is one of the catchiest Lennon-McCartney specials on the disc. Quite a bit of care went into the mix as the bass and drums are especially prominent, with a patented tom fill after the first chorus that is extremely resonant. Starr’s alter-ego (Shears) really digs deep to sing that last, long note. Under Lennon’s original title, “Bad Finger Boogie”, the tune was knocked around by himself and Paul during a casual song writing session, attended by author Hunter Davies, who wrote a detailed account of the pair at work for inclusion in his book. Had any singles been picked for release from Pepper, this would have been an obvious choice.

Great lengths were taken to experiment. Clunky high hats, reversed cymbal sounds, overdriven instruments creating signal distortion, strings, brass and a host of other auditory oddities make up the dense soundscape found here. Tape operator Jerry Boys would later say that they achieved sounds that are impossible to reproduce even with today’s technology. Working within the limitations of a four track environment actually led to further innovation, as creative solutions were required at every turn to meet the growing sonic demands of the three songwriters. It’s a wonder that the board didn’t catch fire at times as Geoff Emerick and Richard Lush coaxed increasingly bizarre sounds out of it.

More importantly, aside from intending to produce music of a very high quality, it was also programmed specifically to be easy on the central nervous systems of very stoned listeners. The harsh, biting sound of Revolver now gave way to dreamier textures. Compare the stabbing string arrangement of “Eleanor Rigby” to that of the lush “She’s Leaving Home” or the feel of “A Day in the Life” in juxtaposition to “Tomorrow Never Knows”. Stylistically, it was all over the map. Can you think of a more jarring transition than what occurs as “Within You, Without You” closes (with a snippet of laughter) and the clarinet intro of “When I’m Sixty Four” kicks in? The jokes continue with the bizarre ending to “Good Morning, Good Morning” that involves an array of animal noises, set up so that each one you hear has the capability of overtaking and devouring its predecessor.

Until you get to the lone chicken clucking at the end.

Even that moment brims with inspiration as it is cleverly turned into the guitar notes that precede the Sgt. Pepper reprise, during which you hear Lennon say “Bye!” over the count in.



Following a fair amount of effort spent trying to shape George’s “Only a Northern Song”, the apathetic track was rejected for inclusion and following a period of sullen disillusionment, he hired a group of London-based, East Indian musicians and set to work on the beautiful “Within You, Without You”. Much unfair criticism has been lobbed at this one over time, though I think it’s the most successful of his forays into that genre. Listen to the complex timings in the middle instrumental break and you’ll begin to fathom how much thought went into it. You can even hear Harrison softly counting everyone back in when it stops for the shift back to the verse.

McCartney was spending more time behind the board with the production team during these sessions. His desire to hear things back exactly as he had conceived them drove him to perfectionist tactics, which didn’t always sit well with the others. Arguably, without his whip hand, there would have been much less band activity after Pepper. Self-directed, he logged a great deal of work and turned in several excellent songs in addition to those co-written with Lennon. He was by far the group’s most adept all rounder, overdubbing a number of other instruments with a natural ease.

"Getting Better", Fixing a Hole" and "Lovely Rita" all bear his composing stamp, the last being a great example of the "comedy song" theme he had half-jokingly mentioned pursuing in an interview the previous year. Receiving a ticket from a traffic warden named Meta, he was quite annoyed, though in the lyric, he embraced the spirit of the age and figured that it was better to love her. The comb and paper effects and the echoed, improvised vocal noises in the outro just add to the surreal nature of the whole project. There's almost another song in this cool piano driven fragment.



Lennon’s contributions were all born out of mundane situations. “Smoking pot and watching telly” inspired a few brainwaves ("Good Morning, Good Morning" was the main thrust for an advert featuring his favorite breakfast snack, Kelloggs Corn Flakes) though it was his son Julian's painting that gave birth to "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds". Lewis Carroll and a host of studio tricks helped with the rest. I find that this one sounds like it was rushed and the transition from the verse to the chorus doesn't really work that well. Still a great tune (the bass lines make it), though the jump to 4/4 time spoils a good set up.

"Mr. Kite" had lyrics that were copied almost verbatim from a Victorian era circus poster that he had picked up while filming the spots for "Strawberry Fields" and "Penny Lane" in Kent. Tons of work went into creating the fairground atmosphere that Lennon asked to achieve from a sonic perspective. George Martin collected tapes of steam and pipe organs, chopped them up and had them pieced back together at random. The loops are extremely spacey when heard in headphones. Apparently, Martin collapsed on the studio floor in exhaustion after repeatedly hand pumping a harmonium through endless takes. Shifting to 5/4 time for Henry the Horse's waltz is an arranging masterstroke. John disavowed this one in the early 70s, though before his death he had one of his customary changes of heart, stating that it was, "pure, like a painting, a pure watercolor."

Subjectively, I would count “She’s Leaving Home”, “Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” and “Within You, Without You” as being the most inventive tunes on the LP, with “A Day in the Life” (of course) towering over the rest. The material is quite good, though the real brilliance was in sequencing a clutch of disparate tracks that bear no resemblance to one another. Seamless work on the part of the entire production team had DJs actually playing the record in its entirety when it first came out, flipping it over as if it were a two minute single.

The cast of characters selected to appear on this iconic cover were suggested by John, Paul, George and designer Peter Blake. McCartney offhandedly told EMI president Sir Joe Lockwood that he would contact everyone (living) to get their OK for inclusion and indemnify the company against any lawsuits. He didn't trouble himself to do either and no one sued.

Fate.

Let's put names to the faces.



Top Row: Sri Yukteswar Giri (guru) / Aleister Crowley (astrologist) / Mae West (actress) / Lenny Bruce (comedian) / Karlheinz Stockhausen (composer) / W.C. Fields (comedian) / Carl Gustav Jung (psychologist) / Edgar Allen Poe (writer) / Fred Astaire (actor) / Richard Merkin (artist) / The Varga Girl / Huntz Hall (actor) / Simon Rodia (creator of Watts Towers) / Bob Dylan (musician)

Row 2: Aubrey Beardsley (illustrator) / Sir Robert Peel / Aldous Huxley (writer) / Dylan Thomas (poet) / Terry Southern (writer) / Dion (singer) / Tony Curtis (actor) / Wallace Berman (artist) / Tommy Handley (comedian) / Marilyn Monroe (actress) / William Burroughs (writer) / Sri Mahavatara Babaji (guru) / Stan Laurel (comedian) / Richard Lindner (artist) / Oliver Hardy (comedian) / Karl Marx (philosopher, socialist) / H.G. Wells (writer) / Sri Paramahansa Yagananda (guru) / wax hairdresser's dummy

row 3: Stuart Sutcliff (former Beatle) / wax hairdresser's dummy / Max Miller (comedian) / "The Petty Girl" / Marlon Brando (actor) / Tom Mix (actor) / Oscar Wilde (writer) / Tyrone Power (actor) / Larry Bell (artist) / Dr. David Livingstone (missionary, explorer) / Johnny Weismuller (swimmer, actor) / Stephen Crane (writer) / Issy Bonn (comedian) / George Bernard Shaw (writer) / H.C. Westermann (sculptor) / Albert Stubbins (soccer player) / Sri Lahiri Mahasaya (guru) / Lewis Carroll (writer) / T.E. Lawrence A.K.A. "Lawrence of Arabia" (actor)

Front row: Sonny Liston (boxer) / "The Petty Girl" / wax dummy of George Harrison / wax dummy of John Lennon / Shirley Temple (actress) / wax dummy of Ringo Starr / wax dummy of Paul McCartney / Albert Einstein (physicist) / John Lennon / Ringo Starr / Paul McCartney / George Harrison / Bobby Breen (singer) / Marlene Dietrich (actress) / Diana Dors (actress) / Shirley Temple (actress)

Hitler, Jesus and Ghandi were slated to appear but did not for understandably diverse and controversial reasons. Bowery Boys actor Leo Gorcey wanted to get paid and was painted out.

Critics fell over themselves in praise of the record. Years later, most of the very same writers savagely panned it, one calling it a "day-glo tombstone for the hippy era". This wildly misses the point. On one hand, Pepper is as redolent of 1967 and the so-called "Summer of Love" as tie dye, painted faces and flowery, spaced out young people, happily spinning and dancing in their own world. However, if you simply listen to the disc it is not inexorably tied to the trappings of this colorful period. There is no mention of Vietnam, political figures of the time or any other sociological phenomenon that was then current. Imagination fuels every cut, not rhetoric.

Long dissertations have been devoted to the fact that Pepper wasn't truly a concept album. From a lyrical standpoint, there was no attempt made to devise a plot line where Sgt. Pepper loses three of his senses and becomes a pinball playing, messianic figure. Curiously, the name is used only to introduce the proceedings and briefly say goodbye toward the end, which was a suggestion made by road manager Neil Aspinall.

Instead, the concept focused squarely on the band themselves and their assumption of an entirely different look and sound.

Hindsight reveals quite a few “firsts” as the lyrics were printed out on the back cover, bands of silence between songs were eliminated and the presentation was certainly the most elaborate, colorful and expensive that the rock world had ever witnessed. Looking at my own copy, it isn’t too much of a stretch to believe that if they could have had inserted a trigger that produced insane laughter when you opened the gatefold, it would have been attempted. EMI auditors had to move in and put the proverbial foot down as time wore on, with ideas growing more outrageous at every turn. Roughly six months and one hundred thousand English pounds (in 1967 terms) went into making Pepper a reality.

Longtime fans know all of the stories, to be sure, though what has gone down as gospel isn’t even agreed upon by the band members themselves. The passage of time, coupled with the frequent substance intake which virtually permeated that era is primarily responsible. Complicating matters further was the new fanaticism that developed among devotees. Many seekers pored over the densely packed cover (through a cloud of smoke) searching for deeper meanings that they were certain just had to be placed there by their heroes.

Letting their imaginations steal a car amd drive it at high speed off of a cliff, the drug addled and deluded dreamed up a host of outrageous ideas about Sgt. Pepper. Rumors that the moustache featured on the cardboard cut-out insert was impregnated with LSD flew along with many other ridiculous theories. Some even tried to play the centre label in a desperate attempt to find hidden messages. (The gibberish that was deliberately placed as a joke in the run-out groove probably added more fuel to that fire.)

The only real message relayed was that the group had moved far beyond the realm of four wax figures put on display for little girls to scream at.

We're not those people anymore

This is where the Beatles saga crossed over into mythical territory.



Who wrote the charts and arranged the string octet on "She's Leaving Home"? What does that stoned little snippet of chat in the run-out groove say when you play it backward? Who's tripping in the gatefold photo?