Only a Northern Song

You may be surprised to learn that this song was George Harrison's original offering for the album Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.  The other Beatles and the production team certainly were taken aback by what they considered to be a subpar composition for their masterpiece-in-the-works.  From his perspective, Harrison simply did not care.  He had been losing interest in being a Beatle even before they ceased touring in August of 1966.  And he was increasingly upset with the paltry shares that he and Ringo had been allotted in the publishing company Northern Songs Ltd., though admittedly his songwriting output was still well below that of Lennon and McCartney.

While the songs that the Beatles had been working on lately were groundbreaking - Strawberry Fields Forever, Penny Lane, A Day in the Life - George's contributions to them were minimal, and both he and Ringo were beginning to feel as if they were session players rather than vital members of the band, as other production elements became increasingly complex.  In response to his situation, he wrote this composition expressing his ambivalence about his continuing participation in the group.

Everyone gathered on February 13th, 1967 to work on the basic track.  In his book Here, There and Everywhere, engineer Geoff Emerick relates that producer George Martin told him in the control room that he was disappointed that Harrison hadn't come up with something better for them to record.  Nine takes were laid down, with George on Hammond organ, Paul on bass and Ringo on drums.  John was present, but was not compelled to participate.  Of the nine takes, only four were even complete, making it through to the end of the song.  

On February 14th, three reduction mixes (numbered as takes 10, 11 and 12) were made of the best take from the previous day, take three.  George recorded his lead vocal onto take twelve, then double-tracked his vocal, though the lyrics differed significantly from the final version.  Anthology 2 allows us to hear how the basic track sounded at this point, before all of the additional overdubs were recorded (Paul's bass part on this Anthology track is from a later date, however).  The song never made it past this during the Sgt. Pepper sessions.

But it was not entirely forgotten.  Shortly after work on the Sgt. Pepper album was complete, the tapes of Only a Northern Song were retrieved from the EMI vaults for further work on April 20th.  For some reason, the other Beatles were now enthusiastic about working on the track.  Initially ignoring the reduction mixes from February 14th, they first wiped Paul's bass line on take three from February 13th so he could re-record it more to his liking.  They then added numerous overdubs onto this take, including Paul blaring away on a trumpet, John playing piano and glockenspiel, various odd voices from the boys, Ringo on tambourine, etc.

With all four tracks now full, George re-recorded new vocals onto take eleven.  The tricky part came on April 21st, as Martin, Emerick and second engineer Richard Lush made eleven attempts to create a mono mix by syncing up take three and take eleven.  The sixth attempt turned out to be the best.  Given the technology of the time, it was deemed impossible to make a stereo mix under those conditions. 

Soon thereafter, the song was chosen to be part of the soundtrack of the animated film Yellow Submarine.  Luckily, only a mono mix was required by the film's producers.  In late 1968, with a soundtrack album due out (well after the film was shown in theaters), engineers Geoff Emerick and Graham Kirkby created a mock stereo version of the song, by putting most of the treble in one speaker and most bass in the other - a trick that American record companies had been using for years.  The album Yellow Submarine from January of 1969 was only released in stereo in the US, so this is the version most of us know. 

In 1999, the film was reissued for home video, and a new album called the Yellow Submarine Songtrack was created to accompany it.  Studio technology had now advanced to the point that the original tapes were retrieved from the archives and a team of 5 engineers were able to produce a true stereo remix of the song.

In 2009, the box set The Beatles in Mono included a two-disc album called Mono Masters which included the original mono mix from 1967 for the first time ever.  The mono Yellow Submarine album issued in the UK in 1969 had only featured a "folded down" version of the mock stereo mix.  Confusing, no?

For a song that was much-maligned at the start, Only a Northern Song actually works quite well in the film Yellow Submarine.  It is used in what is probably the most psychedelic sequence in the movie, showing tiny versions of the animated Beatles characters flying around pictures of the actual Beatles as a soundwave reacts to the music and bright colors change repeatedly.

One After 909

John Lennon claimed this as one of his earliest compositions from 1957, predating his group the Quarry Men.  That group certainly played the number, even before Paul joined the lineup, and it remained in the act over the next few years as the group frequently changed both its name and its members.  Fans in Hamburg and Liverpool were surely familiar with the song.  Footage exists of the boys playing the number in their smart-looking suits pictured above, and there is a recording of them practicing it with Ringo in the Cavern Club on September 3rd, 1962 - the day before their first session with him as their new drummer at EMI Studios.

On March 5th, 1963, in the first flush of their success, the Beatles reported to the studio to record their third single.  The surefire hit From Me to You and its B-side Thank You Girl were efficiently completed during the afternoon session.  An evening session had also been scheduled, so they decided to work on their oldie The One After 909.  Anthology 1 allows us to hear parts of takes three, four and five from this date, starting with the breakdown of take three because Paul does not have a pick to play his bass.  John then spoils take four by coming in to sing before George has finished his guitar solo, so they begin take five just before the solo.  We then hear an edit of takes four and five, which would have served as the best overall performance.  This is presumably how they had been playing the song all those years, but the tempo is slow and John's singing sounds flat, so the tape was never mixed for release at that time, and it sat on the shelf until the Anthology project in the 1990's.

The Beatles forgot about the song, as well, along with many of their other early compositions - that is, until the Get Back sessions in 1969, when John Lennon found himself short of material for the group's latest venture.  It may actually have been the band's assistant Neil Aspinall who recalled the early rocker and suggested it as being ideal for a project supposedly about the group getting back to their roots.  The 2003 album Let it Be...Naked contains a brief snippet on the Fly on the Wall disc of the boys ending a runthrough of the song in early January at Twickenham Film Studios, then discussing it in enthusiastic terms.  They continued rehearsing it on multiple days in the early part of that month, then returned to it on January 28th at their new Apple Studios in Savile Row, adding Billy Preston on electric piano to the arrangement.

On the following day, the setlist for the next day's rooftop concert was finalized and rehearsed, with One After 909 being among the songs selected.  The Beatles and Billy Preston attack the number with gusto during this famous concert on January 30th.  John and Paul are clearly having a ball singing this blast from their past, while George and Billy add some tasty fills on guitar and electric piano throughout.  The pace is brisk compared to the way the group played the song in years past, and George's guitar solo is far superior to the one(s) he attempted back in 1963.

When producer/engineer Glyn Johns was assigned the task of assembling a Get Back album that spring, he chose this song to open the album, preceded by Billy sliding his fingers down the keyboard, a shout from someone on the film crew and a count-in by John.  This is, in fact, the only song from the rooftop concert that Johns included on that proposed album.  His second attempt at a Get Back album in January of 1970 opened the same way, but both albums were rejected by the band. 

Producer Phil Spector relegated the song to the second spot on side two of the Let it Be album, but it sits there quite well following a fine rooftop performance of I've Got a Feeling, which is actually the same order that the two songs were played on the day.  And, of course, the performance is seen in the film Let it Be, allowing us to witness the Beatles absolutely relishing the moment, as they oh-so-briefly revisit the joys of playing live on their own terms.

Old Brown Shoe

Very late in the Get Back sessions, on January 27th, 1969, George Harrison announced that he had written a new song - a "happy rocker," as he described it - for the band to learn.  Harrison had composed it sitting at a piano, so, after teaching the chords to keyboardist Billy Preston, he had to relearn the song himself on guitar.  Though they rehearsed it over the next three days, this uptempo rocker did not make the cut for that project, along with most of Harrison's other offerings at that time.

On February 25th, his birthday, George went into one of the EMI studios with engineer Ken Scott and made demos of three of the overlooked songs, with Old Brown Shoe being the most elaborate.  He began by recording the song on piano, as he had written it, singing the full lyrics at the same time.  A basic guitar part was then overdubbed, before a second guitar overdub, featuring an early version of the solo, was added to complete the track.  Anthology 3 allows you to hear how most facets of the master version recorded by the Beatles were already in place, including the arpeggios during the bridges. 

Only a few months later, the group was suddenly in need of a song for the B-side of a single, after John and Paul had quickly recorded The Ballad of John and Yoko on April 14th.  All four Beatles gathered on the 16th, but not before George taped yet another demo version of the number to help the others easily learn their parts.  It therefore required only four takes to complete the backing track, with George singing and playing lead guitar, John on rhythm guitar, Paul on tack piano and Ringo on drums.  

Overdubs began with Paul on bass, doubling the fast-paced arpeggios in the bridges which George played on guitar.  John and Paul then threw themselves into the backing vocals with gusto, spending a good deal of time on some of the trickier harmonies.  Finally, George made the curious decision to re-record his lead vocal by sitting in a tight corner of the studio, resulting in the muddied sound that obscures many of his delightful yin/yang lyrics.

George Martin had produced the April 16th session, but Chris Thomas took over the producer's reins on the 18th (though only Martin is credited on the single).  Harrison first overdubbed some additional guitar onto the track on this day, including his impressive solo.  He then decided to add a prominent Hammond organ part, but he needed one of the eight tracks to do so.  Thus, John's rhythm guitar part was wiped from the master tape, thereby limiting his participation on the track to just being a backing vocalist.  Since he declined to work on several of George's other songs in the latter years of the group's career, there is a certain irony in this, especially as he seemed to actually enjoy his involvement on this number.

At John's insistence, the single The Ballad of John and Yoko was released hard on the heels of the group's most recent single, Get Back, which was still high on the charts at the time.  The B-side Old Brown Shoe did not even make the charts as a result.  The song appeared in the US on the Capitol album Hey Jude in February of 1970.  And it was chosen for inclusion on the Blue Album in 1973.  When the band's entire catalog was released on CD, Old Brown Shoe appeared on Past Masters, Volume Two in 1988.  

And, when Eric Clapton successfully persuaded George to make a brief tour of Japan in 1991, the song made the second slot on the setlist.  A live version of the song thus appears on the 1992 album Live in Japan. 

Oh! Darling

Among Paul McCartney's best vocal performances on recordings by the Beatles are such standouts as Hey Jude, Long Tall Sally and I'm Down, but this one might be the absolute best.  Of course, John Lennon, never shy about airing his opinions, thought that he could have sung it better.  And in his book Here, There and Everywhere, even engineer Geoff Emerick, who usually sided with Paul on most matters, agreed that John should have had his chance.  None of that should take away from what we have here - a vocal for the ages.

Like several other numbers that wound up on the Abbey Road album, McCartney originally aired this song at the Get Back sessions in early January 1969 at Twickenham Film Studios.  Though the group worked on the song numerous times over the course of that month, they never got it in good enough shape to make it into the rooftop concert setlist.  Anthology 3 contains a four minute version of the Beatles and Billy Preston rehearsing the number on January 27th.  John sings a harmony line in the verses, and Paul goes into falsetto for the bridges, while Billy plays some nice fills on electric piano throughout.  The feel is laid back compared to the recorded version we all know, and it would have been interesting to see how it turned out if they had continued down this path.

On April 20th, the new arrangement was officially recorded with Chris Thomas sitting in as producer.  The liner notes for the 50th anniversary edition of Abbey Road state that Billy Preston was there on this date and played Hammond organ on some of the twenty-six takes.  The rest of the lineup consisted of Ringo on drums, John on guitar, George on bass and Paul on piano.  This differs from the lineup in The Beatles: Recording Sessions book, where Mark Lewisohn has John on piano, George on guitar and Paul on bass, with no mention of Billy Preston.  Yet the 50th anniversary edition includes take four, and Preston's Hammond can clearly be heard. 

Chris Thomas was once again in the producer's chair when Paul recorded his lead vocal onto take twenty-six on April 26th.  (Most of this session was spent on the backing track of Ringo's Octopus's Garden, covered in my last post.)  As with Ringo's song, Oh! Darling was now considered complete and set aside for possible inclusion on Glyn Johns' Get Back album.     

By July, the group had shifted attention to a new album with full production values, as opposed to the stripped-down Get Back project.  The songs begun in April were now to receive additional attention.  For Paul, that meant getting the perfect lead vocal on this track, something he felt he had not yet achieved.  He began attempting it before the others arrived (he lived nearby and was usually the first at the studio) on July 17th, and did so again on the 18th, the 22nd and the 23rd.  He was seeking a rough quality that he felt he could only get before even getting warmed up.  And he had learned that it was counterproductive to have the others sitting around while he made multiple attempts at a vocal as he had done on Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da the previous year.  He finally nailed it on the 23rd, then double-tracked his vocal in places.

On August 8th, Paul added some guitar and tambourine to the track.  On the 11th, Paul, John and George recorded the backing vocals, possibly wiping out some earlier backing vocals from April 26th sung by just John and George.  For me, these delicate harmonies are at odds with Paul's raucous lead vocal - they sound too clean, too pristine.  A rougher feel overall, more akin to the January 27th runthrough, would have better served the song and transformed it into a true old-fashioned rock and roll number. 

The song precedes Octopus's Garden on side one of Abbey Road, thought the two tracks were reversed in the original running order of the album.  

Octopus's Garden

The second and last composition credited to Richard Starkey and recorded by the Beatles is an absolute joy.  As is often the case, this disguises the less-than-perfect circumstances under which it was written.  Yet the result was a track that all four members of the group truly enjoyed creating in the studio.

My previous post related the trials and tribulations involved in the recording of Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da in July of 1968 during sessions for the "White Album."  The tensions continued to bubble just below the surface as those sessions progressed until things came to a head for Ringo on August 22nd.  On that date, work began on McCartney's song Back in the U.S.S.R., and Paul had a very specific idea in mind about how the drumming should sound.  When Ringo couldn't quite get it and Paul remained insistent about what he wanted, the fellow who was usually the most easygoing member of the group decided that he had had enough and walked out, effectively quitting the Beatles.  (Undeterred, the others completed this song and Dear Prudence in his absence.)

Ringo took his family on holiday to Sardinia and went out on the yacht of actor and comedian Peter Sellers (because, of course, he could), and learned from the captain that octopi like to gather objects to place around their caves.  Inspired by this information, Ringo began writing the song, imagining a happy place beneath the sea away from the stress and strain of the increasingly-unhappy Beatles.

He felt confident enough about his composition to introduce it to his bandmates in early January, 1969, at the Twickenham Film Studios sessions for the Get Back project.  It surfaced once again after those sessions moved to the new Apple Studios at Savile Row later that month.  In the film Let it Be, Ringo is seen at a piano on January 26th with George on acoustic guitar helping him to work out the chords.  Even producer George Martin joined in and lent a hand before John and Paul arrived.  Though not seen in the film, the whole group spent some time working on the song on this date.

They did not return to it, however, until April 26th.  Around this time, it was one of the titles still under consideration for a possible Get Back album.  By now, all of the lyrics were complete and George had worked out a good portion of the arrangement (the two junior members of the firm known as the Beatles would continue to collaborate in this manner over the coming years).  With everyone on their usual instruments, it somehow required thirty-two takes before they arrived at the master, even though take two, which can be heard on Anthology 3, is a reasonably-good runthrough.  Even George's opening guitar passage and the style of his solo are pretty much already in place on this early take.  The greatest takeaway from the tapes of this marathon session is that everyone is in good spirits and all are enjoying themselves.  

Three days later, on April 29th, Ringo recorded his lead vocal.  Perhaps because it was intended for the Get Back album at this time, the only other overdub was a bit of piano played by Paul.  The song was thus remixed and considered ready for release.  But Glyn Johns did not include this or any of the other songs in the works on his proposed Get Back album, which the Beatles rejected at any rate.

By July, it was decided that a new album with full production values would be the group's next release, and it would include the songs which had been started in the spring.  So, on July 17th, the master tape received some additional overdubs.  While John was back from his automobile accident by this time, he was not yet participating on any tracks, thus Paul and George sang the high-pitched backing vocals.  Ringo also wanted some sound effects as on Yellow Submarine, so a microphone was set up to pick up the sound of him blowing bubbles in a glass of water during the guitar solo.  Additionally, the backing vocals were treated to create an underwater effect during this same section.

Several more overdubs were added on the following day, starting with Ringo re-recording his lead vocal.  Additional backing vocals, drums, piano and guitar completed the work on the track.  It sits nicely on side one of the album Abbey Road.  It was so well regarded that it was included on the Blue Album in 1973.  

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

The recording process for this jolly, bouncy, well-loved track unfortunately generated more ill will than perhaps any other track by the Beatles.  And that even takes into account such instances as the sessions for Maxwell's Silver Hammer (when John mostly declined to participate) or Paul's blow-up upon hearing Phil Spector's unauthorized orchestration of The Long and Winding Road. 

The composition was among the many written in Rishikesh, India.  McCartney recalls playing it as a singalong on acoustic guitar while everyone walked down a path through the jungle for a movie night in the local village, though he only had the chorus at the time.  By the time the Beatles gathered at George Harrison's house in May of 1968 to record demos of songs for their next album, the composition was complete.  Paul double-tracked himself singing and playing acoustic guitar, along with some percussion, with the style of the song being much like the first version that the group would officially record.  This demo can be heard on the 50th anniversary releases of the "White Album."

The official recording commenced on July 3rd, with Ringo on drums and all three of the others playing acoustic guitars, re-emphasizing the style of the demo.  Paul then overdubbed his lead vocal onto the final take - take seven - but, in the first of many reversals, he decided that take three had actually been the best.  All further overdubs thus went onto take three on July 4th, including a new lead vocal and backing vocals by John and George.  In this version, they sang the high-pitched "la la la's" in every verse instead of only on the second verse.  Paul then double-tracked his lead vocal, and some percussion was also added.  The deluxe 50th anniversary edition of the album contains the song as it stood at this point.

On July 5th, the third consecutive day spent on the song, three saxophones and a conga player were added to the track.  This conga player just happened to be an acquaintance of Paul's from the London clubs named Jimmy Scott, and it was the Nigerian-born Scott who habitually used the phrase "ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra" which originally inspired the composition.  A piccolo part was also recorded at this session, but it was wiped from the tape and replaced by Paul playing yet another acoustic guitar, only this one was made to sound like a bass by overloading the sound at the mixing desk.

The track, which can be heard on Anthology 3, was now considered to be complete.  Paul took a rough remix home for the weekend, listened to it, and decided that it simply did not capture the Jamaican ska vibe that he had in mind.  So, as the group reassembled on July 8th, no doubt expecting to move on to another song, they were taken aback when Paul announced that he wanted to start a remake.  John exploded and left in a huff, only to return a bit later, shouting that he was high, then going to a piano and declaring, "And this is how the f*#king song should go," before pounding out the introduction we have all come to know.

Though it was born out of anger and frustration, Paul recognized that John was on to something, so he wisely managed to keep his own anger in check.  John remained at the piano for the new basic track, with Paul on bass, George on acoustic guitar and Ringo on drums.  They recorded twelve takes before achieving the master, then spent the remainder of the session overdubbing lead and backing vocals, and additional percussion.  And yet...

...Paul was still unsure.  On the following afternoon, Ringo was attending a session for another artist in Studio Two, so Paul, John and George began a re-remake in Studio Three with Paul on drums.  Two basic takes, numerous overdubs, lead and backing vocals were recorded before Paul realized that the previous day's remake was better.  By the time Ringo joined them in the evening, they were re-recording their lead and backing vocals on that version, including all of the silly interjections from John and George that made it onto the master.  More percussion and handclaps were also overdubbed.

On July 11th, three saxophones played an arrangement somewhat different from that on version one.  And Paul also repeated his trick of playing an overloaded acoustic guitar as on that earlier version.  So the song was now complete, right?

Not so fast.  Paul was still unhappy with his lead vocal.  On July 15th, everyone sat around as he attempted multiple takes with slight variations. seeking a perfection that only he could recognize.  In his book Here, There and Everywhere, engineer Geoff Emerick relates that after one of the many takes, producer George Martin offered a suggestion over the talkback.  Paul stared up at the control room and shot back a nasty retort.  After a stunned silence, the usually-genteel Martin responded with, "Then bloody sing it again!  I give up."

Once tempers cooled, Paul eventually got the performance he wanted, the one on which he accidentally mixed up Molly and Desmond in the final verse.  The damage was done, however.  It was Emerick, not Martin, who had had enough.  When the group returned the next day to begin work on Lennon's Cry Baby Cry, Emerick walked down to the studio floor and told them that he could not work with them anymore.  John made some half-hearted excuses for their behavior, but it would be a full year before Emerick could be coaxed back as a part-time engineer on sessions for the album Abbey Road.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da did prove to be a standout track on the "White Album" when it was released in November of 1968.  Its sunny, seemingly-spontaneous spirit belied the painful and painstaking process of its creation.  There are reports that Paul wanted it out as a single, but John and George were against it, and it turned out that no single was released in conjunction with the double album.  In 1973, the song appeared on the Blue Album.  It did finally get released as a single in 1976 (pictured above), but only peaked at number 49.

Nowhere Man

Unlike a few of the songs highlighted in some of my recent posts, Nowhere Man has never been one of my favorites.  This is not to say that I do not appreciate the significance of the song in the Beatles' catalog, nor the skill that went into its composition and recording.  In fact, a professor who taught a basic music course that I took in college used it as an example, pointing out how the downward spiral of the melody and the almost dirge-like tempo combine to emphasize the theme expressed in the lyrics.  It was no doubt these very qualities that led to my lukewarm reception of it.

While the Beatles were short of new material when they began the sessions for the album Rubber Soul, Lennon appears to have had this one at the ready early on.  After completing Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) during the afternoon session on October 21st, 1965, the boys turned their attention to this song in the evening without even taking a proper break.  This full night's work resulted in only one take (take two - take one was a quick breakdown), featuring some reportedly high-pitched three-part harmonies and just a single electric guitar on the track.

Takes three, four and five were recorded on the following day, with Ringo on drums, Paul playing a very active bass line, and John on acoustic guitar.  All overdubs went onto take four, beginning with John, Paul and George's patented three-part harmonies, supervised as always by producer George Martin.  Once perfected, these were double-tracked.  George then added his electric guitar flourishes throughout the song.  The guitar solo, however, was a different matter.  John sat down with a second electric guitar, and the two of them played it simultaneously, the major difference being the lovely harmonic that George adds at the end of the solo.

The song sits in the middle of side one on the UK version of Rubber Soul, but it does not appear on the American version of that album.  Capitol Records, as always, was looking for an additional single, and, with several strong titles to choose from, opted for Nowhere Man.  It was released in February of 1966, but, unlike the previous Capitol-created singles Eight Days a Week and Yesterday, which both went to number one on the charts, Nowhere Man stalled at number three.   It later appeared on the US compilation album "Yesterday"...and Today in June.  And, in July, it resurfaced in the UK as the title track of an EP.  This proved to be their last official British EP until the Beatles themselves chose to release Magical Mystery Tour as a double EP.  Likewise, the American single was the last that Capitol was allowed to create for several years due to a new agreement hammered out by manager Brian Epstein. 

In 1973, the song appeared on the Red Album.  And, in 1999, it was released on the Yellow Submarine Songtrack.  On this occasion, a remixed version was created, splitting the two sets of three-part harmonies and putting one in each speaker, thus giving the track a fuller, richer sound.

For me, the best use of Nowhere Man is in the animated film Yellow Submarine, when John rather callously sings it about the character of Jeremy Hillary Boob.  The irony, of course, is that Lennon actually wrote the song about himself and how he was feeling in late 1965 in the midst of those heady days of Beatlemania.