Sunday, December 27, 2020

Please Mister Postman

The Beatles were big fans of American girl groups, particularly those that appeared on the Motown label.  Whenever they were searching for new material for their stage act, they had no problem in adapting songs from these groups, simply flipping the pronouns as necessary.  This song by the Marvelettes was Motown's first number one record, a feat achieved in December of 1961.  The Beatles were the first Liverpool group to discover it, quickly learn it and make it their own.

When they appeared on BBC Radio for the very first time in March of 1962 on the program Teenager's Turn - Here We Go, Please Mister Postman was one of three songs they chose for the broadcast.  John, Paul, George and Pete played in front of a live studio audience in Manchester, wearing their new suits for the occasion - another first.  They continued performing the song throughout that year in Liverpool and in Hamburg, but once their recording career began, it was dropped from their act along with most other cover versions of other people's songs, as they tended to feature more and more Lennon/McCartney compositions.

Many of those "oldies" resurfaced, however, as they became regulars on BBC Radio programs.  When they were offered their own series Pop Go the Beatles, they made a concerted effort to treat their fans to the songs they loved from the acts that had influenced them and their sound.  Thus it was that on July 10th, 1963, they revisited this Motown favorite from the previous year.  This performance, available on the release On Air - Live at the BBC Volume 2, is relatively tame compared to the recording they would make only a few weeks later.  It has a four-note descending guitar phrase at the top and a tidy ending, neither of which appear on the official recording.  John is also a bit unfamiliar with some of the lyrics, not having sung the song for several months.

With the song fresh in mind, they reported to the second session for their second album on July 30th.  Initially, they played it as they had on Pop Go the Beatles.  By take seven, the intro was merely a tap on the hi-hat from Ringo, the tempo was brisk, and John was singing with desperation in his voice over strong backing vocals from Paul and George.  Another new touch were two breaks by the band toward the end of the number, adding to the breathless excitement of the track.  The only overdub deemed necessary was for John to double-track his brilliant lead vocal.

Producer George Martin placed Please Mister Postman as the last track on side one of the album With the Beatles.  Capitol Records in the US decided to withhold it along with the group's other Motown covers from Meet the Beatles!, preferring to highlight their self-penned numbers on that album.  Instead, the covers were all included on The Beatles' Second Album released in April of 1964.  Yet, some American fans were already familiar with the recording, because Capitol of Canada had released it as the B-side of the single Roll Over Beethoven back in December of '63, and copies of that single had been available in the US as an import.

Capitol Records in the US belatedly recognized the popularity of the four songs available on Canadian singles (the other single was All My Loving b/w This Boy), and combined them on an EP titled Four by the Beatles, released on May 11th, 1964.  Since all four songs had already appeared on American albums, the EP only hit number ninety-two on the Billboard chart.

Despite the terrific recorded version, the group played the song just a handful of times afterwards, including a mimed performance on the TV show Big Night Out on February 23rd, 1964, only a day after their return from America, and later that same week for their BBC Radio program From Us to You, recorded on February 28th.

Saturday, December 19, 2020

Piggies

The sessions for the double album The Beatles lasted almost five months - from the end of May to late October in 1968.  Thirty four songs were recorded in that time, including five by George Harrison, but he had to wait until the midpoint of those sessions before his bandmates finally turned their attention to one of his compositions.  Ironically, that composition - Not Guilty - did not even make the final cut for the album.

The satirical Piggies was the third Harrisong to be recorded by the Beatles for the "White Album."  It was among the many that the group put on tape at George's house back in May before the official sessions began.  Unlike most of the songs previewed at that time, it had not been written in India.  Harrison claimed that he had written most of it a few years earlier, but left it unfinished and put the lyrics away in a book.

The demo foreshadows the elegant arrangement of the finished recording in the way George plays it on acoustic guitar.  As with most of these demos, the vocals are double-tracked.  Lyrically, the only difference is the phrase "to cut their pork chops" instead of Lennon's suggestion "to eat their bacon."  One other contributor to the lyrics was George's mother Louise, who gave him the line "what they need's a damn good whacking."

September 19th, 1968 was the first official recording session for the song, during the time that producer George Martin was away on holiday and young Chris Thomas served as producer for the Beatles.  With Paul on bass, Ringo on tambourine and George on acoustic guitar, they recorded ten takes of the song in studio two.  While on a break, Chris Thomas noticed a harpsichord set up in studio one and thought it would sound ideal on the track.  The session was moved into that studio, the classically-trained Thomas sat at the keyboard, and take eleven proved to be the keeper.

On September 20th, George overdubbed his lead vocal with occasional double-tracking.  John, who had been present the previous day, finally joined in with Paul and George at the microphone as they recorded harmonies for the final verse.  One other contribution from John was a tape loop of grunting pigs which was dropped into the song, although somewhat differently on the mono and stereo mixes.

When a refreshed George Martin rejoined the sessions and listened to the tracks that had been recorded in his absence, he suggested that Piggies could use a string arrangement to augment the irony of the harpsichord part.  Harrison agreed, and an octet performed Martin's score on October 10th.  One final touch added at the mixing stage was George saying "one more time" before the final cadence played by the strings.  This verbal comment was actually from September 20th when the vocal harmonies were being recorded. 

The song sits on side two of the "White Album" between two other songs with animals in their titles - Blackbird and Rocky Raccoon.  The Beatles never revisited Piggies, but George revived it for his brief tour of Japan in 1991, also playing a final verse that he had omitted when the song was originally recorded.  This can be heard on his album Live in Japan.  But wait...there's more...

Hunter Davies, who had written the official biography of the Beatles during their career, collected handwritten manuscripts of as many of the group's songs as he could over the years and published the book The Beatles Lyrics in 2014.  In it, he reprints a set of lyrics in George's own hand that contains yet another verse, never before seen or heard.

Saturday, December 12, 2020

Penny Lane

The songwriting team of Lennon and McCartney was not just a partnership, but also a rivalry that slowly managed to increase in intensity over the years.  In late 1966, that rivalry was still friendly for the most part, and the two old chums were more likely to be cooperative rather than adversarial.  On some occasions, a composition that one of them wrote on his own would inspire the other to come up with something of equal merit.  Thus it was that Lennon's dreamy Strawberry Fields Forever, with its idyllic image of one of their childhood haunts, spurred McCartney on to write a tribute to the neighborhood of Penny Lane.  

Lennon's composition was largely an internal meditation on identity, one that only referred to its title locale obliquely.  McCartney, on the other hand, opted to write a piece about specific places and the characters who inhabited them.  Most of us think of it as a sunny song with its "blue suburban skies," but Tim Riley points out in his book Tell Me Why that the third line of every verse shifts into a minor key as the characters deal with the "pouring rain."  Then there is the verse about the pretty nurse, who, "though she feels as if she's in a play, she is anyway."  McCartney very subtly hints that under the shiny surface, things are not always what they seem.  "Very strange."

Riley states that Penny Lane is "as perfect as pop gets," and goes on to say that "McCartney's command of the 45 genre in this song is masterful," forgetting that neither this song nor Strawberry Fields Forever were written as singles.  Rather, they were both intended to be part of an album built around the concept of childhood.  Though that concept album was abandoned once these songs were selected for immediate release, the double-A sided single was issued in a picture sleeve with photos of the Beatles as children on one side.

In the book Here, There and Everywhere, engineer Geoff Emerick reveals that Paul was still heavily influenced by the Beach Boys album Pet Sounds at this time, and he told Geoff that he wanted a "clean American sound" for this song.  Emerick suggested that they record each instrument individually in order to achieve this, instead of the usual practice of having the band lay down a backing track onto which overdubs could be added.  The process became very complex as a result and was spread out over many days.

On December 29th, 1966, Paul began this process by recording six takes of the piano track.  He then recorded two more piano tracks, each with slight variations and different effects added to make them sound distinct.  He played a high-pitched harmonium on track four, most prominent at the very end of the song.  Along the way Ringo joined in playing  tambourine, and a sped-up drum roll and cymbals were also added.  On December 30th, these four tracks were reduced to a single track before overdubs continued with Paul's lead vocal and occasional backing vocals from John.

January 4th, 1967 saw John add yet another piano part as George played guitar and Paul double-tracked his vocal line.  On the 5th, Paul re-recorded his lead vocals.  On the 6th, Paul played bass, John added rhythm guitar and Ringo drums.  John also played conga drums!  Another reduction mix followed before John and producer George Martin added - you guessed it - even more piano.  Handclaps and scat singing by Paul, John and George of what would eventually become the brass part finished out the day's work.

For some reason, George Martin's arrangement was recorded by different sets of instruments on different days.  The first group of flutes, trumpets, piccolos and a fluegelhorn played their parts on January 9th.  In between, on the 10th, Ringo added tubular bells to the track at the two points where the fireman is mentioned.  On the 12th, more trumpets, oboes, cor anglais and a double bass finished recording Martin's arrangement.  At this session, Paul told Martin about a tiny trumpet he had seen on a television program the previous evening.  It turned out that Martin knew the player, David Mason, and that he played the piccolo trumpet in Bach's Brandenburg Concerto on the BBC program in question.

Though the track had probably been considered complete at this point, Paul could not resist the opportunity to add the piccolo trumpet to the mix, so Mason arrived at the studio on January 17th to apply the crowning touch.  Paul figured out the melody he wanted, Martin wrote it down and Mason nailed it in two takes.  

A mono mix was made and quickly sent along with the Strawberry Fields Forever mono mix to the US for the single release.  But Paul belatedly decided that he did not want the final little piccolo trumpet flourish at the end of the song, so a new mono mix was sent to the US on January 25th.  Promotional copies of the first mix had already been played on American radio.  These, of course, instantly became collector's items.

While Penny Lane became a number one hit in the US, it stalled at number two in the UK, unable to dislodge Engelbert Humperdinck's Release Me from the top spot.  At the end of the year, Capitol added it along with the other songs from 1967 singles to the Magical Mystery Tour album, although in mock stereo.  The first true stereo mix was created in 1971, and first heard only on the UK version of the Blue Album in 1973.  The US version of the album Rarities in 1980 finally used the true stereo mix and included the final trumpet flourish. 

Anthology 2 from 1996 presents a version of the song highlighting some elements buried in the final mix, especially a lovely brass instrumental section before David Mason's piccolo trumpet solo was added in its place.  50th anniversary editions of Sgt. Pepper include the stripped down backing track of pianos, plus various voices and sound effects barely heard or not heard at all on the finished product.

Promotional films were made for Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields Forever at the time of the single's release.  To create the illusion that they were in Liverpool, a crew was dispatched to get some location shots of the Penny Lane district, but the Beatles were actually shot walking and riding white horses around Angel Lane in the east end of London.  The horses were used again around Knole Park near Sevenoaks in Kent, where another scene was shot of the boys around a dinner table in the park.  As was the case when the Beatles were placed on skis for the film Help!, they seem to have had no prior experience riding horses.  Oddly, John, not Paul, is the primary focus of the film.

The films were quickly edited and shown on various programs in the UK including Juke Box Jury and Top of the Pops.  In the US, they appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show, American Bandstand and ABC's variety show The Hollywood Palace.  These films were the first time that audiences saw the Beatles' new look with moustaches and beards, and reaction was definitely mixed.

Sunday, December 6, 2020

Paperback Writer

The Beatles had been in sessions for their next album for exactly one week in April of 1966 when they were required to turn their attention to recording a new single for immediate release.  Unlike the previous two years, there was no film in production and no batch of soundtrack songs from which a spring single could be chosen.  And it had already been (gasp!) four months since their last official single release in the UK.  

McCartney had a composition that could work quite nicely as a single - despite its unusual content - thanks to a catchy chorus.  While some other pop recording artists had already ventured off to more varied subject matter, the Beatles had strictly stuck to love songs up to this point for the official singles in their catalog.  This song, in the form of a letter to a publisher from an aspiring author who has written "a dirty story of a dirty man," would be a departure for them.

They began work on the song during the evening session on April 13th.  Only two takes were made of the backing track, probably featuring a lineup of Paul on lead guitar, John on rhythm guitar, Ringo on drums and George playing a rather subdued bass line.  Before the session was over, Paul had overdubbed and double-tracked his lead vocal, and Ringo had added tambourine.

The track was completed on the following afternoon, with piano and organ parts played by producer George Martin, which wound up being deleted.  The major elements added were the backing vocals and a prominent new bass line, now played by Paul.  At the urging of John and Paul, engineer Geoff Emerick and Ken Townsend figured a way to boost the bass sound on an EMI recording for the first time, making it sound more like the American records the Beatles admired.  

The backing vocals by John and George in verses three and four were simply the words "Frere Jacques" sung in falsetto for no particular reason other than a good laugh.  Waves of backing vocals were also overdubbed onto the title phrase, an overt attempt by the Beatles to emulate the Beach Boys harmonies which they had recently heard on an advance copy of the landmark album Pet Sounds.  Echo was added to these harmonies only as the mono mix was being created.

Though this song and its B-side Rain were quickly recorded over the span of four days, the single was not released until May 30th in the US and June 10th in the UK.  And while sales were lower than usual for a Beatles single in the UK, it still managed to hit number one in both countries.  Toward the end of the year, a stereo mix was created for the first time as the song was added to the UK compilation album A Collection of Beatles Oldies.

Director Michael Lindsey-Hogg produced multiple promotional films and videos for both sides of the single.  The color video was shot specifically for the Ed Sullivan Show in studio one of EMI's Abbey Road Studios.  It was preceded by an amusing introduction addressed to Ed Sullivan himself by Ringo.  In addition to showing the group miming to the song on their instruments, the Paperback Writer video has the boys holding up transparencies from the infamous butcher photo shoot (though it is impossible to tell that that is indeed what they are in the quick shots).  It also clearly shows the front tooth that Paul had recently chipped in a moped accident.

The Paperback Writer film was shot one day later in Chiswick Park, alternately showing the boys lounging in the garden or once again miming to the record.  This lovely color film was broadcast in black and white on Top of the Pops.  Surprisingly, that program also managed to lure the group to its studio to mime to both sides of the single on live TV (pictured above on June 16th, 1966).

Even more of a surprise was the decision by the Beatles to add the song to the setlist for their final live tours in 1966.  It was difficult to reproduce onstage given the technology of the time, and they did not perform it well, as you can hear if you manage to find a sound clip of any of those concerts.

Fans in the US finally got to hear the stereo mix when the song appeared on the Capitol compilation album Hey Jude in February of 1970.  It was, of course, included on the Red Album in 1973, on both the US and UK versions of 20 Greatest Hits in 1982, on Past Masters Volume Two in 1988, and on the album 1 in 2000.  The video collection 1+ contains both of the promotional clips from 1966.

Monday, November 30, 2020

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.

Thursday, November 26, 2020

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.

Monday, November 16, 2020

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. 

Friday, November 13, 2020

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.  

Thursday, November 5, 2020

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.  

Wednesday, October 28, 2020

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.

Tuesday, October 20, 2020

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. 

Tuesday, October 13, 2020

Not a Second Time


The above article by music critic William Mann appeared in the Times of London on December 23rd, 1963, ushering in an era of serious critical consideration for the work of the Beatles, an era which has continued to this very day.  (Search for it online and I'm sure you'll find a version that you can actually read - it's a fascinating piece.)  The most famous line in the article uses the phrase "Aeolian cadence" in reference to Lennon's composition Not a Second Time.  John mocked both the phrase and the article over the years, belittling the intellectual approach of dissecting rock and roll, but there is no doubt that Mann was among the first to praise and legitimize the intuitive writing style employed by the Beatles and others who followed, many of whom had no formal music training.

The song was recorded on September 11th, 1963, during sessions for the album With the Beatles.  The mix of the track is such that many have speculated over the years as to whether Paul and George even play on it, though a bass part can faintly be heard.  At any rate, the first five takes concentrated on the rhythm track accompanied by John's lead vocal.  Takes six through nine were for John to double-track his vocal, and for producer George Martin to overdub his low-register piano part, which dominates the mix.  In roughly an hour and a half, this impressive track was complete - pretty standard work for 1963.

When assembling the album, Martin placed it in the unenviable thirteenth slot, just before the final song, the group's rousing cover version of Money (That's What I Want).  American fans, however, had a different experience of the song.  Capitol Records chose it as the closing number of the album Meet the Beatles!  Not only did this give the song a place of prominence, it affected the listener's sense of the album as a whole.  Finishing with this moody, serious number after the high-spirited, high energy tracks that comprise the bulk of the album helped to highlight the group's broad possibilities for the new American audience.  We may not have had an esteemed music critic like Mann assessing their work for us here in the US, but the discerning fans among us heard more than just the simple "yeah, yeah, yeahs" that were so easy for the press to focus on.  What were these guys capable of?  

Quite a bit, as it turned out.

Thursday, October 8, 2020

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)

I have had several different favorite songs by the Beatles at various points in my life, and, for one stretch of years, that song was Norwegian Wood.  The melancholy mood, the sublime melody and Paul's flair at finding the ideal harmony all combine to create a masterwork of grace and beauty.  How disconcerting, then, to learn that Lennon and McCartney originally conceived the composition as a comedy number.  Furthermore, McCartney takes credit for the line "So I lit a fire," claiming that it was actually about setting the flat on fire and not, as I took it, a reference to the singer having a reflective moment by a fireplace.  Setting these perverse intentions aside, I think most listeners hear the song in a way more closely aligned to what I have always experienced.

The song was first recorded under the title This Bird Has Flown on October 12th, 1965, which was the first day of sessions for the album Rubber Soul.  Only one take, including overdubs, was achieved on this day.  The basic rhythm track featured John and George on acoustic guitars, Paul on bass and Ringo tapping his cymbals.  John's lead vocal was then overdubbed, as well as Paul's harmony vocal, some double-tracking of John's lead, finger cymbals and maracas from Ringo, and the piece de resistance - George playing the sitar.

George had discovered the Indian instrument on the set of their film Help! back in the spring of that year.  He was fascinated by it and soon purchased one in a London shop.  While he had been tinkering with it over the intervening months, he had no formal training on it as yet.  Still, John felt confident enough in his bandmate's ability to introduce it on a pop recording for the very first time.  The playing on this take is a bit clumsy and falls in with the concept of the song as a comedy number, as you can hear on Anthology 2.  Some vocal lines are repeated by the sitar in the bridges, and the track ends with George playing a silly four-note phrase not unlike the old vaudeville bit "and that ain't all!"

By October 21st, a few different approaches were attempted on takes two, three and four, each altering the tone of the song in various ways.  Take four was the keeper we all know and love.  Once more, John and George played acoustic guitars and Paul played his bass.  Ringo, however, merely kept the beat on his bass drum on the basic track, later overdubbing a tambourine.  George's sitar part was played with noticeably more skill and subtlety.  Instead of answering phrases in the bridges, he substitutes droning chords, a technique more akin to the true Indian style that he would eventually learn.

Now known as Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown), the song appeared in the second slot on both the UK and US versions of Rubber Soul.  In 1973, it was one of six songs from that album to appear on the Red Album.  And, in 1977, it was chosen for the compilation album Love Songs. 

Wednesday, September 30, 2020

No Reply

Let me just start this entry by stating that I absolutely love this song.  I always have, from the first time I put the new album Beatles '65 on my parents' turntable.  The urgency in John's voice immediately grabbed me, and the powerful bridge drove home the raw emotion at the core of the narrative, even to a 10-year-old boy who had yet to experience romantic love, let alone the pain of rejection.  It was all over way too soon, but the following song, I'm a Loser, doubled down on the theme, kicking off what was, for me, the best album yet.

Lennon himself was not so keen about his composition.  He initially offered it to another of manager Brian Epstein's artists, a fellow named Tommy Quickly.  In Dave Rybaczewski's in depth look at the song, he relates that Colin Manley, the guitarist who played on Quickly's version, said that Lennon's demo for them to learn the song ended with the sound of a toilet flushing, something John had also done on his demo of Do You Want to Know a Secret that he had recorded for Billy J. Kramer a little over a year earlier.  Manley also reports that the number lacked a bridge on this version.

If the above story is true, that No Reply demo probably preceded the one recorded on June 3rd, 1964.  This eventful day began with Ringo being hospitalized for tonsillitis.  With the group's first world tour scheduled to begin the next day, replacement drummer Jimmy Nicol was promptly brought into the studio to audition and rehearse several numbers with the other Beatles, then sent home to pack.  After his departure, John, Paul and George took turns leading the others through demos of new songs they had written, instead of recording a fourteenth and final track for the album A Hard Day's Night.

When John's turn came around, No Reply, still intended for Tommy Quickly at this point, was put on tape.  Guitar, bass and drums are heard, though it is not known who played what on this very loose version of the number, with John and Paul goofing around and laughing, especially with the phrase "your face," which they insert throughout the song.  As you can hear on Anthology 1, the composition does have the bridge by this time.  Whether or not Quickly received this demo, he did eventually record his own version, but it was never released.

By September 30th, the Beatles were working on their next album, and the song had managed to grow in Lennon's estimation over time.  Anthology 1 also allows us to hear take two from this day, now featuring all four Beatles on their usual instruments, plus producer George Martin on piano.  There is still a bit of goofing at the first "your face," but the overall tone is closer to the dramatic feel of the master.  After the take breaks down, John comments, "...we just found out what to do, anyway.  It's good."

On take five, they repeated the bridge and a verse, but that made the track over three minutes long - an uncommon length in 1964 - so that idea was scrapped.  The master was take eight, onto which they overdubbed handclaps, with John and Paul double-tracking their vocals, as well.

The song was now regarded to be strong enough that it was under consideration as a possible A-side for the group's next single, along with I'm a Loser and Eight Days a Week.  All three eventually lost out to I Feel Fine.  When assembling the album Beatles for Sale, Martin chose No Reply as the opening track, a move Capitol Records in the US repeated on Beatles '65, as I noted above.  It remained in the same position on the UK EP Beatles for Sale.

(An odd sidebar - My professed love for this song was sorely put to the test several years ago when a director loudly played one of the Anthology versions to distract me during a callback audition.  His ploy worked.  I did not get cast.  True story.)  

Friday, September 25, 2020

The Night Before

Of the four songs that McCartney proposed as contenders for the soundtrack of the group's second feature film, this was the strongest.  The only other one to even make the cut was Another Girl.  Tell Me What You See wound up on the non-soundtrack side of the eventual album, and That Means a Lot remained unissued until the Anthology series many years later.

The recording was made on February 17th, 1965, during that day's afternoon session.  A good deal of rehearsal probably preceded the only two takes of the backing track that the group put on tape.  John Lennon chose to forego his usual rhythm guitar and sat down at a Hohner electric piano.  Considering that it is one of his earliest efforts on a keyboard, it is surprisingly good, and proves to be the driving force among the instruments used on the recording.

With take two as the master, Paul overdubbed his lead vocal, John and George sang their backing parts, and Ringo added maracas to the Latin beat he plays on his drumkit during the bridge.  Once Paul double-tracked his lead vocal, all that was left was to overdub a solo.  Paul had worked out a simple, but highly-structured guitar line which he and George played simultaneously, an octave apart.  They also played a brief, similar phrase for the very end of the song.  

The song is used late in the film Help! on Salisbury Plain, immediately after George Harrison's composition I Need You.  Unlike the other songs that appear on the soundtrack, The Night Before is broken up, as the action cuts back and forth just before a huge action sequence, so we hear some sections of the song more than once while other sections are omitted.

The band played the number only one more time, as part of their final BBC Radio appearance on the awkwardly-titled program The Beatles Invite You to Take a Ticket to Ride.  This was recorded in late May and broadcast in early June, months before the album and the film were released, so the song would have been brand-new to listeners.

The Night Before is the second track on both the US and UK versions of the album Help!  It made its sole post-career appearance on the 1976 compilation album Rock and Roll Music.  This has always struck me as an odd choice for that collection.  I have never thought of it as a rocker, but rather more of a pleasant mid-tempo pop song.

Sunday, September 20, 2020

Mother Nature's Son

Music critic Tim Riley was not a big fan Mother Nature's Son.  In his 1988 book Tell Me Why, one of the first serious looks at the work of the Beatles, he states that in this song Paul "...targets Donovan's foppishness as he unwittingly outlines a career for John Denver..."  Ouch.  Most fans would disagree with this assessment.

The composition was written in early 1968 in Rishikesh, India on an occasion when McCartney was inspired by one of the Maharishi's lectures.  When the Beatles reunited at George Harrison's house in May to record demos of all the songs they proposed for their next album, Paul double-tracked his vocals on this number and accompanied himself on acoustic guitar, with his guitar work sounding almost note for note like the official recording he would make a few months later.  There is even a tapping not unlike that heard on the finished product. 

The first session took place on August 9th, once again featuring only Paul and an acoustic guitar.  He ran through 25 takes before he settled on take 24 as the best.  Anthology 3 gives us take 2, which was the first full runthrough of the number, with only a few minor flubs keeping it from being perfect.  The 50th anniversary deluxe edition of the "White Album" presents take 15, on which he plays around with some vocal variations, none of them making the final cut.  

Producer George Martin then was given the task of writing an arrangement for brass instruments to accompany the song.  John Lennon had inadvertently given Paul this idea when dropping in on the session for Blackbird back in June, stating that that song could benefit from having a brass band.  Paul immediately switched to playing Mother Nature's Son at the suggestion, realizing that John had hit on a good suggestion, but for the wrong song.

On August 20th, Martin conducted two trumpeters and two trombonists hired to play his arrangement, which, as usual, meshed perfectly with the recording-in-progress.  Aside from Paul, these four musicians were the only others to appear on the track.  The rest of the Beatles were not involved, although John and Ringo reportedly stopped by this session for a few moments, creating a palpable tension noticed by the staff on hand in the studio. 

After the brass players and the other Beatles departed, Paul turned to the overdubs.  He double-tracked his vocals and acoustic guitar in places, though not as much as on the May demo.  Ringo's bass drum was then moved out into a corridor (perhaps this was the source of the tension - Ringo's famous walkout occurred just a few days later) so that, when Paul played it, it could be recorded by a microphone placed a couple floors up a stairwell with a good deal of natural echo.

Finally, the tapping.  As Paul listened to the track in the control room, he tapped a book with his finger.  Liking the sound and perhaps recalling the similar effect on the May demo, he had engineer Ken Scott set up yet another microphone to capture the sound and add it to the finished master.    

The song sounds as though it belongs on side two of the "White Album" with most of the other quieter numbers, but it actually works quite well as an oasis of calm on side three sitting between Lennon's searing Yer Blues and the screaming rocker Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey.

And, in case you were wondering, Tim Riley reports that, yes, John Denver did do a cover version of Mother Nature's Son.

Thursday, September 10, 2020

Money (That's What I Want)

Those in the know, those who were there, have always stated that this is the one recording that we all should listen to if we want to know what the Beatles sounded like in their heyday in the Cavern Club in Liverpool.  The piano part played by producer George Martin would not have been part of it, of course, but the raw energy generated by the band and the rough, grungy sound would have been much the same.  Listening to it today you can almost smell the sweat and the smoke in the dark, crowded basement venue, even if, like me, you have never even been there.

In Mark Lewisohn's book Tune In, the frontman of rival Liverpool band Kingsize Taylor and the Dominoes claims that the Beatles learned the song from watching his band perform it.  John, Paul, George and Pete would each listen to a different line and write out what they heard.  The next time Kingsize saw them, they were performing it in their act.

The boys began playing Money on their first visit to Hamburg, West Germany, in 1960, and it remained in their repertoire for the next few years.  They performed a surprisingly lackluster rendition of the song as part of their audition for Decca Records on New Year's Day of 1962.  Ringo was familiar with the number, so they continued to feature it after he joined the group.

The official recording for the album With the Beatles was begun on July 18th, 1963.  It was played live in the studio with Martin sitting in on piano.  The band required six takes before all were satisfied with the result.  Martin then added a piano edit piece, but the Beatles' work on the track was complete.

The next session for the album was not until July 30th.  On this occasion, the Beatles were present, but only Martin was recorded, playing overdubs on piano for takes eight through fourteen.  Yet, when the mono mix of the song was prepared on August 21st, these overdubs were ignored, leaving an edit of take six and the piano edit piece known as take seven from July 18th as the master.

Martin was still not happy with his piano work on the recording, so he made three more attempts at an overdub on September 30th.  The song was not mixed for stereo until October 29th and again on the 30th, when Martin chose to combine two mono mixes along with overdub work from September 30th, thus making the stereo mix quite different from the earlier mono mix.

With the album due to come out in November, the song returned to the group's set list.  Anthology 1 gives us a listen to a fine performance of the number for a radio broadcast in front of a studio audience on the band's inaugural visit to Sweden in October of 1963.  Though the fans are unfamiliar with the song, the Beatles win them over with a hard-rocking attack and guitars that sound surprisingly distorted for the period.

In addition to returning Money to their stage act, the Beatles also played the song several times on various BBC Radio programs.  On Air - Live at the BBC Volume 2 gives us one such performance from their show From Us to You broadcast on Boxing Day 1963.    

The song closed out the album With the Beatles in the UK, also appearing on the EP All My Loving.  Capitol only released it on The Beatles' Second Album.  After the group's career, it was a natural choice for the compilation Rock and Roll Music in 1976.

In January of 1969, the Beatles revisited the song on two of the early sessions at Twickenham Film Studios for the Get Back project.  It was briefly considered for the grand rock and roll show that never came to fruition.  Perhaps this kept it in the back of John Lennon's mind at the end of the year when he assembled a band at the last minute for a live performance in Toronto on September 13th.  A line up consisting of John, Eric Clapton, Klaus Voorman and Alan White appeared on this occasion, playing a selection of rock and roll oldies they all agreed upon on their trans-Atlantic flight.  Their version of Money was sufficiently grungy, though the tempo was lethargic compared to the versions by the Beatles, and John had no backing vocals to support him.  Their entire set was released on the Plastic Ono Band album Live Peace in Toronto at the end of the year.

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Mr. Moonlight

It's fair to say that most fans of the Beatles dislike this song, with many hating it outright and declaring it the worst that the band ever recorded.  Yet John Lennon clearly loved it and, as with just about every cover song he chose for the group to preserve for posterity, he sang it as if his life depended on it.  And along with such obscurities as Anna (Go to Him), Devil in Her Heart and Bad Boy, it displays the incredibly wide musical knowledge of the Beatles.

The composition was one of those hard-to-find B-sides that all Liverpool bands constantly searched for in an attempt to get a leg up on the competition.  Lennon discovered this record by a band called Dr. Feelgood and the Interns in June of 1962, and the Beatles soon learned it and worked it into their stage act.  In Dave Rybaczewski's in depth look at the song, the group's road manager Neil Aspinall relates that they would sometimes use it as an opening number, recalling the tension in the room before John had to deliver his screaming vocal intro.

The song appears on the Star Club tapes recorded in December of 1962 in Hamburg, West Germany.  John does not even bother to attempt the intro on this occasion, when the boys were simply anxious to return to England to promote their first singles.  Instead, the band launches into a breakneck version of the song, as they did on quite a few numbers on that evening.  The loose nature of the event is exemplified by John singing "here I am on my nose" in place of "here I am on my knees," - not just once, but twice.

On August 14th, 1964, at only the second session for the album Beatles for Sale, the group brought back this novelty number after a long absence (it had not even been among the various old favorites that they had resurrected for their many BBC radio appearances).  Anthology 1 gives us take one, which merely consists of John attempting the vocal intro.  "Nearly," Paul says encouragingly.  By take four, which is also on Anthology 1, John nails it, and the group turns in a full performance, which was then considered to be the master.

They ultimately thought otherwise, however, and returned to the number during a marathon session on October 18th, where it was one of eight recordings completed on the day.  Takes five through eight were not essentially different from the August takes, but producer George Martin was unhappy with the odd, twangy guitar solo played by George Harrison.  It was decided that the solo would be played instead as an overdub by Paul on a Hammond organ.  This hilariously cheesy, lounge-lizard organ part is especially offensive to those who despise the recording.

When the production team was mixing the song for mono and stereo, John's vocal intro from take four in August was edited onto the beginning of the master take eight from October.  Fans have always wondered why this song was chosen over the band's blistering cover of Leave My Kitten Alone for a spot on the album, but no explanation has ever been given except that the Beatles were supposedly unhappy with their recording of the latter song.  Most, if not all, would disagree.

In the UK, Mr. Moonlight could only be found on the album Beatles for Sale.  Capitol Records in the US not only released it on the album Beatles '65, but also included it on the EP 4 by the Beatles, despite having many other tracks to choose from.  

Thursday, August 20, 2020

Misery

This Lennon/McCartney composition looms large in the history of that songwriting partnership, as I recently learned from Dave Rybaczewski's excellent in depth look at the song, yet I am sure that this title is so obscure as to be completely unfamiliar to many casual Beatles fans.

Though the budding songwriters bragged of having penned over a hundred songs before they even became famous, most of those tunes never saw the light of day afterwards, most likely due to a lack of quality.  However, manager Brian Epstein felt early on that there was as much potential revenue in song publishing as there was in the band's recordings, so he encouraged the boys to try to write new songs - not just for the Beatles, but for other artists, as well.

In January of 1963, the group was scheduled to begin a winter tour at the bottom of a bill headlined by British teenage pop sensation Helen Shapiro.  Encouraged by their manager, Lennon and McCartney boldly decided to craft a song to present to the young star, even though the Beatles only had two singles to their name at the time.  They started writing Misery on January 26th while backstage at one of the endless gigs Epstein had now lined up for them.  On February 2nd, the tour began.  The boys quickly befriended Helen Shapiro and Paul soon took the opportunity to offer the song to her, but her manager, Norrie Paramour, rejected it.

Mere days later, during a break in the tour, the Beatles reported to EMI Studios in London to spend the entire day of February 11th recording their first album.  They figured that if a current star was not going to be allowed to record their latest composition, then they would record it themselves.  Most of the songs they did on this day were cover versions from their stage act, which they knew well and which were quickly dispatched.  This being a new song, however, it took 11 takes for them to work out the arrangement and arrive at a satisfactory performance singing and playing live in the studio.  George Harrison in particular had a difficult time playing a descending figure on guitar, prompting producer George Martin to alter the tape speed for the last few takes to facilitate an easy fix.

The Beatles were not present on February 20th when Martin overdubbed the descending notes on piano - one of the only overdubs on the entire album.  Engineer Geoff Emerick was on hand on this day, marveling at Martin's trick of recording the piano at a different speed, something he would repeat numerous times in the coming years.

As it turned out, another artist on the Helen Shapiro tour was interested in Misery.  Kenny Lynch (note him on the poster pictured above) thus became the first act besides the Beatles to record a composition by McCartney-Lennon, as their names were listed at that time.  Ten years later, Lynch would appear on the cover photo of the album Band on the Run, standing right behind Paul.  A film of that photo shoot shows Kenny and Paul sharing a moment to sing the intro of Misery.

Despite its title, the song is sung almost as a lark by John and Paul, especially during the fadeout when they get downright goofy.  It sits in the second slot on the album Please Please Me, as well as on the EP The Beatles (No.1).  It is one of just a few songs that Capitol Records did not release during the group's career in the US.  American fans could only find it on the various permutations of the Vee-Jay album Introducing...the Beatles and on the Vee-Jay EP Souvenir of Their Visit to America.  Capitol finally released it on the compilation album Rarities in 1980.

On Air - Live at the BBC, Vol. 2 features a performance of the number before a studio audience on BBC radio's Here We Go, recorded on March 6th.  The youngsters in the crowd were unfamiliar with the song on that date because the album had not yet been released.  Given the time to properly learn his part, George Harrison had by now mastered the descending figure on guitar.  Misery was featured in the band's repertoire for the first half of 1963, and they would play it six more times on various BBC programs before retiring the number.           

Friday, August 14, 2020

Michelle

Before even starting the sessions for Rubber Soul in late 1965, the Beatles realized that they were short of material for a full album.  Still, they knew that they no longer wanted to record cover versions of other people's songs, if possible, so any idea leading to a new composition was welcome.  It was around this time that Lennon reminded McCartney of an old piece that he used to do at parties to attract girls - a lovely melody which Paul would play off in a corner while singing mock French lyrics.  Inspired by this memory, McCartney went off and wrote some real verses for the tune, adding some authentic French lines with the assistance Jan Vaughan, the wife of old Liverpool friend Ivan Vaughan.  This being a period of true collaboration for the songwriting team, Lennon then helped with the middle eight.

On November 3rd, 1965, the entire day was devoted to work on Michelle, beginning with a good deal of rehearsal.  This really paid off when the boys needed only one take to record the basic track with  three acoustic guitars and drums.  When attention turned to the vocals, Paul sang his lead vocal first, then he was joined by John and George to record the backing vocals.  Under producer George Martin's supervision, they double-tracked their parts, thus creating the full, rich sound of six voices.

Only after the vocals were complete did Paul sit down and add his bass line to the recording.  In the photo above, a capo is visible, something very unusual to see on the neck of a bass guitar, but Paul used it to help him more easily match the key of the song as it had been established by the acoustic guitars earlier in the session.

All that was left was for a guitar solo to be overdubbed.  Many have speculated over the years that Paul also played this himself.  But George Martin insists that it was he who actually wrote the melody for the solo, and that he sat at a keyboard, playing it note for note along with George Harrison on guitar.  No keyboard is heard on the recording, but the guitar solo is beautifully performed, regardless of who played it.

There was talk of Michelle being released as a single, but even Capitol Records in the US resisted the temptation to do so, though the American label did add stickers promoting the song on the plastic wrap of the album Rubber Soul.  Radio stations did give it a good deal of airplay, something rather rare for an album track in the mid-60's.

In the UK, the song also appeared on the EP Nowhere Man, as well as on the 1966 album A Collection of Beatles' Oldies, one of the few non-singles on that collection.

After the group's career, it surfaced on the Red Album in 1973 and on Love Songs in 1977.   

Monday, August 10, 2020

Mean Mr. Mustard

Here is yet another song that was written during the fertile creative period in Rishikesh, India, in the spring of 1968.  Lennon felt confident enough about it to include it in the batch of demos recorded at George Harrison's house at the end of May before work began on the sprawling double album The Beatles, yet it never again materialized throughout the five month long sessions for that project.  

Like so many other songs, however, it did surface at the Get Back sessions in January of '69.  The band rehearsed it on four different days, but once again, it was not a strong contender for the project at hand.  Lennon even ad libbed a third verse on one of these days, but it had nothing to do with the portrait of Mr. Mustard he had developed in the rest of the song and was subsequently dropped.  

The number finally found a home when McCartney and producer George Martin came up with the idea of a long medley of unfinished songs for the album Abbey Road.  Lennon linked the song with another of his compositions known at the time as Here Comes the Sun-King, and these were played straight through as one continuous piece.  On July 24th, the group recorded the basic track with everyone playing their usual instruments.  During take 7, they launched into several Gene Vincent numbers.  Anthology 3 gives us Ain't She Sweet, Vincent's mellow version of this old standard being quite different from the march-like recording made by the Beatles in Hamburg in 1961.

Returning to the task at hand, it took until take 35 before they hit upon the best performance.  Part of the reason for this may have been due to the fact that Paul had to switch on his fuzz box for his bass and Ringo had to quickly change drumsticks between the Sun King and Mr. Mustard sections of the arrangement.  Nevertheless, this lengthy session was reportedly very relaxed in contrast to some of the other sessions around this time.

On the following day, John and Paul recorded the lead and harmony vocals.  It was around this time that the name of Mr. Mustard's sister changed to Pam - she had always been Shirley - to give the story a loose connection to that of the song Polythene Pam, which they began recording later on this date.  John also overdubbed a bit of piano onto the track.  The song was completed four days later, on July 29th, with John and Paul double-tracking their vocals, and Ringo adding tambourine.

A rough mix of the entire medley was prepared the next night.  At this time, the song Her Majesty came immediately after Mean Mr. Mustard in the running order, but upon hearing it, Paul realized that his little ditty to the Queen interrupted the flow, so he ordered that it be cut out.  Engineer John Kurlander made a slight error, accidentally cutting out the final crashing chord of Mean Mr. Mustard, though this actually made the new transition into Polythene Pam smoother than it would have been.  Of course, that crashing chord can still be heard at the end of the album, still tacked on to the beginning of Her Majesty.

For those who want to hear the demo of the song from May of 1968, it is available on both Anthology 3 and the 50th anniversary deluxe editions of Abbey Road.  It contains some delightful gibberish from John in places, as well as a bridge that did not make it into the finished version almost a year and a half later.