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.