Tag Archives: rubber soul

#1361: The Beatles – Think for Yourself

Seeing as we’ve had a few last representatives on the blog lately, I had the thought the same would apply for ‘Think for Yourself’ on The Beatles’ Rubber Soul. It’s not the case. There are two songs left I’ve yet to cover. Have had a lot of love for the album for years now, but it didn’t start out that way. Back in 2009, when I was going through a massive Beatles discovery phase, it was announced that Rubber Soul was to be one of three full Beatles albums used as DLC on The Beatles: Rock Band, alongside Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and Abbey Road. The last two I understood. But being the Revolver fan I was, I didn’t understand why it was shafted for this “Rubber Soul“, which I hadn’t yet heard but thought couldn’t possibly be better. I write all this to say my first experience with the album was, I’m very sure, through watching the Rock Band “dreamscapes” for each song on YouTube. Had to admit, Rubber Soul, solid choice for the game. I’m still Revolver all the way, generally.

Rubber Soul is usually seen as the album where the Beatles turned from boys to men and stepped up their game in terms of songwriting. The Lennon-McCartney train kept on rolling. George Harrison had his imposed two-song per album quota, which started proper on Help!, but the point stands when considering he contributed ‘If I Needed Someone’ and today’s subject, ‘Think for Yourself’, the fifth song on Rubber Soul. In his autobiography, Harrison couldn’t recall much regarding the inspiration behind the tune, but said his intention was to “target narrow-minded thinking”. And it may also have something to do with the British government. Overall, it is about not wanting anything to do with another person, leaving them at that fork in the road where they go one way and you the other because you can’t support the things they stand for. And for a song inspired by those kinds of sour situations, it still manages to be catchy as anything.

For me, it’s all about that fuzz bass guitar, played by Paul McCartney, that plays the role of lead guitar in the track. It was an unprecedented move recording a bass guitar through a fuzzbox, as well as including that fuzz-affected bass alongside the standard one. It’s a process one wouldn’t think twice about now, but in November 1965, this was a crazy, crazy idea. The results are very nice. That downward scale played by the basses during the verses, you’ll know what I mean if you listen to the track, swiftly followed by the emphatic harmonies of the three vocalists during the verses make up the best seconds of the entire tune. It’s a little steamroller of a number. The verse flows into the chorus which flows into the verse, and so on, until it ends. No bridge, no instrumental break. And sometimes that’s all it takes. There’s a 15-minute audio clip of Lennon, McCartney and Harrison recording overdubs. Lennon and McCartney, working on a Harrisong, don’t take it all that seriously. Go ahead and have a listen.

#1143: The Beatles – Run for Your Life

I don’t care what anyone says. I really like this song. The Beatles’ ‘Run for Your Life’ has gained a bit of a stink amidst the Internet community in recent years. People hear the song’s first line and are immediately shocked. Appalled. “I’d rather see you dead, little girl, than to be with another man.” Gasp. “What? Oh, my God.” Then come the rest of the lyrics that detail this girl’s low survival rate at the hands of the song’s narrator who will kill her if she even dare tried to leave him. It strikes a chord. Then add in the whole ‘John Lennon beat women back in his day’ statement (which is true and is bad, but the guy’s dead – can’t get any more cancelled than that) and people have a field day with criticising it. Then there’s the argument that it doesn’t bring the most satisfying end to the band’s Rubber Soul album. That’s a notion I would be fine with agreeing with if I cared that much.

The track was the first to be recorded for the album in October 1965. Not much is known of how John Lennon came to write the words, but the opening line (stated in the above paragraph) was taken from the Elvis Presley song ‘Baby Let’s Play House’. I assume that everything that followed was made just to match the tone of that source of inspiration. Backing up the threatening lyrics is an upbeat performance by the four band members. Lennon’s vocal performance is one that I thoroughly enjoy too. He’s backed up by the harmonies of McCartney and Harrison on the choruses, which aid in building that sort of tension within the song, that’s then resolved in the slide guitar and rhythm guitar riff that arrive after each iteration. A piercing bluesy guitar solo adds the icing on the song’s cake. In the end, George Harrison really liked ‘Run for Your Life’. Lennon not so much. He would later state that it was his least favourite Beatles song. In fact, I’d probably say the reason the track was chosen as the album closer was because he thought it was the worst one out of all the songs they’d recorded for the album, rather than thinking it would be a good way to finish things off.

I dunno. I think at the end of the day, it’s just a song and shouldn’t be taken so literally. I mean, are there people living today who could very much hold the values and ideals held by the narrator of the song? I wouldn’t doubt it. And that sucks. But at the same time, it’s so outrageous coming from the Beatles that you almost sort of have to laugh at it. Is Lennon writing about himself? Don’t think you can objectively say no. But I think once people learn about Lennon’s history, they hear the track and judge the dude’s character solely based on it. A whole hypocrisy argument comes in because Lennon was the peace guy, even though this song was written years before he became the figurehead of that specific movement. Maybe it’s me who’s making a big deal out of all of this. I’m just writing about what I’ve seen, I swear. Whatever view you may hold on it, I’m gonna carry on listening regardless.

#957: The Beatles – Nowhere Man

Hey, it’s ‘Nowhere Man’. The track written by a 24-year-old John Lennon, who in 1865 was one of the most famous people in the world, but still felt like a bit of a bum who didn’t have a purpose or set direction in life. This wasn’t the usual “I love you/I wish you loved me/I’m thankful you love me/My friend loves you, you know” type track that the group had become known for up to that point. ‘Nowhere’ was much different in its theme. This was a song about, what we call nowadays, the existential crisis. Lennon once recalled that he wrote it very quickly after properly wracking his brain in trying to write another song for Rubber Soul. His remarks make it sound like he barely put any thought behind it, but there’s definitely a hint of sadness that maybe he wouldn’t have wanted to admit to. In the end, it ended up being one of the highlights from the album. Probably my favourite on there.

Lennon, Paul McCartney and George Harrison open the track a capella, harmonising on the song’s first line before all the instruments jump in. It’s pretty much smooth sailing from then on. No momentum is ever lost. McCartney really keeps things busy with a hopping and striding bassline that keeps its groove, but also carries out its own melody. On top, Ringo Starr keeps a steady rhythm alongside Lennon’s acoustic guitar, and the three vocalists consistently harmonise right up to the song’s end. Even when they aren’t singing the same words, Harrison and McCartney harmonise some wordless vocals while Lennon sings another verse/chorus/bridge. It’s hard to tell. There’s no distinctive section in this track. Every part just rolls into the next so smoothly, it’s a hook with another hook lined up next to another one, most of the time linked together by a descending five-note guitar riff that is also so memorable in its own way.

I’m not sure how to heap more praise or talk about this track without inadvertently ripping from other places. I certainly do admire it still. It’s a greatly upbeat track about the worries of wondering what you’re doing with your life, and I’m sure that’s something we’ve all felt at least once when you get to that mid-20 age range. It never really stops after that either. So the ability of the band to somehow capture that feeling and at least turn it into something positive and relatable ticks all the boxes for me. A very miniscule highlight for me, which you probably wouldn’t notice unless you’re really listening, is when the three sing the last “Making all his nowhere plans for nobody” lyric and Lennon kinda slows the way he sings it, while McCartney and Harrison rush it. It’s very subtle. I can assume it wasn’t on purpose. But it always sticks out to me.

#944: The Beatles – Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)

The Beatles’ ‘Norwegian Wood’ is a tale of infidelity… going wrong? Not that infidelity is the best situation, but in John Lennon’s case he was ready to go until seemingly being mislead and left hanging. Affected by the ordeal, he wrote what became the second track on 1965’s Rubber Soul. Worked on together with the input of the other three guys, it became the first track of its kind to incorporate an Indian instrument into a Western rock recording through George Harrison’s work on the sitar and essentially started the whole India craze in music that lasted for quite a while in that decade.

So, yes, Lennon was gonna cheat on his wife on one occasion, with whom it’s never been revealed, but as we can assume from this song nothing happened leaving him frustrated. He’s invited in, admires the decor, thinks things are going somewhere, the lady has other ideas and leaves, Lennon wakes up from a bath and finds out she’s gone, and whichever way you interpret the ending, he lights a fire and continues admiring the house or burns the whole place down as revenge. The things men think of doing when blue-balled, eh. But the story is delivered in a calming setting, aided by Lennon’s soft vocal, his strong acoustic guitar work, and of course the sitar by Harrison. It’s all so innocent sounding, like a cool breeze, which I think helps in giving the lyrical content another angle. Sometimes you get so lost in the instrumentation that a read of the words would bring on some different feelings. But for me, once that acoustic riff starts it off, I can only ever feel relaxed and not the least concerned about anything else.

I don’t think I knew this song existed until the release of The Beatles: Rock Band in 2009. Rubber Soul was released on the game as DLC, allowing players to go through the whole album with “dreamscapes” included which provided some nice visuals. Probably the closest thing the song could have to a music video. I’m guessing the track was a highlight for me from that point on, but there are a lot of things from when I was 14 that I can’t quite remember clearly. What matters is it’s been a mainstay for all these years. Nice how these things turn out.

#838: The Beatles – Michelle

Story goes that, in his younger days, Paul McCartney would go to parties, pretend he was French and perform a song with his acoustic guitar with a fake accent to woo the ladies. In his own words, his goal never came to fruition. But many years later when he was in the Beatles and recording Rubber Soul, John Lennon reminded him of that fake-French song and told him to work on it so it could be a new number for their album. The result is ‘Michelle’, a love song cherished by many and probably a reason why a lot of people out there have the same name.

For a long time, I mean a long time, I didn’t care about this track. Thought it was just a soppy love song, “I love you, I love you”, yeah, yeah, okay McCartney. Didn’t give it much thought. And it suffered from the terrible instruments-in-one-ear-vocals-in-the-other mix that the whole album had. Didn’t make the listening experience much better. Then I made my own mix using the Beatles Rock Band stems that you can find online with a quick google, and I suddenly liked it a lot more. I’m still not into the lyrics that much, but there’s a swing and coolness in its delivery that’s undeniable.

I find myself listening more to McCartney’s bass line that rings and climbs and falls and sometimes mirrors the ‘ooh-ooh’ backing vocals by Lennon and George Harrison. Those elements really add to the smoky nightclub feel which I think the track is going for. That smooth solo that comes in during the middle is pretty slick too. All of these aren’t really given their props in the album mix. Now if I could share my mix, you’d probably like the song a lot more. But that’d just be too long of a process. So I’ll share the mix from the Rock Band game instead.