Tag Archives: the beatles

#1024: The Beatles – Penny Lane

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I’m sure I’ve told this anecdote before, but it was seeing the videos for ‘Penny Lane’ along a few Beatle promos (‘Hey Bulldog’, ‘The Night Before’) that fully changed my mind about seeing what all this hype about the Beatles was. In fact, I am certain I have, because I dedicated a whole post to it in about 2014. To summarise that post, I wasn’t really sure about the Beatles before 2009, but then the Rock Band game came out alongside the remasters. VH1 had a timeslot dedicated to Beatles videos. ‘Penny Lane’ was one of them, and upon hearing the music and seeing the jovial chemistry between these four people on-screen – plus, the supposed agreement that this was the best band of all time – I sent myself into the void and ended up researching everything there was to know about the group.

‘Penny Lane’ is one of my favourite Beatles songs. Years after humming the track to myself on the way to school when I was 14, it still brings a happy feeling when those ringing bass notes mark the sudden introduction. But it’s not just for nostalgia’s sake that I appear to be clinging onto this one for some sort of support. Just in general, the track is executed to perfection. Paul McCartney wrote a song about a street in Liverpool he would frequently pass through as a kid, mirroring the same approach John Lennon took on for ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’. While that track became the experimental psychedelic exhibition, ‘Penny Lane’ was much straighter in approach whilst still maintaining a regal air about it with all the woodwinds and trumpets and other instrumentation that were more typical of an orchestra than a rock band.

As I said earlier, the music video played a big part in me wanting to find out more Beatles stuff. In the context of their careers, it was made at the point where the Beatles made it clear they weren’t going on tour anymore. The videos for ‘Strawberry Fields’ and ‘Penny Lane’ were also revealed after an extended break, in which people were wondering if the Beatles bubble had burst and they were heading for a split. They came back with moustaches and promo videos where they weren’t lipsyncing to the words or ‘playing’ their instruments. They make it most clear in this one in a very obvious manner. They ride past their instruments on their horses as if they are above them, to say ‘we’re not doing that stuff anymore’. When John Lennon starts saying “In Penny Lane” at 1:46, the camera switches to another scene as if to say ‘Nope. We don’t do that here.’ And when they are actually handed their instruments at the end, they pretend they have no idea what they are and start fiddling about with them, while Lennon flips a table over because he didn’t get his guitar. It’s a funny, little anti-music video, signifying that these boys were now men. Men with funny looking moustaches.

#1013: The Beatles – Paperback Writer

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Hey, look at that, it’s a Beatles song. So now comes the problem in how I can possibly approach this post without writing something that you can already find online… I think I just have to accept that when it comes to Beatles material, you can’t really write anything without regurgitating something that’s already been said or researched. But that’s why I have to put my own personal angle in there. Thinking about ‘Paperback Writer’, I don’t think it was one by the band where I heard it the first time and was instantly amazed. It’s only just over two minutes in length, but 14-year-old me needed those extra listens for it to all come together. It did. Thirteen years later, it feels just as good when those opening vocal harmonies come in.

Recorded during the sessions for what would become Revolver in 1966, Paul McCartney was inspired to write the track by his aunt, who suggested he write about something other than love for a change, and after he saw Ringo Starr reading in the backstage area of a venue. He and John Lennon got together, wrote the lyrics in the form of a letter from an aspiring writer who wants to get their book published and eventually worked on the track with George Harrison and Ringo Starr in the studio over two days in April ’66. Continuing their quest on experimenting in the studio, which properly started on sessions for the previous album, the group changed the line-up configuration to record the song’s backing track, with McCartney on lead guitar (he plays the riffs and the chugging lines during the verses), Harrison playing the rhythm, Starr on the usual drums and Lennon on tambourine. They did it in two takes, with the second being used for the final cut. That’s all they needed.

Got a lotta love for this power-pop number. With the Revolver Super Deluxe box set that came out a few months ago, some commenters were quick-witted to notice the huge similarity between the main guitar riff here and what would be used for the horns in ‘Got to Get You into My Life‘. Never would have put two and two together. Clearly, this was a melody McCartney had had in his head, so to make two songs out of it is quite something. Yeah, the riff’s cool, but there has to be huge props given to the bass guitar. Using a Rickenbacker bass instead of his signature Hofner and aided with some engineering know-how by Geoff Emerick, the low end has a fatter groove and provides a real drive to everything that’s happening. Plus, do like the Frère Jacques backing vocals by Lennon and Harrison in the final verses. Why they chose to sing that, I don’t know. But it just works. So, there you have it. Another Beatles post done. There’ll be more to come.

#962: The Beatles – Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

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Man, I think this song’s great. This is a sentiment that wasn’t shared the three particular members of the Beatles while they were working on it during their sessions for what would become the White Album in 1968. Paul McCartney wrote this song, borrowing the title from a Nigerian friend of his, about fictional couple Desmond and Molly Jones and ran through it so many times that George Harrison, Ringo Starr and John Lennon became fed up with the whole thing. A take of the track that was eventually released on Anthology 3 in ’96 showed what the song could have been like had it not been worked on further. Now, I’ve seen people comment how this version is miles better than what ended up on the album. I could never understand that point of view. Just sounds so tame in comparison. At least on the album, the group actually sound like they’re not taking themselves to seriously, which adds a lot to its charm.

It all begins with that striking piano introduction by John Lennon, one that he immediately and angrily demonstrated to the group when he arrived at the studio late, and stoned, and found out what song they were working on. This move apparently redirected the entire direction of the track, and it turned it from that laidback acoustic number to the jumpy, faux-reggae version it was born to be. In the end, it sounds like the band had a fun time recording this new take on the track, especially when it comes to the vocals. With McCartney taking the lead, you can hear Harrison and Lennon jump in with these subtle ad-libs. Maybe to throw McCartney off, I don’t know. For example, when McCartney sings “Desmond lets the children lend a hand,”, Harrison says “arm” and Lennon yelps “leg.” Lennon spells the word “home” at one point. And caught up in all the excitement, McCartney makes a mistake and sings “Desmond stays at home and does his pretty face” in the final verse when it should be Molly. Through all his efforts of trying to make the song perfect, he hilariously slips up. But again, all adds to the charm.

“Ob-La-Di…” has been in a few “Worst Song Ever” lists over the years. I could see why. Guess people just don’t like songs that are too happy and too silly and probably don’t have much substance. But I’m not one of those people. Get those lists out of here. I think in the past there may have been some anti-bias against it due to John Lennon labelling it as the ‘granny shit’ that McCartney had seemed to be churning out in those years. But damn, I’ll sing the damn bassline or those ‘la-la-la’ backing chorus vocals any time of day. Is it my favorite Beatles song? Let’s not go that far. But it makes me feel good when I listen to it, and that’s what all of my favourite songs do. So if you want some fun, take Ob-La-Di-Bla-Da, heeeeeeey.

#957: The Beatles – Nowhere Man

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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)

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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.