The Best Beatles Album Part 6

 Revolver - Released 8/5/1966

In April of 1966, riding the momentum of their trailblazing album Rubber Soul, the group moved once more into the studio to begin recording their next album.  George Martin said the thing he admired most about them was that they didn't rest on their laurels.  No matter how successful the previous album, they were prepared to leap forward and change everything around, and try anything new.  As they began working on this, Paul McCartney stated that, in May, he was floored by the release of the Beach Boys' celebrated album Pet Sounds.  Seeing them incorporate studio sophistication and innovation that made the Beatles seem almost dated by comparison, McCartney realized they would have to push and push fast to stay ahead of the changes they were inspiring across the music industry.  And it wasn't just the Beach Boys abandoning their surf and sun reputation to go full experimental.  Michell Cohen notes that "mid 1966 was the most vigorous period of pop expressionism and innovation in history."  Record stores abounded with a growing tidal wave of experimental and pioneering albums, such as Sunshine Superman, The Kink Kontroversy, Fifth Dimension (by the Byrds), and Daydream by the Lovin' Spoonful, to name just a handful.  McCartney, and to an extent the other three, felt to stay relevant they would need to shove the barriers out of the way and push the recording industry to the limits. As musicologist Wilfrid Mellers noted, this was the period when the Beatles moved the recording industry from merely being a means to an end, and made it an essential part of the artistic process of recorded music. And from there, by extension, they moved pop music into the realm of artform. 

Paul McCartney, notebook in hand, attends a music seminar at the Italian Institute

By now the high noon of Beatlemania had passed, and their decision to stop touring was largely made.  Their lack of growth as an organization left them behind in the touring world.  Playing stadiums, it was still them and a handful of friends and roadies who would put up and take down the equipment, or move stage equipment around when needed, or even carry their own luggage.  The sparce sound systems meant that, in most cases, the large venues were just noisy scream-fests with little music able to be heard.  At times their act looked no different than it did in the Cavern Club, where Brian Epstein first discovered them.  They were merely in front of tens of thousands of fans.  Plus, with albums like Revolver and Rubber Soul, it was clear they could no longer pretend to play their music on stage.  How does one play Yellow Submarine or Tomorrow Never Knows on stage in 1966?  Answer: you don't.  At the end of the day, the growing sophistication and professionalism of their records was making it impossible to maintain that original raw onstage energy from their earlier years.  They were eager to settle down and focus entirely on expanding the art of recorded music.  Revolver would demonstrate that like no other album to date. 

The most successful songwriting team of the 20th Century

"Although 'Eleanor Rigby' was far from the first pop song to deal with death and loneliness, according to music historian Ian MacDonald, it "came as quite a shock to pop listeners in 1966". It took a bleak message of depression and desolation, written by a famous pop group, with a sombre, almost funeral-like backing, to the number one spot of the pop charts."

For its part, Revolver is often called their best album because it is both the most Beatles-like and not Beatles-like album of their catalogue.  The aforementioned Tomorrow Never Knows marked the cusp of recording capabilities in late 1966.  Upon hearing a demo of it, Bob Dylan is reported to have said 'So you don't want to be cute anymore, huh?'  Snark aside, he saw that the Beatles were ready to move on.  And other offerings from the album demonstrate that fact.  Songs such as And Your Bird Can Sing, For No One or Good Day Sunshine sound more like the professional output of A list artists and professional songwriters and producers than anything the Beatles or any other rock musicians had produced by that point.  Likewise, beyond Tomorrow Never Knows, you had Yellow Submarine, the Indian inspired Love You To, and another celebrated orchestral tune, Eleanor Rigby.  The rest of the songs are equally strong, with the love balled Here, There and Everywhere easily competing with the best love ballads from the time.  It is also noteworthy that on this album, George Harrison was beginning to come into his own with three songs written by him.  Because of the maturity, the innovations, the quality and the professional output emanating from the music, I'm inclined to agree with those who say this, more than any other Beatles album, deserves to be named their best. 

Honorable Mention: Yellow Submarine (Soundtrack) -  Released 1/13/1969

This is a strange one.  If you include this album in the lists, then it is the one album produced by the Beatles that didn't go to #1.  Yet it really isn't a Beatles album.  At least not in the sense that their other albums were Beatles albums.  As stated earlier, by 1968 everyone - including the press - could see that the wheels were starting to come off the Beatles bus.  Ringo and George were already married, Jon was involved with Yoko, and Paul was beginning his relationship with Linda Eastman, later Linda McCartney.  Beyond all the other riffs and bickering, clearly they were beginning to feel the tug of domestic life and moving on.  As a result, the old energy and drive to keep the band going was fading.   Brian had died, and the music world was exploding with new acts and talent on an almost daily basis. Staying ahead of an ever growing pack isn't easy when other priorities are emerging. Hence1968 was the year when almost all of them began to realize the end was approaching.  Until the end of that year, Hey Jude was the only significant release from the group.  Except for this strange movie that was inspired by the second to last song on Side A of Revolver.  The song Yellow Submarine was a strange musical production that tapped into George Martin's haversack of resources from both classical and novelty recording.  It was inspired by a dream John had of a submarine chasing Ringo down the street.  Talks began about adapting it for an animated movie some time later.  The movie continued to draw on the psychedelia fad that by 1968 was all the rage.  In truth, the Beatles themselves had little to do with the film.  They didn't even provide the voices for their own animated characters.  A few songs, mostly songs already recorded but not yet released, were given to the soundtrack album.  Only a couple were written specifically for this project.   Much of the movie was filled with songs from previous albums that fit within the movie's 'storyline' - a bizarre brew involving blue meanies, snapping turtle Turks, the terrible flying glove, and the disturbingly drawn Mr. Boob, the Nowhere Man.  Despite its strangeness (or perhaps because of - it was 1968 after all), the movie was well received by both fans and critics.  Not a blockbuster or as successful as their first two films, it nonetheless helped - along with Hey Jude - to win back the good will they had somewhat squandered in previous months.  The movie's soundtrack album was released in January, 1969.   It went to #2 on the US album charts.  Again, most songs were either already released or merely thrown in from earlier work.  Side B was all orchestrations from the movie, no Beatles songs at all.  Many critics agreed that if anything should have been an EP, it was this.  It is also the only Beatles album I don't own. 

Afterword

The Quarrymen perform at the Woolton village fête, 7/6/1957

In 1993, the year I was married, the news reported that Ivan Vaughan had died of pneumonia.  Who was Ivan Vaughan?  He was a professor of psychology at Cambridge through the 1970s, until ill health forced him to retire.  Why did his passing make news?  Not from being a professor.  Not for retiring early due to health problems.  But because of something he did when he was fifteen years old.  

At fifteen, on July 6, 1957, Ivan Vaughan invited his sixteen year old friend James (Paul) McCartney to a village fête that was happening at nearby St. Peter's Church.  McCartney wasn't particularly interested, but Ivan persisted.  Finally McCartney agreed and accompanied him to the gathering, where a couple local musical acts were performing.  One act, called The Quarrymen, was fronted by a wavy haired teenager wearing a checked shirt and playing a cheap guitar.  His name was John Winston Lennon.  Being friends of both Paul and John, Ivan introduced the two. 

Paul was immediately taken by the fact that John had the drive to form his own band at that young age.  John was taken by the fact that Paul could not only play but, being the son of a professional musician, he could also tune a guitar.  In October of that year, after several meetings and performances together, John officially invited Paul to join the band.  The rest, as they say, is history.  And it's why a relatively obscure former professor who died of pneumonia made the international news almost 40 years after that seemingly insignificant event.   

Six Years: L: c. 1963, R: the last photo session with the four together, 8/22/1969

“I tell you, Larry, there is no other band, there will never be any band like them ever … They are the best, I say to you Larry, here in 1965, that the children of 2000 will be listening to the Beatles.  And I sincerely mean that.”  Brian Epstein