So in a weird turn of events, I wrote the tracklisting before I wrote the things that wrap it together. So I’m gonna post those now and do the rest in the morning. Good evening, everyone!
Track by Track
“Taxman”: Experimenting before the first notes have even been sung, Revolver is the only Beatles album which opens with a George Harrison song. Like with Rubber Soul George is using his music to explore the political, here expressing his anger at the tax incentives of Britain at the time, calling out PM Harold Wilson and opposition leader Edward Heath by name. Whilst one might think that the economic quarrels of a multimillionaire is a little hard to feel sympathy for, even a hippy-dippy liberal thinks that 95% (“one for you, nineteen for me”) is a little shitty. It also helps this song is both hard hitting, with sharp jarring chords, and remarkably entertaining, even including some comical interpolations of the Batman TV series. But even in a showcase for George, Paul gets his time to shine with a Motown inspired bassline that shows his gift for melody, just like “I Saw Her Standing There” did for the band’s very first album. And considering the countdown that opens this album, I presume that isn’t a complete accident.
“Eleanor Rigby”: From the righteous in the political to the tragedy of the mundane, Paul’s most famous contribution to Revolver, and his most important, was also the single that proved to the world that the Beatles were moving far away from the pop rock that made them iconic megastars. It’s a song that deals very explicitly with the subject of loneliness, and a woman who experienced from every part of her life from birth to grave, a story that would feel like melodrama if it wasn’t so disgustingly familiar. This is a definitely a singular achievement from Paul, showing his penchant for the classical and the empathetic as John and George moved to more solipsistic corners. But one cannot overemphasise George Martin’s achievements in bringing this song to life, ironically enough with a funeral march style arrangement that hits every beat from the glum suspended notes to stabs of strings.
“I’m Only Sleeping”: The subject of being tired, both in psychological and literal terms, is one John would constantly return to, and here he embraces that subject with a joyful bounce, stopping and starting like the shutting of eyelids. The strange distance of that acoustic guitars is a result of digital compressing, which has the feel of being caught into two different planes of reality (the bass keeping us in some semblance of reality). Considering the floating and water imagery (and the backwards guitars), many read drug euphoria into this track, but in fact this is one of the rare songs from this period that believing its a drug metaphor is reading to much into it; this is just the sound a man who loves to sleep.
“Love You To”: “Norwegian Wood” might have been the first use of a sitar in a Beatles track, but that was almost nothing compared to the piece that George himself created here. This was not a parody of Indian Classical Music, not was it really an interpretation, but a full on embrace of the culture that highlighted it to the pop masses (also bringing practitioners such as tabla player Anil Bhagwat on for the ride). This is a music that had become an integral part of George’s life, and so to that importance is integral to the song, acting as both a love song to his then wife Patty Boyd, his experiences with drugs and his new burgeoning philosophies on life (“A lifetime is so short/ A new one can’t be bought/ But what you’ve got means such a lot to me”)
“Here, There and Everywhere”: As mentioned before, Brian Wilson was so inspired by Rubber Souls that it resulted in the creation of Pet Sounds, and in turn was “God Only Knows”. By all accounts this is Paul McCartney’s favourite song of all time, and this is said to be his emotional (and competitive) response to Brian Wilson. While in comparison to what may be, in my opinion, the most perfect pop song ever written, any song would look inferior by comparison, this is still a delightful and romantic track that relaxes the senses after such overt experimentation. This relaxation is particularly odd as its a quite busy track, with lots of chord work and lush harmonies going on over delicate guitar playing.
“Yellow Submarine”: I wonder if its objective to write about a song you know for a fact you’ve listened to since you were in the crib? Well I won’t be doing any reviews “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” any time soon, so this will do! In an album that has “Tomorrow Never Knows” and “Eleanor Rigby”, it’s nice that The Beatles include an absurdist singalong to lighten the moon. But they don’t let that premise mean they can do less experimentation, with sound effects from tape recordings coming from George Martin’s time at The Goon Show. The song was written specifically for Ringo by Paul, and that also means he plays into his amiable and “everyman” persona (though here not in a deprecating way). There is also plethora of people who contribute to the backing vocals, such as Rolling Stone’s Brian Jones, included along with a bass drum by Mal Evans as he led everyone in the studio in the time on a massive conga line. That must have been a fun studio to work in.
“She Said She Said”: Each side of Revolver ends with an overtly psychedelic track, ones which explore the concepts of drugs, death and exploration of the mind. This one is the least well known of the two, but might also be one of the most overlooked tracks on Revolver. Based on a strange incident John had with Peter Fonda whilst on acid, other than being a cool sentence, inspired John to write a song that used the sentences from that conversation, one’s that conflate birth and the grave (“She said I know what it’s like to be dead” is one hell of an opening line), as well as relationships and nostalgia. Hitting some big emotions there, ones met with guitar licks that just ooze cool, and also some of the most complex and neglected drum work of Ringo’s career (up there with “Rain” and “Day in the Life”). Also props to George for the great bass work he brings to this track, apparently after Paul walked off in a tiffy. Even before the tensions would get particularly heated, you put that many singular creative voices into one role and there’s almost bound to be some arguing.
“Good Day Sunshine”: Side Two bubbles into life with rumbling piano notes and the large crash of cymbals. The great R.E.M lyric and composer Leonard Bernstein once specifically praised this track, which makes sense considering how much it plays like a tune for a old times musical. Not just in the overall optimistic feel of Pauls lyrics and vocals, but in the overall swagger of the clapping (in odd syncopation) and pianos, played both by Paul and by George for the solo (which gives the song the feel of an old western saloon). The end loops and key change make it feel as though we leaving a dream. Or maybe the day is just that good.
“And Your Bird Can Sing”: Where “She Said She Said”, the previous electric guitar composition by John, felt very free flowing, this feels tight and controlled, every note of Paul and George’s dual guitars ascending and descending with completely precision. This is among the more cryptic songs on the album, but personally I see this as more insular version of “Can’t Buy Me Love”, where even possessions and exploring the world can cleanse aspects of the soul. This certainly wouldn’t be the last time they made a metaphor from birds!
“For No One”: At this point Paul was the band member most willing to explore classical influences, and this very much apparent in this baroque pop piece led by clavichord and punctuated by beautiful French Horns. The French Horn is said to be one of the hardest instruments in the world to play, so props to the late Alan Civil, a most prominent member of the Abbey Road orchestra, for being to blow the notes that high. My only criticism of this song is that it’s too short. So really, the best criticism.
“Doctor Robert”: This song ends up being one of the oddest sounding tracks on the album just by how normal it sounds compared to the rest. This is for the most a twelve bar blues number, one about an anonymous who can heal any ailment, which when you think about the idea of psychedelia exploring the mind and body makes a kind of thematic sense. The biggest things that bring any semblance of psychedelia on this song though are the organ notes in the chorus, and those progressive double tracking systems that I’ve neglected to mention at this point, so I will do so here.
“I Want to Tell You”: The final George Harrison song on this album is also another one dedicated to his love, but this one sounds much less confident. The beat doesn’t seem to follow suit, with galloping piano chords and high pitched harmonies, but the second part of each verse has clashing notes and chords that feel like worry pulling at the heartstrings. It’s odd to think that, a year before the official “Summer of Love”, the band that would go on to optimise that moment in time were writing lyrics like “But if I seem to act unkind/ It’s only me, it’s not my mind/ That is confusing things”.
“Got To Get You Into My Life”: I always thought that a lot of Paul McCartney would soundtrack the sequence to a movie set in Las Vegas, late at night, with the Neon Lights on bright and a gang of people in a limi looking at the promenade. Well, in this song, Paul is popping out of the sun roof and throwing dollar bills. The drums are swinging, the trumpets are shrieking, and Paul screams out with a complete confidence, almost to the point of cockiness. I don’t think the stereo release shows this song in the best light, but in mono form that chorus is one of the high points of the entire album.
“Tomorrow Never Knows”: The album ends on its big note. It’s the song that everyone knows from this record, its most overtly important contribution, and the point where for many older listeners and Don Drapers of the world pop music suddenly became alien. Inspired by both the work of Stockhausen and the drones of Indian Classical music, this song combines tape loops and backwards instruments to give us John’s closest approximation of what it is to experience psychedelic drugs, or as its first more obvious title said, “The Void”. And all those things might have been insufferable to hear about this song, on paper, if this didn’t just sound completely amazing. A Top Five Beatles Classic, the closest thing to a instrumental melody this song has actually comes from Ringo’s drum loops, which would go on to influence people going up to at least the Chemical Brothers. And then there’s John’s vocals, with a delivery that doesn’t seem to resemble and kind of human speech pattern, and all but forces you to experience this trip with him. And he indeed achieves that. As he had done the last thirteen.
The Beatles Album Rankings
- Revolver
- Rubber Soul
- A Hard Day’s Night
- Beatles for Sale
- Please Please Me
- Help!
- With the Beatles