John Lennon

Revolver Deep Dive Part 9: And Your Bird Can Sing

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Side Two, Track Two

In Which “You Don’t Get Me” becomes “And Your Bird Can Sing”

by Jude Southerland Kessler and Erin Torkleson Weber

 

This month, our Fest Blog continues our in-depth study of Revolver with a song that has “more than meets the eye.” It’s John Lennon’s enigmatic “And Your Bird Can Sing,” a track full of vitriolic lyrics, incredible musicianship, and controversy about “who did what.”

 

Joining Jude Southerland Kessler, author of The John Lennon Series this month to explore this song is the highly respected author Erin Torkelson Weber.  A graduate of Newman University and Wichita State, after completing her graduate degree, Erin Weber began teaching American History part time at Newman University. Looking for a new, more modern subject to appeal to students in her senior seminar and research classes, Erin, a Beatles fan since childhood, began researching the band’s historiography. In 2016 McFarland published her work The Beatles and the Historians: An Analysis of Writings About the Fab Four, which examines the historical methodology and historiographical arc of the Beatles story. In addition, Erin helps run a blog, “The Historian and the Beatles,” which provides book reviews and source analysis of various Beatles works: she also co-hosts “All Together Now,” a podcast with Karen Hooper, and has guest starred on numerous other podcasts. Erin is a beloved member of our Fest Family, and we welcome her to the blog!

 

What’s Standard:

 

Date Recorded: 20 April 1966 

Time recorded: 2.30 p.m. – 2.30 a.m. (Note: Lewisohn points out that also recorded on this long day in studio were 4 rhythm track takes of “Taxman.”)

Technical Team:

Producer: George Martin

Sound Engineer: Geoff Emerick

Second Engineer: Phil MacDonald (Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions, 75)

 

On this day: A backing track was created with Ringo on his 1964 Ludwig Oyster Black Pearl “Super Classic” drum set and George on his 1965 Rickenbacker 360 12-string electric. There is a second guitarist, and the identity of that person has been questioned and debated through the years. In The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, Hammack states that it was “either Lennon on his 1961 Fender Stratocaster with synchronized tremolo or McCartney on his Epiphone ES-230TD, Casino electric guitar with Selmer Bigsby B7 vibrato.” (p. 125) Hammack notes that when George Harrison was quizzed about who performed on the second guitar by Guitar Player magazine in 1987, Harrison admitted that he didn’t know the answer. Hammack says that he feels “Lennon’s aggressive count-in indicates him as the guitarist,” but there is no conclusive proof. On this same track, John and Paul also sang on the backing vocals. (Hammack, 125)

 

Two takes were performed. Take Two was deemed “best.”

 

Then, superimpositions followed:

McCartney performed on his 1964 Rickenbacker 4001S bass

Harrison performed a guitar solo on one of 3 guitars he had in studio

Starr performed on tambourine

Paul and John double-tracked the backing vocals. The harmonies in the backing vocals are quite intricate and of note. This often-overlooked song has many layers.

 

Date Reworked: 26 April 1966

Location for both sessions: EMI, Studio Two

Time recorded: 2.30 p.m. – 2.45 a.m.

 

Technical Team:

Producer: George Martin

Sound Engineer: Geoff Emerick

Second Engineer: Phil McDonald (Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions, 76)

 

On this day: The Beatles decide to completely remake “And Your Bird Can Sing.” In 11 takes, (which are numbered 3-13) The Beatles create a completely new backing track. Hammack tells us that “Lennon [is] either on his Fender Stratocaster or his Epiphone ES-230TD, Casino electric guitar, Harrison [is] again on [his] Rickenbacker 360-12 electric guitar, McCartney [is] on his Rickenbacker 4001S bass, and Starr is on his Ludwig drums. (Hammack, 126)

 

Takes 6 and 10 were selected as “best.” Superimpositions included:

Ringo on tambourine

Ringo on high-hat and cymbals

 

Eventually, Take 10 would be chosen as “best,” but Paul’s bass work on Take 6 would still be dubbed as the best. So, these elements were blended.

 

Once again, the harmony lead guitar work is questioned. There is no doubt that Harrison performed. But no one knows for sure if Lennon or McCartney accompanied him.

 

As the last order of business, Hammack tells us, “Finally, John added his lead vocals with McCartney and Harrison on backing vocals and hand claps (all recorded with frequency control (varispeed) at slower than normal tape speed, on playback sounding around half a semitone higher in pitch.)” (The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, p. 127)

 

***See Jerry Hammack’s The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, 125-128 for more information.

 

Other Valuable Sources: Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions, 75 and 77 , Lewisohn, The Complete Beatles Chronicle, 218 and 219, Winn, That Magic Feeling, 12-13 and 14-15,Lennon, Cynthia, A Twist of Lennon, 128, Rodriguez, Revolver: How The Beatles Reimagined Rock’n’Roll, 89 and 123-126, Robertson, The Art and Music of John Lennon, 54-55, Gould, 360, Spizer, The Beatles for Sale on Parlophone Records, 215, Spizer, The Beatles Rubber Soul to Revolver, 219, Turner, Beatles ’66, 159-161, Turner, A Hard Day’s Write, 111-112,  Margotin and Guesdon, 340-341, Davies, The Beatles Lyrics, 169-171, Spignesi and Lewis, 79-80, Riley, Tell Me Why, 192-193, MacDonald, Revolution in the Head, 159, Womack, Long and Winding Roads (2007 edition), 143-144, Womack, The Beatles Encyclopedia, 36-37, Hammack, The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, 125-128, and Mellers, Twilight of the Gods, 76.

 

A Fresh New Look:

 

Jude Southerland Kessler: Erin, the recording of “And Your Bird Can Sing” took two long days of studio work – 13 takes! Yet, in The Beatles Anthology, John Lennon categorizes “And Your Bird Can Sing” as “one of my throwaways.” This is a typical Lennon “tell,” a phrase he consistently uses to characterize songs that reveal too much emotion, leaving him vulnerable. John applies the epithet to 1965’s “It’s Only Love,” which explores the deepening rift in his relationship with Cynthia. He applies it to “Run for Your Life,” a song that lays bare his jealously and feelings of inadequacy. (He told David Sheff that only after his Primal Scream therapy was he able to write a song openly about these feelings: “Jealous Guy.”) Is it possible that John is rebuffing other deep-seated emotions in this song as well?

 

Erin Torkleson Weber: A “throwaway” song would presumably come across as (by Beatles standards, anyway) formulaic and relatively unremarkable, and “And Your Bird Can Sing” is neither. John’s ex post facto dismissal of its significance (he criticized it several times after the band’s breakup, both in 1971 and 1980) doesn’t erode the song’s lyrical bite and sharp edges, which appear to offer a glimpse into John wanting, for lack of a better term, “top billing” from someone with whom he’s connected, and whose preoccupation with tangential things is apparently mucking up their connection with and understanding of the singer, John. Given what we know of John’s deep-seated, lifelong fear of abandonment, this reading of the song would make it the furthest thing from a throwaway; rather, it can be seen as an expression of insecurity and frustration at an important someone’s not prioritizing him and letting him down by not “getting” him. One of the authors to underscore this song’s possible emotional significance is Tim Riley, who notes “the implied rejection” (Riley, Tell Me Why, 192) evidenced by the snag in Lennon’s vocalization of “me.”

 

However, Riley appears to be one of the authorial exceptions. In his excellent work, Can’t Buy Me Love: The Beatles, Britain and America, Jonathan Gould describes “And Your Bird Can Sing” as “directed at an anonymous adversary,” (Gould, 359), and that adversarial component is what has drawn the most focus and encouraged significant speculation over the decades, by numerous authors, over whom John is addressing. Theories have ranged from Mick Jagger to Frank Sinatra, usually arguing that the song was provoked by Lennon’s “professional jealousy” (Gould, 360) and/or his dismissal of individuals whose pretension blinded them to true enlightenment. (Turner, Beatles’ 66: The Revolutionary Year, 160).

 

Yet these interpretations tend to ignore that, at the same time it criticizes, “And Your Bird Can Sing” also attempts to offer its subject some reassurance. “I’ll be round,” is, after all, wrapped inside the warning “you don’t get me;” a very appropriate lyrical pivot for the emotionally mercurial Lennon. This appears to indicate that, once the subject has tired of their pretentious distractions, Lennon and the song’s subject can possibly “see” one another and connect.

 

This reading of the song would certainly seem to eliminate Gould’s speculation that it was directed at Sinatra, to whom John would hardly be inclined to want to “see” or “get” him.  And Faithfull’s speculation that the song was directed at Jagger (identifying her,  Marianne, as the “bird” in the song) is purely that, speculation. (Rodriguez, Revolver: How the Beatles Reimagined Rock’n’Roll, 89). This overall reading of the song inevitably leads us to the question: Whom did Lennon feel, during this point in the Revolver sessions, wasn’t understanding him or prioritizing him the way he needed? That’s a level of lyrical analysis that’s above my historian’s paygrade, but a fascinating question to ask, particularly given John’s latter strong dismissal of the song.

 

Kessler: Erin, as a follow-up question… In the wake of his successful volumes, In His Own Write and A Spaniard in the Works, John had contracted with Jonathan Cape Publishers to write a third book to be released in February 1966. And writing was important to John. Indeed, when asked by Kenneth Allsop which profession he would prefer if he could choose between writing songs or writing books, John immediately chose writing books. He told Allsop he’d been doing that long before he became a Beatle. However, by the end of 1965, John admitted that he had only one poem prepared for the upcoming book, and so, he abandoned the idea of publishing again. Of course, John’s unrelenting schedule in 1965 must have had a great deal to do with that decision. But, do you think it’s possible that songs such as “And Your Bird Can Sing” gradually supplanted John’s need to write emotional, soul-revealing poetry and prose?

 

Weber: This is an excellent question, because it offers a chance to delve into issues regarding John’s creative process, and how that process was impacted by external and internal factors. What’s interesting about John’s schedule in 1965 is that you can make the argument his earlier schedules from the years when he wrote In His Own Write, published in 1964, and A Spaniard in the Works, which was published in June of 1965, were equally frantic. Why would this demanding schedule only begin to slow down his literary productivity by the end of 1965, when it hadn’t seriously impacted it before? Having said that, you can certainly argue that it was the cumulative effect of what had been, at that point, approximately three years of an unrelenting schedule, frantic pace, and constant demands of new songwriting material that played a role in preventing John from producing his third book.

 

We can speculate on any number of reasons, in addition to his frantic schedule, as to why John ultimately didn’t produce his third book. John told Allsop that he preferred writing books to writing songs, but the reality is that contractual and studio demands unquestioningly and unrelentingly prioritized song writing. So did the band’s group ethos and his competitive partnership with Paul.

 

Additionally, the argument that John’s realization that he could use song lyrics, such as those in “And Your Bird Can Sing,” to express the emotions previously and primarily expressed in his poems, letters and cartoons is a convincing one. In The Art and Music of John Lennon, John Robertson notes how Lennon’s “prose and verse writing had once been a form of exorcism,” (Robertson, 50) but argues that the lyrical example of Bob Dylan, coupled with the sonic possibilities in the studio, essentially allowed John to exorcise these elements through songwriting in a way that he had never previously considered or been able to accomplish.

 

Finally, we have to note that this use of self-revealing lyrics, replacing the old outlets of poetry and prose, corresponded with John’s initial exposure to and use of LSD. Robertson discusses how Lennon’s LSD use seriously influenced his writing and also argues that, in contrast to “the more fixed medium of prose,” songwriting allowed Lennon to express “these vague, shifting feelings” created by the aforementioned LSD use. (Robertson, 50)

 

Kessler: To conclude, what’s your reaction to this song, Erin? Does it speak to you in any way? Musically? Lyrically? Emotionally?

 

Weber: For me, “And Your bird Can Sing” is an excellent case study of how our connections and reactions to songs can shift with time and experience. As a bookish, four-eyed, awkward pre-teen with only a few (but amazing, essential, now lifelong) friends, every time I heard “And Your Bird Can Sing” on my dad’s Beatles tapes, I heard it as an indictment of the “cool” crowd in my middle school: fellow preteens so obsessed with wearing the right pair of brand-name sneakers that anyone, no matter how smart or funny or warm or generous, who didn’t meet their superficial standards was shunned or teased: “You say you’ve seen the seven wonders…but you don’t see me.” It went both ways, too: in my mind, if you were the sort of individual who cared so much about such trivial, adolescent status symbols that you couldn’t bother to look beneath the surface in order to know the person underneath, I didn’t want to waste my time attempting to get to know you, either.

 

Decades later, and (thankfully) well removed from middle school, I have a deep appreciation for the song’s lack of sentimentality. “And Your Bird Can Sing” is a song about attempting, and failing, to connect with someone. This is a feeling to which almost everyone can relate. Yet there’s no self-pity in it, and no sentimentality. I’m not a musician, or a musicologist, but my interpretation is that every other musical aspect of the song – the strident guitars, the edge in John’s voice – serves the song well. Its blend of warning over how prioritizing the wrong things – “prized possessions” – has damaged a point of connection between two people, combined with the singer’s frustration at feeling unseen and unheard, makes it relatable. Connections between people can and do fray, and while they can be patched, this song lays bare how it feels when that distance starts to occur.

 

What’s Changed:

 

Generally, this segment of the Fest blog precedes the “Fresh, New Look” interview. However, Erin Weber’s responses were so integral to the information in the following section that for this month, we’ve shifted things around. The aspect of “And Your Bird Can Sing” that has changed most over the years is the presumed identity of the protagonist, the “you” in this song. There have been many theories and suggestions proffered. Based on 37 years of study of John’s life and personality, I’m postulating yet another theory. Fifty-nine years after the song’s composition, however, no one can conclusively prove John’s intent.  – Jude

 

As historian Erin Torkleson Weber so adeptly pointed out, Beatles experts and biographers have, over the years, offered myriad suggestions about the identity of the person to whom this song addressed. Others have claimed that they were the subjects of the song, although they can’t explain why Lennon was so annoyed with them. Marianne Faithfull, for example – as Erin indicates – swore the song was about her, claiming John’s jealousy toward Mick Jagger and herself. But Faithfull’s claim falls flat when we discover that 1) John genuinely liked Mick Jagger and 2) John wrote this song before Marianne and Mick were even “an item.”

 

Cynthia Lennon, who once gave John the gift of a wind-up songbird, thought the song was directed at her and said so in her first book, A Twist of Lennon (p. 128). But when we closely examine the lyrics, Cynthia meets none of the criteria to be the song’s protagonist. Cynthia had only traveled a limited number of times and all of those excursions were taken with her husband: to Ireland, Paris, Tahiti, and America for The Beatles’ Feb. 1964 visit. (Her visit to India was yet to transpire.) Cynthia had never visited exotic locations or seen “Seven Wonders.” Additionally, she knew very little about sound and music, and most crucially, she certainly didn’t have everything she wanted. John’s lyrics simply don’t fit Cynthia’s profile.

 

Lately, a YouTube video from James Hargreaves (which is well-presented) offers up Frank Sinatra as the song’s possible protagonist because Sinatra edged out The Beatles for The Grammy’s “Album of the Year” award in 1965 with the LP, September of My Life – and because Sinatra intensely disliked The Beatles and said so.

 

However, John and Paul had never “given a whit” for gold records, titles, or honors. By the summer of 1965, John had quit attending the Ivor Novello Awards. All of The Beatles complained about appearing at innumerable gold record ceremonies. In fact, in August of 1965, when compelled to attend the celebratory cocktail party given for them by Capitol Records president, Alan Livingston, George flatly refused to attend; Paul left early, and John departed not long after Paul. Such laudatory proceedings had become tedious.

 

All The Beatles really wanted to do was make great music. And as they returned to EMI in October of 1965 to create what would become Rubber Soul, they were inspired (and not threatened) by American competitors such as The Lovin’ Spoonful and the Byrds. In fact, the more talented their competitors (The Stones, the Byrds, the Beach Boys), the more The Beatles respected and liked them!

 

Frank Sinatra hardly registered on The Beatles’ radar. If the performer didn’t appreciate their hair or their style or even their personalities…well, who cared? Yet the tone of “And Your Bird Can Sing” is anything but milquetoast. It is angry. Very angry. John Lennon is singing to someone who really matters to him. Indeed, it appears that John is speaking directly to someone he knows – someone close to him whom he feels has betrayed his trust. We know this is the case because, as Erin pointed out, John vows in the bridge that no matter how cruel the person is to him,

 

“Look in my direction,

I’ll be ’round; I’ll be ’round.”

 

In other words, John has no intention of turning his back on the offender. Despite perceived disloyalty demonstrated by his former friend, John promises that he will always be there.

So, who is the protagonist of this song? John supplies numerous (though cryptic) clues to the betrayer’s identity:

  • The person has “everything he wants.” (The protagonist is well-to-do: living in a chic locale and driving a prized car, making headlines and rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, succeeding in a powerful career.)
  • The person has “seen Seven Wonders.” ( In other words, the individual is well-traveled: having seen the world from the Spanish Riviera to the width and breadth of North America to exotic Hong Kong, New Zealand, and Australia. In John’s eyes, this person has seen it all, done it all. The protagonist is far more cosmopolitan than John, more polished and experienced.)
  • The person purports to “have heard every sound there is.” (This tidbit clues us into the fact that the individual in question is, quite possibly, part of the music industry. However, John’s legendary sarcasm here hangs on two words: “you say.” John is smirking as he hisses, “You say you’re a music expert. You say you’ve heard every sound there is.” We get the feeling that the individual to whom John is singing has made unwelcome suggestions to John about his own compositions or performances.)
  • The person has quirky, idiomatic tastes. (Well, after all, his bird is green…which leads us to perceive him as exotic and singular for his day.)
  • Finally (and most significantly), this individual is extremely important to John. In fact, according to the lyrics, at an earlier point in their relationship, John wrongly assumed this person, “got him,” “understood him,” “heard him,” and “saw him.” Now, in the sunless backlash born of faithlessness, John is striking out with a lacerating verbal attack.

 

Who fits this five-point profile?

 

Who had a very intimate relationship with John – so deep that he shared John’s secrets and trusted John with his own? Who had been so close to John that it was rumored by mutual associates such as Yankel Feather and Joe Flannery that a possible love affair might exist between the two? Who had been John’s advocate before possessions, world travels, the myriad demands of business, and the intricate web of power struggles set in? If your answer is “Brian Epstein,” then we’re on the same page.

 

It is the reference to the “green bird” that really highlights Brian’s identity for us. In Liverpool’s Scouse lingo, a “baird” is a term for a girl or a girlfriend. And “to swing,” in the 1960s, meant “to step out from the norm sexually.” Thus, John’s reference to his friend’s unusual “green bird” – a bird who “swings” – was, in all likelihood, a bitter Lennonistic dig at Brian’s gay relationships. Indeed, on The Anthology version of this song, when Paul and John sing, “and your bird can swing,” they snicker naughtily at their sly double entendre.

 

If we agree that John is, in fact, addressing Brian in this song, a second question immediately arises: What would have caused John to become angry enough with Brian that he penned this attack – a song only slightly less hostile than “How Do You Sleep?”

 

By 1966, John ached to stop touring. All of The Beatles did. And although they had expressed that sentiment to Brian over and over again, he completely ignored them. While this was frustrating for Paul and George, it seemed a personal wound for John.

 

In December of 1961 – upon assuming management of The Beatles – Brian had pledged to Mimi Smith that no matter what happened to the other boys, he would always protect John. He had vowed to work tirelessly to defend her nephew’s best interests. But now, John feels that Brian has stopped putting him first. Consumed with what John has decided is a desire for wealth, fame, and power, Brian (John thinks) is pushing The Beatles too hard – callously demanding new films, tours, singles and LPs, interviews, radio shows, television programmes, and personal appearances. And once upon a time, Brian had promised better.

 

Hence, John lashes out with real invective, linking each verse with the string of repeating accusations. “You don’t hear me!” “You don’t see me!” “You don’t get me!” John sees Brian’s refusal to address his needs as a broken vow, an infidelity.

 

This song, therefore, fits snugly into the “broken relationships” theme of Revolver. Originally entitled, “You Don’t Get Me!” this song shatters the giddy mood of “Good Day Sunshine.”  Track Two of Side One gave us “Eleanor Rigby.” Here comparably, in Track Two of Side Two, John and Brian are “the lonely people,” standing in a church of abandoned promises, surrounded by memories from May of 1963, when they vacationed together for 10 days on the Spanish Riviera or September 1963 when they spent happy days alone together in Paris. During those times, John and Brian had formed a bond born of shared vulnerabilities rarely voiced to anyone else. They had reached out to one another in mutual trust. Now, a mere three years later, John is spewing fury over the perceived perversion of that trust as Brian steadily continues to insist upon the course he feels The Beatles must follow.

 

For the wounded John Lennon, having “everything you want,” “seeing Seven Wonders,” “knowing every sound there is,” and even owning an exotic green, swinging bird means nothing if, in the process of garnering such success, you sacrifice friendship. Frustrated and fuming, but promising to “be ’round” when Brian finally hears him, sees him, and gets him once again, John is hanging on. However, the unresolved chord at the end of this song reminds us that in the future, anything can happen.

Sadly, by August of 1967, anything did happen. Fame exacted its price. And the birdsong fell silent.

 

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Revolver Deep Dive Part 7: She Said She Said

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Revolver

Side One, Track Six

“She Said She Said”

 

by Jude Southerland Kessler and Christine Feldman-Barrett

 

Through 2023, the Fest for Beatles Fans blog has been enjoying some time well spent with the songs on The Beatles brilliant LP, Revolver. This month, Christine Feldman-Barrett joins Jude Southerland Kessler, the author of The John Lennon Series, for a fresh, new look at one of the most beloved Beatles tracks of all time. Christine Feldman-Barrett is a youth culture historian and Beatles scholar.

 

Originally from the United States, she is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Humanities, Languages and Social Science at Griffith University in Queensland, Australia. She is the author of A Women’s History of the Beatles, which was published with Bloomsbury in 2021 and was awarded the 2022 Open Publication Prize by the Australia-New Zealand branch of the International Association for the Study of Popular Music (IASPM). Her other publications include “We are the Mods”: A Transnational History of a Youth Subculture (Peter Lang, 2009) and – as editor – Lost Histories of Youth Culture (Peter Lang, 2015) and The Life, Death, and Afterlife of the Record Store: A Global History (Bloomsbury, 2023). Feldman-Barrett and her work have been featured in the Washington Post, the Guardian, the BBC, and ABC radio Australia. She has appeared as a guest on numerous Beatles podcasts and is on the editorial board of The Journal of Beatles Studies, which is published by Liverpool University Press. And best of all, Christine will be at the New York Fest for Beatles Fans, 9-11 February 2024! Come meet her in person!!!

 

 

What’s Standard:

 

Dates Recorded: 21 June 1966

Time Recorded: 7.00 p.m. – 3.45 a.m.

Studio: EMI Studios, Studio 2

Tech Team:

Producer: George Martin

Engineer: Geoff Emerick

Second Engineer: Phil McDonald

 

 In Studio 2, The Beatles worked for 9 (number 9!) hours to record this final song for the Revolver LP. “She Said She Said” came into the session unnamed and unrehearsed. Through 25 takes, the boys assembled all the elements and honed the song. The rhythm track of Take 3 was deemed “best” and onto this, John superimposed his lead vocal…and John and George dubbed in their backing vocals. As Mark Lewisohn explains in The Beatles Recording Sessions, “A reduction mix vacated one of the four tracks where an additional guitar and organ part (played by John) were soon taped.” (p. 84) The role of Paul and the bass line heard on this song will be discussed in the “What’s Changed” segment of this blog.

 

Instrumentation and Musicians:*

John Lennon, the composer, is playing either his 1961 Fender Stratocaster or his 1965 Epiphone ES-230 TD, Casino.

Paul McCartney says he did not sing or play an instrument on this track. (See “What’s Changed”)But many sources still list him as providing the bass on his Rickenbacker 4001S before having an argument with one or more of The Beatles and walking out of the session.

George Harrison is playing either his 1961 Fender Stratocaster with synchronized tremolo, his 1964 Gibson SG Standard with Gibson Maestro Vibrato, or his 1965 Epiphone ES-230TD, Casino with Selmer Bigsby B7 vibrato.

Ringo Starr is playing his 1964 Ludwig Oyster Black Pearl “Super Classic” drum set.

*This information is from Hammack’s The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, 154.

 

Sources: Lewisohn, The Complete Beatles Chronicle, 226, Lewisohn, The Beatles: The Recording Sessions, 84, The Beatles, The Anthology, 209, Margotin and Guesdon, All the Songs, 336-337, Winn, That Magic Feeling, 27-28, Womack, Long and Winding Roads, 142-143, Hammack, The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, 154-156, Rodriguez, Revolver: How The Beatles Reimagined Rock’n’Roll, 149-151,  Turner, A Hard Day’s Write, 111, Davies, The Beatles Lyrics, 164-165, Miles, Many Years From Now, 288, Spizer, The Beatles for Sale on Parlophone Records, 215, Spizer, The Beatles Rubber Soul to Revolver, 219, MacDonald, Revolution in the Head, 168-169, Mellers, Twilight of the Gods, 75-6, Spignesi and Lewis, 100 Best Beatles Songs,186-188, Spitz, 581, and Riley, Tell Me Why, 188-189.

 

What’s Changed:

 

  1. Experimentation with Meter – A month ago, if someone had asked me which Beatle most experimented with meter and tempo changes, I would have swiftly responded, “Oh, Paul McCartney.” But as it turns out, that is not true. Here are the songs in which John Lennon experimented with meter change: “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite,” (4/4 in the verses, 3/4 waltz in the instrumental bridge), “All You Need is Love,” (intricately alternates between 4/4 and 3/4), and “Across the Universe” (Verse One is 4/4 until it reaches the last bit of the verse, “across the universe,” and that is 5/4. Verse Four repeats almost the same thing but this time the words “way across the universe” are in 5/4.) Of course, John also employed myriad meter changes in “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” and “Happiness is a Warm Gun” (2/4, 3/4, and 4/4!!!)

 

Two of the earliest Lennon/McCartney songs to dabble in meter change were “We Can Work it Out” (recorded during 20 October 1965) and “She Said She Said” from June of 1966. As Ian MacDonald points out in Revolution in the Head, “She Said She Said” is “rhythmically one of the most irregular things Lennon ever wrote.” (p. 169) It not only features a signature change into 3/4 during the “She said, ‘You don’t understand what I said.’ I said, ‘No, no, no, you’re wrong,’” portion of the song. The disjointed, otherworldly sensation of a hazy dream state or an LSD fog – accentuated by the eerie consideration of “what it’s like to be dead” – manifests in an erratic, herky-jerky zombie-esque arrangement. Dreamlike – nightmarish, really – the strange tempo pushes and pulls, threatening to obliterate sanity. It’s a powerful tool placed alongside the unusual instrumentation and The Beatles’ vocal elements.

 

  1. Possible Limited McCartney Input – Although “She Said She Said” was the closing track for Side One of Revolver, it was actually the final song recorded for the LP. The Beatles had begun work on Revolver on Wednesday, 6 April 1966, (Lewisohn, The Beatles: The Recording Sessions, 70) and they’d been working quite closely together, hours on end for almost four months. So, it’s no surprise that on this final evening, tensions were running high. Paul recalls, “I think we’d had a barney or something, and I said, ‘Oh, fuck you!’ and they said, ‘Well, we’ll do it.’ I think George played bass.” (Margotin and Guesdon, 337) Note: In The Beatles Lyrics, Hunter Davies qualifies this by saying, “…Paul does not appear on that track, not as a singer anyway, though he might have added a bit of bass afterwards.” (p. 164)

 

However, John C. Winn in That Magic Feeling states, “Paul became the first Beatle to walk out on a session when he had an unspecified argument with the others, although not before contributing to the rhythm track.” Hammack in The Beatles Recording Reference Manual agrees, saying that on the 21st of June, “Take 3 was best, and a good thing, too, because afterwards, McCartney got in a fight with Lennon and left the studio.” (p. 154) But in Many Years From Now, Paul firmly states that he did not perform on the track: “I think it was one of the only Beatles records I never played on.” (Miles, 288) Did he, or didn’t he? This shall remain one of the great mysteries of Beatles history.

 

  1. Lyrics by Lennon and Harrison – On 21 June 1966, in an interview with Melody Maker (which would appear in the magazine on the 25th) John revealed that he still had one song to record for the new LP, but that he had only written “about three lines so far.” George Harrison recalls trekking over to Kenwood during that time frame to help John “wrap up the composition.” George recalls that he suggested John incorporate a waltz-tempo fragment of a song (“When I was a boy, everything was ri-ight/Everything was ri-ight…”) that John had formerly created and had left unused. George says they worked together to link this song fragment to the rest of “She Said She Said.” (Winn, That Magic Feeling, 27)

 

  1. A “Story” Version of Lennon’s Lifelong Theme – John insisted that while Paul wrote “songs about other things,” John mainly wrote about himself. And in “She Said She Said,” John is still focusing on his autobiographical pain: the devastation that death leaves in its wake, the chaos of sorrow and loss. However, in “She Said She Said,” John shares this torment via the story of a woman whom he supposedly encounters…a strange female who tells him that she “knows what it’s like to be dead,” that she “knows what it is to be sad” – a woman who makes him feel as if he’s “never been born.” In Twilight of the Gods, Mellers admits that this appears to be an older woman, perhaps “an aunt or mother.”

 

Indeed, although the line, “I know what it is to be dead” was inspired by a comment from Peter Fonda at a 1965 Los Angeles pool party, Fonda has nothing to do with the subject of this song. John is once again singing his heart, bemoaning the devastating loss of Julia Lennon, “the girl in a million my friend.” But here – for the first time – he is doing so in a narrative format. In this story-song, the familiar woman who rules his entire musical catalog appears as surreal: as a ghost, a spirit, or a figment of his imagination.

 

This is unique territory for John, who up to this point has stuck very closely and literally to the poignant narrative of Julia’s loss twice in his life: first, when he was separated from her in childhood and later, when as a teenager he lost her a second time, to death.  In “Help!,” “I’ll Cry Instead,” “Not A Second Time,” “(You’ve Got To) Hide Your Love Away,” “Nowhere Man,” “I’m A Loser,” “Julia,” and so many more, John consistently poured out his heartbreaking tale without imaginative embellishment. But here, the old story – no less painful in an artful form – is entangled in the bizarre trappings of a dream state. The same fears, pain, and anguish are merely housed in a unique presentation.

 

A Fresh New Look:

 

It was a joy to work “across the universe” (she, in Australia and I, in Louisiana) with Dr. Christine Feldman-Barrett to trace the musical and storyline innovations inherent in Lennon’s brilliant “She Said She Said.” Christine will be at the February 9-11, 2024 New York Fest for Beatles Fans to share her respected work on A Women’s History of The Beatles. We welcome Christine to the Fest Blog and can’t wait to hear her speak in just a few months!

 

 

Jude Southerland Kessler: “She Said She Said” has been called one of John’s most revealing biographical songs. Tim Riley in Tell Me Why states, “the singer is wrestling with feelings he barely understands – inadequacy, helplessness and a profound fear. Because Lennon so obviously feels these emotions as he plays and sings them, the music is a direct connection to his psyche.” (p. 188)  What is your reaction to this assessment?

 

Christine Feldman-Barrett: Unless someone had insider information at the time, no one in The Beatles’ audience circa 1966 would have known that the song was about one of John’s first LSD experiences – nor that that some of its lyrical content was about a ‘he,’ namely, actor Peter Fonda. Instead, what comes through in the lyrics is very much a sense of emotional confusion. That feeling is certainly key to the words of “She Said She Said.” However, there’s also an element of intellectual detachment to the narrator’s telling of this story. Unlike 1965’s “Help!,” which is lyrically direct in showcasing Lennon’s vulnerability, “She Said She Said” is very much head over heart. Needless to say, a “heady” reading of the song makes perfect sense once listeners know it’s about John Lennon taking a hallucinogenic drug.

 

The track’s psychedelic origin story aside, what’s especially interesting upon first listen is that it seems the narrator is having a deep and meaningful – if also somewhat esoteric – conversation with a woman. I don’t think I had ever encountered that kind of male-female dialogue in a song before I listened to “She Said She Said.” And though the “he said” parts of the lyrics are seemingly critical of what the woman is saying, the man in the song is nonetheless hooked into this conversation for a while (until, that is, “he’s ready to leave”). As Jacqueline Warwick states in her 2002 book chapter, “I’m Eleanor Rigby: Female Identity and Revolver,” the song seems to be about “a woman who will not stop talking and a man who doesn’t want to listen (but has difficulty tearing himself away).” (p. 61)The fact that something “she” says makes the song’s male protagonist want to question his existence was something completely different to my young ears in 1979, and it is definitely something that would have been atypical for a rock song in 1966.

 

Even when I was a child listening to this track, I liked the idea that the woman in the song – and her purpose within the lyrical story – is unusual, mysterious. She does not come across as a love interest, as would hold true for other, earlier Beatles songs or songs by other artists circa 1965 or 1966. Instead, this woman is an enigmatic character who wants to discuss life and death with her conversation partner – even if it upsets him – and even if it makes him question his entire sense of self and the world as he knows it.

 

Along these lines – with a conflict between man and woman in the lyrics – I also think about how Cynthia Lennon’s 2005 memoir John addresses how her husband’s LSD use affected their marriage. Cynthia had no interest in the drug and found it frightening while John found it profoundly life changing and affirming – maybe because it brought him out of his “known self” or challenged his sense of himself as a Beatle. In Cynthia’s estimation, however, LSD drove a wedge through their marriage (see, for example, her thoughts on this in Chapter 13 of John). If John’s perspective of himself and the world was forever altered, it created a new type of relational space in which Cynthia likely felt she no longer truly belonged.

 

Kessler: Christine, the closing song on Side One of a Beatles LP was traditionally something rather remarkable. On Please Please Me, it was the title track, “Please Please Me.” On A Hard Day’s Night, it was the Ivor Novello award-winning, “Can’t Buy Me Love.” On Help!, the closer was “Ticket to Ride.” What elements of “She Said She Said,” in your opinion, recommend it into this pivotal position on Revolver?

 

Feldman-Barrett: That’s a great question. It makes me think about how the other closing track on Revolver, “Tomorrow Never Knows,” is the one that often vies for the spot of “Best Beatles Song” (alongside “A Day in the Life”) in most rankings and lists I’ve come across. But for my money, “She Said She Said” should be near the top as well. One of the reasons it’s remarkable is because The Beatles – John first and foremost – are trying to sonically achieve something really very difficult with this song: relaying the experiences of an acid trip.

 

While we take the notion of “psychedelic rock” for granted today, the idea of replicating such a singular experience in musical form could not have felt straightforward or easy. While Lennon was able to describe to George Martin the sound and feel he wanted for “Tomorrow Never Knows” (i.e., monks chanting from atop a mountain) – and he had Paul’s tape loops to assist – how would it be possible for just guitars, drums, and vocals to aurally mirror LSD’s effects? Though I have never taken LSD myself, reading anecdotes about acid trips and having had others share their experiences of them with me, it’s clear that this song is trying to create a sonic representation of something that is often described as comprising many visual sensations and hallucinations. For example, in The Beatles as Musicians: Revolver through Anthology (1999), Walter Everett theorizes that the lead guitar’s echoing of the vocal melody throughout the song is a motif meant to intimate the visual trails that are said to occur while taking LSD. (p. 66) Moreover, the unusual and changing rhythms of the song – clearly led by Ringo’s drumming – seem to capture the oddity of time itself while tripping.

 

While all music deals with and works within time signatures, trying to get the feeling of psychedelic time distortion just right – and without the whole song falling apart – is such an interesting thing for The Beatles to have attempted here. And the fact that it’s mostly achieved through just their playing and singing – without any overt studio tricks like with “Tomorrow Never Knows” – is phenomenal. For all these reasons, “She Said She Said” definitely deserves this pivotal position on the Revolver LP.

 

Kessler: Christine, this was the final song recorded for Revolver, and Ian MacDonald says “Lennon pull[ed] off a last-minute coup with this track, going some way towards evening up the score in his on-going competition with McCartney.” (Revolution in the Head, 169) Although Paul has more songs to his credit on the LP than John does, MacDonald says, “‘She Said She Said’ is the outstanding track on Revolver.” (p. 169) Your reaction?

 

Feldman-Barrett: I absolutely agree with Ian MacDonald’s reading of “She Said She Said,” and I am always surprised when I hear Beatles aficionados dismiss it as a kind of throwaway track. I know that for some, this has to do with the claim that Paul didn’t play bass on it (though the claim is disputed). In any case, that dismissive view of this song is difficult for me to understand. Then again, I am a particular fan of The Beatles’ late ’65 to early ’67 sound, and – to me – this song typifies everything I love about that period of their music-making.

 

It’s clear that McCartney’s songs on Revolver are magnificent examples of his artistry in so many ways – and that he was really growing as a songwriter with this album – but when I think of Revolver – I tend to think of John’s songs first, with “She Said She Said” and “Tomorrow Never Knows” the two that immediately spring to mind. They are both oddly thought-provoking and memorable. While Paul’s songs on Revolver are filled with pathos and are finely crafted “story songs,” I find the otherworldly aural beauty of Lennon’s contributions more intriguing listen after listen. And of all the “John songs” on Revolver, “She Said She Said” is the ultimate earworm. Its melody is nothing short of addictive. Little wonder that MacDonald also suggests Lennon is at his creative peak with The Beatles during this time. His songs on Revolver – though fewer in number than those led by McCartney – are landmark moments in rock music history due to their sheer inventiveness.

 

Kessler: Christine, when this song debuted, I was a pre-teen living in small-town North Louisiana, and I remember being utterly bewildered by the track. Now, thanks in large part to Robert Rodriguez’s book Revolver: How The Beatles Re-Imagined Rock’n’Roll, I can appreciate the layered artistry of the work. But it still isn’t one of my favorite Beatles songs. How did you respond when you first encountered “She Said She Said,” and how do you see it now?

 

Feldman-Barrett: I was  seven (almost eight) years old when I first heard this song in 1979, and I loved it straight away. As an adult looking back on this moment, my initially enthusiastic first reaction to “She Said She Said” kind of  bewilders me on the one hand, as it doesn’t seem the kind of Beatles track a little girl listening to Revolver would necessarily enjoy. On the other hand, I’ve always been drawn to a jangly guitar sound, which is so prominent in this song. I know it’s been said that this was the Byrds’ influence on the song, but I don’t think I had heard the Byrds’ music yet by this time.

 

In any case, George’s lead guitar line, which opens the track, commanded my attention to such a degree that I could not help but be intrigued by the rest of the song. Also, while the song showcases a dramatic change in rhythm and meter, it’s nonetheless always been a Beatles song that makes me want to get up and dance. The lyrical content of “She Said She Said” was not something I thought much about until I was a teenager. Being part of the Goth subculture during those years – and a Goth who hadn’t abandoned The Beatles – I know the brooding, existentially angsty nature of the song’s lyrics was definitely appealing. Despite its attractiveness to me at that time, “She Said She Said” is a  song that has traveled really well with me throughout my life. It always gels with or complements other music I enjoy.

 

Since my sister held onto the Revolver LP she bought for us in 1979, I ended up buying it on CD soon after watching The Beatles Anthology when it first aired on American TV in November 1995. I’d play “She Said She Said” on repeat in my car driving around Los Angeles, which is where I lived at the time. Since the song’s origin story took place in LA, I suppose that was fitting  – but, mainly, it made sense that I wanted to hear it a lot, given that I was also listening to Britpop bands like Oasis and Blur. There’s such a clear A-to-B line from “She Said She Said” to the sound of those bands, most all of whom cite The Beatles as one of their greatest inspirations. And it still remains my favorite Beatles song. There’s something magical about The Beatles’ early psychedelic songs that make me return to them again and again. For me, “She Said She Said” has all the elements that make me love their mid-period sound best: catchy guitar lines, inventive drumming, and vocal melodies that always makes me want to sing along.

 

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Revolver Deep Dive Part 3: I’m Only Sleeping

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Revolver

Side One, Track Three

“I’m Only Sleeping”…or So He Said!

 

by Jude Southerland Kessler, Don Jeffries, and Bob Wilson

 

Through 2023, the Fest for Beatles Fans blog will explore the intricacies of The Beatles’ astounding 1966 LP, Revolver. This month, Don Jeffries and Bob Wilson of the fascinating new book on the “Paul is Dead” controversy, From Strawberry Fields to Abbey Road: A Billy Shears Story, join Jude Southerland Kessler, author of The John Lennon Series, for a fresh, new look at track three of this landmark LP.

 

What’s Standard:

 

Dates and Times Recorded, Studios Used:

27 April 1966 (Studio 3 from 11.30 p.m. – 1.00 a.m.)

29 April 1966 (Studio 3 from 5.00 p.m. – 1.00 a.m.)

5 May 1966 (Studio 3 from 9:30 p.m. – 3.00 a.m.)

6 May 1966 (Studio 2 from 2.30 p.m. – 1.00 a.m.)

Source: Lewisohn’s The Complete Beatles Chronicle and The Beatles Recording Sessions

 

Tech Team:

Producer: George Martin

Engineer: Geoff Emerick

Second Engineer: Phil McDonald

  

 Instrumentation and Musicians:

John Lennon, the composer, sings double-tracked lead vocals and plays acoustic guitar on his 1964 Gibson J-160E.

Paul McCartney sings harmony vocals and plays bass. Some sources claim he used his 1964 Rickenbacker 4001S bass. Others, just as adamantly, state Paul used his Hofner. Rodriguez says the Hofner was used to get “those tiptoeing bass sounds.”  In The Anthology, George Martin states that Paul played the lead line with George Harrison. In Here, There, and Everywhere, Geoff Emerick seconds this assertion. (p. 124)

George Harrison sings harmony vocals and plays lead guitar. However, no source, including Babiuk’s Beatles Gear, identifies the guitar Harrison was using for the dramatic “backwards” guitar solo. And if, as Martin and Emerick insist, Paul played lead simultaneously, we do not know what instrument Paul was employing either.

Ringo Starr plays his 1964 Ludwig Oyster Black Pearl “Super Classic” drum set.

 

Sources: The Beatles, The Anthology, 211, Lewisohn, The Complete Beatles Chronicle, 219-220, Lewisohn, The Recording Sessions, 77-78, Emerick, Here, There, and Everywhere, 124, Rodriguez, Revolver: How The Beatles Reimagined Rock’n’Roll, 129-132, Margotin and Guesdon, All the Songs, 328-329, Winn, That Magic Feeling, 15 and 18, Hammack, The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, 132-134, Turner, A Hard Day’s Write, 106, Mellers, Twilight of the Gods: The Music of The Beatles, 71-73, MacDonald, Revolution in the Head, 161, Riley, Tell Me Why, 185-186, O’Toole, Songs We Were Singing: Guided Tours Through The Beatles Lesser Known Tracks, 116-118, Spizer, The Beatles for Sale on Parlophone Records, 200, Davies, Beatles Lyrics, 150-153, Womack, Long and Winding Roads: The Evolving Artistry of The Beatles, 129 and 139, Spignesi and Lewis, 100 Best Beatles Songs, 180-182 and Cardinale, “The Spark of Inspiration” found at https://medium.com/synapticalchemy/the-spark-of-inspiration-2e51272d0dcd.

 

What’s Changed:

 

As Kenneth Womack perceptively observed in Long and Winding Roads: The Evolving Artistry of The Beatles, “Where Rubber Soul is about The Beatles’ self-conscious redefinition of themselves and their art, Revolver is about taking those new-fangled models of themselves and their art out for a proverbial spin. This album is about revving up the engines of their musicality…about The Beatles’ desire to push the boundaries of their achievement, to experiment…” (p. 129)

 

And experimentation is precisely what John Lennon is about here in “I’m Only Sleeping” as he cleverly recreates his favorite place: the enchanted world of sleep-inspiration, the birthplace of that cherished “spark of after-midnight.”

 

In his blog “The Spark of Inspiration,” Stephen Cardinale poetically observes: “The spark of inspiration is…a force that pulls you from your slumber and won’t allow you to rest until you’ve imprinted the ground with that spark from the heavens.” Very early on, John Lennon discovered and utilized this field of somnambulant stimulation, and throughout his career, he would credit it with the stimulus for songs such as “Across the Universe” and “Watching the Wheels.” In the slim space between wake and slumber,  John encountered the shadowy land where (for him) great ideas exist.

 

In “I’m Only Sleeping,” John utilizes every “bell and whistle” at his disposal to recreate the fertile fog of semi-consciousness. Calling upon the genius of The Beatles and the musical acumen of George Martin and Geoff Emerick to help him bring this world to life,  Lennon employs sophisticated technical tricks – and a few simple ploys – to set an elaborate stage for us all…and to wave a welcoming hand toward his “Land of Nod.”

 

Robert Rodriguez, in Revolver, How The Beatles Reimagined Rock’n’Roll, states, “Just as when you’re a hammer, everything looks like a nail, so it was in 1966: if you were a Beatle, every sound was fair game to be sped up, slowed down, turned backwards, doubled, and otherwise sliced and diced.” And here, John and the band do precisely that; they create extraordinary sound effects that pull us into Lennon’s exotic reality. These devices include:

 

  1. Frequency Modulation – On page 15 of That Magic Feeling, John C. Winn tells us, “On 27 April, The Beatles…taped 11 takes of John’s new composition, ‘I’m Only Sleeping.’ These were played in the key of Em, but with the tape running fast.” (At 56 cycles, Lewisohn tells us in The Beatles Recording Sessions, p. 76) “This gave the song a more languid, dreamy quality when played back” at normal speed, at 47¾ cycles, Lewisohn states. (The Beatles Recording Sessions, p. 76) The resulting exotic harmonies skew away from the harmonies of “This Boy.” They are equally lovely, but now also haunting.

 

Rodriguez explains that John’s vocal was recorded with the tape rolling more slowly than customary. (In The Beatles Recording Sessions, p. 77, Lewisohn tells us it ran at 45 cycles.) Then, when the tape proceeded at normal speed in playback mode, John’s voice became “more dreamlike,” more ethereal, and removed. (pp. 130-131)

 

The Beatles had become fascinated with frequency modulation in making “Rain.” And here it was carefully applied to veil John’s sleepy song in the drowsy cobweb of half-consciousness.

 

  1. Use of Backwards Tracks – The Beatles used 17 seconds of backward guitar in the body of “I’m Only Sleeping” and another ten seconds in the fade-out. That’s all. And to capture this beautifully bizarre sound, it took six hours of intense work. Geoff Emerick claims it was nine hours of labor (p. 124), and Hunter Davies, in The Beatles Lyrics, claims it took 12 hours. (p. 151) This may seem rather extravagant, but as Spignesi and Lewis state, when The Beatles “wanted an effect, they moved earth and sky to achieve it.” (p. 181) The curiously curling and writhing guitar is the essence of the sleep soundtrack: the stuff of dreams.

 

Here is how George Martin explained the “very strange” technique employed to achieve the sound: “In order to record the backward guitar on a track like ‘I’m Only Sleeping,’ you work out what your chord sequence is and write down the reverse order of the chords – as they are going to come up – so you can recognize them. You then learn to boogie around on that chord sequence, but you don’t really know what it’s going to sound like until it comes out again. It’s hit or miss, no doubt about it, but you do it a few times, and when you like what you hear, you keep it.” (Spignesi and Lewis, 180) That sounds logical – doable, even.

 

But in Here, There, and Everywhere, EMI Engineer Geoff Emerick claimed the process was “one hard day’s night!” (p. 124) He says it “turned out to be an interminable day of listening to the same eight bars played backwards over and over and over again.” (p. 124)

 

As mentioned earlier, Beatles scholars disagree about whether or not Paul joined George in playing the backwards line. But all agree that two guitar parts were recorded. In The Beatles Recording Sessions, Lewisohn says, “[The Beatles] made it doubly difficult by recording two guitar parts – one ordinary and one a fuzz guitar – which were superimposed on top of one another.” Similarly, O’Toole in Songs We Were Singing, states, “Martin…had to conduct Harrison beat by beat, with the guitarist ultimately recording two separate solos – one with fuzz effects or distortion, and one without. Martin then laid the tracks on top of one another…” However, Hammack in The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2 says that “on May 5th, McCartney and Harrison added lead guitars to the song…The solos (one with fuzz distortion added) were recorded simultaneously.” One guitarist or two? We may never know definitively. But the artistry and care given to this song is just shy of miraculous.

 

  1. 3. Simple Sound Effects – Of course, not all of The Beatles’ “sound effects” in “I’m Only Sleeping” were groundbreaking. At 1:57 in the song, you can hear someone (presumably, John) say, “Yawn, Paul.” And at 2:01, Paul yawns. It’s not a highly complex maneuver, but it adds the perfect final touch in the recreation of John’s Muse-inhabited realm of sleep. And as O’Toole remarks, “…it represents [The Beatles] at their most experimental to date…nothing was off limits for this 1966 masterpiece.” (Songs We Were Singing, 116)

 

A Fresh New Look:

 

Don Jeffries is the author of myriad books including Bullyocracy: How the Social Hierarchy Enables Bullies to Rule Schools, Work Places and Society at Large; On Borrowed Fame: Money, Mysteries, and Corruption in the Entertainment World, and Hidden History: An Expose of Crimes, Conspiracies, and Cover-Ups in American History. Don is a lifelong Beatles fan, and we’ve shared many in-depth conversations about Beatles music on his popular I-Heart Radio show, “The Don and Ella” show.

 

Bob Wilson is well-known in The Beatles World for his very popular podcast with Warren Brown, “Tomorrow Never Knows” and his intriguing solo podcast, “Don’t Pass Me By.” He has also contributed several articles to Beatles Magazine.

 

This month, Don and Bob Wilson are releasing their first venture into Beatles investigative research. After interviewing numerous Beatles friends and experts about the “Paul is Dead” controversy, they will soon be releasing From Strawberry Fields to Abbey Road: A Billy Shears Story. Here are their insights on “I’m Only Sleeping.”

 

Jude Southerland Kessler: Don and Bob, John wrote many songs about sleep in his Beatles and solo career. Sleep was a muse to him, a mystical place to seek inspiration.  And sometimes, it was simply a place to escape. How do you view sleep in this particular rendition? Is John talking about shutting out the world or letting in creativity?

 

Don Jeffries and Bob Wilson: We know that John loved to sleep and also to lie in bed. Apparently, his bed was a kind of refuge for him. It’s no accident that the “Give Peace a Chance” video took place during John and Yoko’s “Bed-In for Peace.” John would touch upon the theme of sleep in other songs, such as “I’m So Tired.” During his solo career, he wrote both the scathing attack on Paul McCartney, “How do you Sleep?”(on which Harrison also played) and the aptly titled “Number 9 Dream.”

 

But John’s “bed-in” time didn’t necessarily note slothfulness. In fact, In “I’m Only Sleeping,” to quote author Hunter Davies in Beatles Lyrics, “The words are sharp and succinct, not at all the mark of a lazy lyricist. John loved his bed. When he wasn’t sleeping, he was often propped up on pillows, writing…John loved to stay in bed creating and writing.”

 

Lennon needed sleep to create; many of his songs touch on this. John famously described how “Nowhere Man” came to him, “the whole damn thing, as I lay down.” Similarly, the words to “Across the Universe”  came to him as he lay in bed after an argument with Cynthia. Here, John lauds the creative process he always enjoyed in “half-sleep.” Sam Kemp of Far Out magazine referred to  “I’m Only Sleeping” as “an ode to the importance of being idle.” But this sort of idleness is equivalent to receptiveness, not oblivion. John is listening, thinking, and creating.

 

Kessler: I so agree! We  are alerted to John’s wakefulness from the very first line of the song when he sings: “When I wake up early in the morning…” And as the song progresses, John reminds us that he is  “keeping an eye on the world going by my window.” Clearly, John is not sleeping but existing in that dozing state in which ideas flow freely.

 

What do you like about “I’m Only Sleeping”? What’s its charm for you?

 

Jeffries and Wilson: I almost always love Lennon’s melodies. His voice here, as it regularly does, draws the listener in. I consider Lennon to be the greatest vocalist in the history of popular music. He could make any song contagious.

 

As he would do in his song “I’m so Tired,” Lennon seemed to have a special talent for melodies that make the listener think of sleep, or even feel sleepy. All anecdotal evidence suggests that Lennon’s inordinate amount of time spent in bed made him an expert on the subject.

 

The dreamlike sound in “I’m Only Sleeping” was enhanced by its E minor key. Furthermore, as Jude indicated in the “What’s New” segment of the blog, new studio tricks were used to create that very atmosphere. The backing track, as she explained, was recorded faster and then slowed down when played back at average speed. This evoked the image of  “running through deep water” or “moving in a dream.” (And, of course, John’s lead vocal was processed in the opposite way to produce a high-pitched, far-away sound.)

 

Simpler techniques in the recording also catch my attention. For example, Paul actually yawns during the song. And John’s word choices cleverly evoke a “hussssshed” feeling of sleep: lazy, crazy, speed, staring, ceiling, shake me. The song’s repeated “s” and “sh” sounds lull us.

 

However,  I’m not the only one who admires this song. Steven Spignesi and Michael Lewis, in The 100 Best Beatles Songs, rate it at #57. They call it: “One of the band’s drowsiest, most lethargic songs” but point out that it has “John’s cleanest and most well-written lyrics.” (p. 182) And in Revolution in the Head, noted author Ian McDonald says, “‘I’m Only Sleeping’ with its dreamy multitracking, a dim halo of slowed cymbal sound, and softly tiptoeing bass is…deep in artifice. The Beatles…[created] a new sonic environment.” And while admitting that the song’s theme is sleep and lethargy, MacDonald notes that “I’m Only Sleeping” was “more active than anything [John Lennon] had written since ‘Girl.’”

 

Kessler: Don and Bob, some music critics have claimed that this song is about drug usage, not sleep. Which theory do you support and why?

 

Jeffries and Wilson: I don’t think there are any drug inferences here, although certainly, the ethereal nature of the song might lend itself to being listened to while smoking marijuana. People have often claimed drug messages in Lennon’s songs. Lennon’s lyrics were sometimes ambiguous enough to be open to multiple interpretations, but in this case, it seems pretty clear that it’s a simple song about the joys of half-sleep and the creativity found there.

 

In his book Long and Winding Roads: The Evolving Artistry of The Beatles, Dr. Kenneth Womack notes that a big difference is observed when John is writing about drugs and when he’s writing about sleep. When he’s writing about drugs, John is adrift, floating downstream. For example, “In ‘Tomorrow Never Knows,’ you turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream….truly surrender to the void.” However, in “I’m Only Sleeping,” John is floating upstream, awake and aware of what’s going on outside his window. This has nothing to do with drugs.

 

For more information on From Strawberry Fields to Abbey Road: A Billy Shears Story, HEAD HERE

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Jay Bergen represented John Lennon the man, not John the Beatle

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If you’re a Beatles fan hungry for new material about one or all of the Fab Four…or if you’re a researcher seeking authentic, primary source material about John’s solo years, look no further than Jay Bergen’s book, Lennon, the Mobster, & the Lawyer, The Untold Story. This 2022 publication is a gold mine! Bergen was John’s attorney in the case against mobster Morris Levy, who tried to market a bootleg of John’s Rock ‘n’ Roll LP that Levy called Roots. And Jay has his own personal story of his days preparing for the trial as well as John’s lengthy and insightful court testimony to share with you. This is factual, documented material you’ve never read before. And it is fascinating!

 

Meet Jay Bergen in person at the New York Metro Fest for Beatles Fans from March 31 to April 2, 2023! 

 

Jay himself is fascinating. An esteemed New York litigator, Bergen represented the New York Yankees, then-Cleveland Indians, Cincinnati Reds and San Francisco Giants in the 80s/90s Major League Baseball salary arbitration with their players. He also represented Albert Grossman, Bob Dylan’s first manager, in litigation with the star.

 

But, as you will see in the interview below, Jay is also down-to-earth, gregarious, and extremely kind. Over the course of the Roots trial, John and Jay became friends, sharing many conversations, lunches, and walks together. This is a story that will not only inform you about John’s creative process, his love of 1950s music, and his passion for his work, but will also give you a new glimpse at John, the man.

 

After 36 years of research on John Lennon, I found this one of the best books ever written about his life in the 1970s. Let’s meet Jay and hear more about this riveting story…

 

Jude Southerland Kessler: Jay, for those in our Fest for Beatles Fans family who don’t know the stories of John’s legal troubles in the mid-1970s, please give us a synopsis of what happened to precipitate the Roots trial against Morris Levy.

 

Jay Bergen: In 1970, Morris Levy filed a lawsuit claiming that “Come Together,” written by John Lennon, infringed the copyright to “You Can’t Catch Me.” It was one of Levy’s bogus infringement claims for which he was notorious. The case was coming to trial in NYC in October 1973, but during that time frame, John was in LA recording an album of oldies rock ’n’ roll with Phil Spector producing. John did not want to leave LA, so he settled the case by agreeing to record three Levy-owned songs, including “You Can’t Catch Me,” on his “next album,” which was supposed to be John’s oldies album.

 

Spector disappeared with the LA master tapes. It took Capitol Records six months to get the tapes from Spector and send them to John in NYC. They arrived when he was ready to record new songs he had written at the Record Plant. John knew the Spector masters required a lot of work so he put them aside and recorded the new songs. That was Walls and Bridges released in September 1974. Levy knew that rock ’n’ roll oldies could not be on an album of John’s songs but still claimed that this was John’s “next” album and John had not complied with the settlement.

 

Levy then demanded a meeting with John on October 8, 1974. Levy, John, May Pang, and Harold Seider, John’s business advisor, met, and Levy claimed in January 1975 that John made an agreement that night allowing him to release the oldies album on TV on a worldwide basis.

 

In February 1975, Capitol learned that Levy was buying TV ad time to advertise a bootleg unfinished version of John’s oldies LP that he was calling Roots. John finished his album and Capitol rush released John Lennon Rock ’n’ Roll on February 13th. Levy then stopped his TV ads – after selling 1,270 albums. He then filed a lawsuit against John, Capitol Records, EMI Records, Harold Seider, and Apple Records alleging breach of contract, fraud, and other false claims. Two weeks later his lawyers filed a federal antitrust case against the same defendants alleging $14 million in damages.

 

Kessler: How did you become John’s attorney and how long did you work to gather data for the case? How involved was it?

 

Bergen: On February 3, 1975 my partner David Dolgenos – John’s lawyer in connection with the dissolution of The Beatles partnership – asked me to attend a meeting at Capitol’s offices about a rumor that Morris Levy was going to release a bootleg John Lennon album. While I was meeting with three Capitol lawyers, John Lennon suddenly entered the room. I was stunned since I didn’t know he was going to be at the meeting. John filled us in on his contact with Levy and this possible bootleg album.

 

During the meeting, I asked John how long it would take to finish the oldies album. He said it would take two days, and he wanted to finish it now. Once John delivered the finished album, Capitol could release it in a week to ten days. So that’s what happened.

 

Even before the first lawsuit was filed, I began interviewing John, May Pang, and Harold Seider in more detail because I wanted to get the facts about all of the dealings with Morris Levy down pat. In the course of doing so, I also learned that Levy was connected to the Genovese crime family in NYC, that he was really a bad guy, and that he had been in “business” with the Mafia for many years.

 

Pulling together all of the facts was involved because I learned that John had spent time with Levy at a club/restaurant where Levy was a member. I also discovered that in October 1974, John had taken the band with whom he was going to record some new tracks for the oldies album  to Levy’s farm for a weekend of rehearsals. More disturbing was that John had accepted Levy’s invitation to spend part of the Christmas holidays with May Pang and his son Julian, who arrived from England at Disney World in Florida. This series of events could be interpreted as evidence that John and Levy were close friends and that perhaps they had made a deal!

 

Kessler: So, John agreed to be very active in the case against Levy… to be present in court, to give testimony, and to assist in any way possible. Do you feel that John contributed to the case against Levy and to the success of your litigation? If so, how?

 

Bergen: Yes, John was in court every day, even when he did not have to testify. I think that impressed Judge Griesa because it showed how important the case was to John. Yoko Ono was there also when the trial was spread over January, March, and April 1976, twenty days. Levy was not present very often. Since John was there every day, he was able to watch each witness and see how the judge ran the trial. John knew what to expect when he testified.

 

John was the best witness I ever had. He was willing to review all the facts and prepare for his deposition and trial testimony. While the judge was a trained musician, he knew nothing about The Beatles or John Lennon or rock ’n’ roll music. John explained his entire process of producing records, the amount of space needed between each track, how long each side of an LP should be, etc. The judge was really into it, so he and John would have these long question/answer periods which drove Levy’s lawyer crazy. He’d try to object, but the judge ignored him.

 

Kessler: Before you really began work on the case full-scale, you were asked to the Dakota to meet Yoko and chat with her. Please tell us about the meeting…a meeting that you categorize as “an audition.”

 

Bergen: Sometime in late March, John called me and asked me if I could come up to the Dakota the next morning at 11 AM to meet Yoko. He said, “She just would like to meet you.” When I arrived, we sat in their big living room overlooking Central Park. John was not there.

 

Yoko had read the two complaints and asked me a series of questions about them. She also wanted to know about my background and experience as a trial lawyer. She was very interested and asked very good questions. She was extremely smart. She politely grilled me. After about an hour or so, she told me that John and she were very worried about Levy’s cases; she emphasized that all John and she wanted to do was hold down the amount of money that John would owe Levy. I told her that if I had anything to say about it, John would not owe Levy anything! That was my goal.

 

She finally stood up, said she was glad to have met me and thanked me for coming.

 

You might say I was naïve, but it wasn’t until many years later that I fully realized that our meeting was an “audition” so to speak…and that if Yoko had not liked me and thought that I was not the right lawyer to represent John, I would have been replaced.

 

Kessler: Jay, one of the most interesting parts of your book was John’s court testimony about how involved he was in the creative process for each of his solo LPs (just as The Beatles were actively involved in the making of their LPs.) Tell us about John’s involvement in insuring that each LP was special…and if you would, please share some passages with us that John actually said about that process.

 

Bergen: It’s really hard to describe John’s “involvement” as you say, without reading the entire two chapters — “How We Learned The Trade” and “John’s Creative Process” — in which some of his testimony is set forth. Let me insert the portions of that testimony:

 

Bergen: Now, would you generally describe the recording processes for the Court from the moment you got into the studio?

 

Lennon: Well, it varied from artist to artist.

 

Bergen: In [your] experience tell us what procedures you followed?

 

Lennon: In general, I take the group into the studio, and in general, I record my own songs, so I have to teach them the songs, either in the studio or outside of the studio. Generally, I teach them inside the studio, like a rehearsal or run-through.

 

And for that we would put it on just a one track or a two track. We would not waste time setting a 16-track machine, which costs money for the tape, and it is not worth it. So, we just run rehearsal on a smaller tape. And then we will try after we run through all the songs, and I have decided which ones they seem to be getting the best, after two days of that, say, I will start laying down the basic tracks for the first song. It usually take[s] the engineers an evening or half an evening to get the sound of the drums, then the sound of the bas[s], then the sound of the guitar, then the sound of the piano, and then a combination of all those people playing at once.

 

Bergen: You mean, to get it at the right level?

 

Lennon: The engineer has to know virtually what the drum is going to do, what it is going to sound like when it is hit, whether it is going to distort, so that there has to be an interruption and a sound check without having anything to do with the song, then rehearse the sound without me. The engineer will say drummer, drum, play your tom-tom, and he will play the tom-tom and adjust the mikes and move them around and play the tambourine or cymbals. They have to go through the whole thing before they even start the session.

 

Usually, I hire the studio, so I know I am going to be there for a month; I am usually there for ten days with the musicians, and so all the instruments are set up already, but even with that, after the run-through and the sound check still each night they will run through the sound of the instruments again, because people come in and move microphones, or the musicians forget and they kick the amplifiers or they change the volume.

 

Bergen: You mean then before you start the sessions?

 

Lennon: Yes, every night. That is why we get there early and I generally like to sing with the musicians. I may be in a booth that is supposed to be soundproof.

 

But I like to sing with the musicians, because then I get the rhythm; I like to do it by feel. Quite often I can’t use my vocal, but at least I know how it was.

 

Bergen: When you say you can’t use the vocal?

 

Lennon: I can’t use [it], sometimes it is no good, and I like to play an instrument myself. So, if I am lucky, I get a vocal. But even though I am singing, I have to be listening to the drummer and the bass player and all. I go around and say, “Has anybody got any secrets I didn’t hear?” Sometimes they [tell] you when it is too late, “Oh, yes, I played a wrong note here.” “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t hear it.” So, it is a matter, I have to produce it listening hard and do this for ten days usually. I usually put ten tracks on an album. I will tell you the reason if you want to know.

 

Bergen: Yes.

 

Lennon: In general, I put ten tracks because I have learned over the years — well, everybody knows this — after you get past 20 minutes the volume of a record has to go down, and it has something to do with the grooves getting thinner. I have had records over 20 minutes, but when it gets over 20 minutes, the volume goes down, and if you  average out ten songs it works out to about 20 minutes a side. So it usually takes about ten days to [p]lay the basic tracks down with the musicians, and then usually I send them home, and if I am going to overdub, like a saxophone or xylophone or flute or whatever, I want to put it on, then I will hire a new lot of people with those instruments.

 

Bergen: Talking about how long a record should be, what you mean is that there is just so much space on each [side] of a record for the sound that is going to be of a proper quality?

 

Lennon: Well, it is a matter of taste. I am not saying you [cannot] have more.

 

Bergen: I am talking about what you do.

 

Lennon: [It can] be done to 28 minutes, but I don’t like to do that, because I want the record loud, and if the groove is deeper you can get more bass drum, and it even goes to the selection of what to put nearest to the center of the record, because the nearer to the center of the record you get the quieter it has to be. The grooves change when you get to the middle. That is what I have learned from the engineers.

 

Bergen: You say you like the records loud?

 

Lennon: Yes, I like them to have depth.

 

Bergen: If you put your record on at a certain sound, say my stereo at home, it will play [at] a certain level, if you put on another record without adjusting the volume it may not be as loud?

 

Lennon: That is quite possible, yes.

 

Bergen: Now, you started talking about the next step after you finish the first basic tracks with the musicians. What is next?

 

Lennon: Every time I go in, I relearn the whole business. So, sitting here cold it is hard to remember what I do next. Probably I take those things home, play them on a cassette, listen to them, and decide what kind of instrumentation I want to put over the top of it.

 

Bergen: You mean what instruments in addition to the basic instruments that have been put on by you during these ten days?

 

Lennon: There is a chance that I have a few things I want to do with the tracks. In the meantime, I take them home and listen, or go to the studio and listen, and then decide the next phase, whether I am going to put in a rhythm section or something else.

 

This concludes the court testimony in Lennon, the Mobster, & the Lawyer, The Untold Story found on pp. 131-137.

 

Kessler: Jay, why was John’s testimony on this matter so crucial?

 

Bergen: Because John had to explain to the judge how careful he was in producing his albums – which was the exact opposite of what Levy did with the 7 1/2 inches per second unmixed and unfinished two-reel tape of the album John gave him just to listen to! Levy kept hounding John for a tape so he could hear the three songs owned by his publishing company that John had to have on his next album. Through John’s testimony, we had to make the judge understand that John had not given Levy the two tapes so that Levy could begin marketing them as the finished album.

 

Kessler: Jay, another section of the book that I, as a Lennon biographer, especially enjoyed was his testimony about what each song on the Rock ’n’ Roll LP meant to him. Can you tell what he said about “Bring It On Home To Me” “Bony Moronie,” and “Slippin’ and Slidin’.”

 

Bergen: John had reasons for each of the songs on the album and he testified that he was the only one who knew those reasons.  For example:

 

“Bring It On Home To Me” is one of my [all-time] favorite songs, and, in fact, I have been quoted as saying I wish I had written it, I love it that much, and I was glad to be able to do it.

 

“Bonie [sic] Maronie [sic]” was one of the very earliest songs, along with “Be-Bop-A-Lula,” and I remember [sing]ing it the only time my mother saw me perform before she died. So I was hot on “Bonie [sic] Maronie [sic].” That is one of the reasons. Also, I liked Larry Williams, who recorded it.

 

“S[l]ippin’ & Slidin’,” the B side of Long Tall Sally, which is the first Little Richard song I ever heard and was also recorded by Buddy Holly, so that covers a little of both. It was a song I knew. It was easier to do songs that I knew than trying to learn something from scratch, even if I was interested in the songs.

 

Kessler: Since the book came out, you’ve been on countless radio shows and podcasts, and you’ve been a sought-after speaker at numerous conventions and special events. You’ve been asked so many questions. If you don’t mind, please ask yourself a question that you haven’t been asked yet and that you want to answer. We’re all ears!

 

Bergen: I’ve told the story in the book about what happened when I stopped by the Record Plant Studios on my way home the evening of December 3, 1980, to say hello to a client, singer/songwriter Eve Moon, who was recording an album for Capitol Records there.

 

As I walked into the first-floor reception area on 44th Street just off Eighth Avenue, I was very surprised to see Yoko Ono sitting on a couch at the far end of the room. She immediately said to me: “What are you doing here?” I said “Hello Yoko” as I walked toward her.

 

I asked how John was since I assumed he was in one of the two studios on the first floor (Eve Moon was in a studio on the 10th floor). I knew that since Yoko was there, John had to be in one of those two studios right in back of me.

 

Later, on my way out I asked Yoko to give my best to John.

 

No one has ever asked me why didn’t I check each of those two studios and go in and say hello to John?

 

I could have easily done that. John would have been happy to see me, I know he would have been. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in four years that wouldn’t have made a difference to him or me. We had defeated Morris Levy together.

 

For a variety of reasons, I did not have a “voice” in my personal life. I was not like that in my professional life. I developed an aggressive style as a trial lawyer, not to the point that I was obnoxious. But I did not hesitate to speak up in situations where I had to.

 

That was not true many times in my personal life.

 

Five nights later, John Lennon was gunned down in front of the Dakota! And I had missed the opportunity to see him one last time.

 

I’ve replayed that night in my mind more than once over the decades since.

 

*****

As you can see, Lennon, the Mobster, & the Lawyer, The Untold Story is a remarkable book with facts and stories about John Lennon and his creative work that is extremely important and new! You can purchase the book at the Fest bookstore, on Amazon, or here.

 

And you can see him in action in this video episode of the “She Said She Said” podcast with Lanea Stagg of the Recipe Records Series and me:

 

Follow Jay on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook

 

I also highly recommend the superb audiobook of Lennon, the Mobster, & the Lawyer, The Untold Story which is available on Audible. Scott McKinley, who does the professional voice work for this book, is amazing! His John Lennon is spot-on! McKinley keeps you so engaged that you can’t tear yourself away! I carried my phone around for days, listening to the audiobook. You will really enjoy it, trust me. Find it here.

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Rubber Soul Deep Dive Part 11: In My Life

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Rubber Soul

Side Two, Track Three

“In My Life”

 

by Jude Southerland Kessler and Susan Ryan

 

Throughout 2021 and the first few months of 2022, the Fest for Beatles Fans blog has been exploring some of the finer points of The Beatles’ innovative 1965 LP, Rubber Soul. This month, a lifelong friend of the Fest, Susan Ryan, joins Jude Southerland Kessler, author of The John Lennon Series for an in-depth consideration of “In My Life.” Susan is the co-author of The Beatles Fab Four Cities, a new release thoroughly exploring the lives of The Beatles in Liverpool, Hamburg, London, and New York City. Susan is also an experienced New York City Beatles Tour guide and the owner of Fab Four Walking Tours. In her role as a noted public speaker, Susan has served as Emcee for Beatles at the Ridge and The Fest for Beatles Fans. Susan and Jude hope you enjoy this “fresh, new look” at Lennon’s masterpiece, “In My Life.”

 

What’s Standard:

 

Date Recorded:

18 October 1965 – The Beatles recorded the base track for the song: the two guitars, bass, and drums in three takes. On Take 3, John recorded his double-tracked vocals; Paul and George added backing vocals.

22 October 1965 – As per John’s request for “something baroque,” George Martin recorded an original piano solo for what John referred to as the song’s “middle eight.” Martin did this by playing half-speed on a normal piano and then speeding it up to create the sound of a harpsichord.

Studio: Both recordings took place in EMI Studios, Studio 2

 

Tech Team

Producer: George Martin

Engineer: Norman Smith (and according to some sources, Ron Pender)

Second Engineer: Ken Scott

Stats: Recorded in only four takes. “Best” take was Take 4. However, a plethora of overdubs completed the song in later sessions.

 

Instrumentation and Musicians:

 

John Lennon, the lyrical composer and, he states, the musical composer (Lennon stated to David Sheff that “All Paul added to the song was the middle eight and the harmony.”) sings lead vocals and guitar on his 1961 Fender Stratocaster electric. (Hammond, The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, 73)

Paul McCartney, who also claims to be the musical composer, sings backing vocal and plays bass on his Rickenbacker 4001S. In his Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, Hammack points out that the Hofner 500/1 “was available, but probably unused.” (p. 73)

George Harrison sings backing vocals and plays lead guitar on his 1961 Fender Stratocaster electric, an exact match for John’s guitar. (Hammack, 73) Harrison plays the memorable and lovely introduction to this song. (Womack, Maximum Volume, The Life of Beatles Producer George Martin, 291)

Ringo Starr plays one of his Ludwig Oyster Black Pearl Super Classic drum sets (Hammack, 73 and Womack, 291)) and tambourine.

George Martin, plays the baroque “middle eight.” The complete story of this solo is covered in the “What’s Changed” section below.  (Womack, Maximum Volume, The Life of Beatles Producer, George Martin, 290-291.)

 

Sources: The Beatles, The Anthology, 194, Lewisohn, The Complete Beatles Chronicle, 202-203, Lewisohn, The Recording Sessions, 64-65, Womack, Long and Winding Roads: The Evolving Artistry of The Beatles, 122-124,Womack, Maximum Volume, The Life of Beatles Producer George Martin, 290-291 and 294, Womack, The Beatles Encyclopedia, Vol. 1, 462-464, Margotin and Guesdon, All the Songs, 302-303, Winn, Way Beyond Compare, 365 and 367, Hammack, The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, 73-75, Turner, A Hard Day’s Write, 96-98, Spizer, The Beatles for Sale on Parlophone Records, 203, Coleman, Lennon, 299, MacDonald, Revolution in the Head: The Beatles’ Records and The Sixties, 136-137, Riley, Tell Me Why, 166-168,  Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 149 and 151, Norman, John Lennon: The Life, 417-418, Miles, Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now, 276-278,  Babiuk, Beatles Gear, 169-170, and Spignesi and Lewis, 100 Best Beatles Songs, 33-34, and In My Life” by The Beatles. The in-depth story behind the songs of the Beatles. Recording History. Songwriting History. Song Structure and Style. (beatlesebooks.com)

 

What’s Changed:

 

  1. Overt autobiographical references set to a solemn melody –

 

Although many (if not most) of John’s songs prior to 1965 had been highly autobiographical, hits such as “I’ll Cry Instead,” “Tell Me Why,” and “Help!” had been accompanied by up-tempo music that made them seem happy, light-hearted, and upbeat. Even when John’s confessionals were backed by more somber music – as in the case of “If I Fell,” “I’m a Loser,” and “Not a Second Time” – the public perceived them merely as universal love songs, songs that could apply to anyone. Few guessed that rich, powerful, successful John Lennon was singing about his own wounds and fears.

 

“In My Life,” however, was at last quite completely candid about the joys and sorrows John had experienced. Spurred on by journalists John respected (including Maureen Cleave and Kenneth Alsop) who encouraged John to be more openly autobiographical and literary…and validated by the nature of Dylan’s popular “Freewheeling” LP, John summoned the courage to make “In My Life” an overtly personal release. He didn’t try to buoy it up with lively music or brush it off as nonsense or gobbledygook. John owned “In My Life” as “my first real major piece of work.” (Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 151) Without excuse or camouflage, John laid bare his heart.

 

  1. Inclusion of a classical sounding (“Bach inversion”) piano solo –

 

John had originally envisioned a guitar solo as the instrumental solo for “In My Life.” He had even devised an intricate melody line for this part of the song. And in keeping with his wishes, a guitar solo was recorded. In his book, The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Jerry Hammack states that this  might have been a dual solo, recorded by Harrison and Lennon. He writes: “…the solo appears to have been played by two different guitars. Harrison recalled that on October 22nd, he and John played a dual solo on ‘Nowhere Man,’ so the dual performance is a distinct possibility.” (p. 74) However, this solo just didn’t turn out to be as poignant or effective as John wanted it to sound, and he expressed those misgivings to George Martin.

 

In Kenneth Womack’s, Maximum Volume, The Life of Beatles Producer George Martin, we are told, “Lennon and Martin set about the business of recording a keyboard solo for ‘In My Life’…To Lennon’s mind, the solo was an essential feature – a highly melodic means of underscoring the song’s nostalgic power. With a Hammond studio organ on hand, Lennon opted for a classical sound in the manner of J.S. Bach. As The Beatles lacked the ability to score music…Martin sat beside Lennon in Studio 2. As Lennon sang the notes of a potential keyboard solo, Martin doubled the sounds on the grand piano with one hand while charting them in his notebook with the other. With the keyboard solo having been fully realized, Martin sat before the Hammond organ as Norman Smith cued up the existing first and second takes of ‘In My Life.’ But as he listened to the playback with Smith and The Beatles, Martin was decidedly underwhelmed [with the solo]…The organ sounded thin and lifeless in contrast with the song’s moving lyrics…”(p. 291)

 

So, the evolution of the lovely solo that John had composed did not end there. Womack goes on to say, “…on Friday, October 22…the band’s producer turned his attentions back to ‘In My Life.’ George was determined to unseat the Hammond organ solo that he had recorded…a stunning song and glorious song such as ‘In My Life’ deserved a much grander fate.”

 

To find out “the rest of the story” (as journalist Paul Harvey used to say), join Susan Ryan later in this blog for “A Fresh New Look” at the so-called “middle eight.”

 

  1. Highly-contested authorship and performance debates –

 

In the early years, The Beatles admittedly collaborated quite frequently on songs such as “She Loves You” and “From Me to You.” But as time went along and they lived further from one another, they began to write the body of a song singly, later altering that song with words or phrases deftly supplied by the other Beatles (such as John’s endorsement of “the movement you need is on your shoulder” in “Hey Jude”) or tweaking a composition here or there, with a little help from their friends. (Pete Shotton, for example, claimed to have contributed significantly to “I Am the Walrus”).

 

Of course, there were always some true collaborations such as “We Can Work It Out” and “A Day in the Life,” but these partnership productions were less prevalent post-1964 than they had been in the group’s ingenue years. Therefore, it was rare for a song’s authorship to be debated. “In My Life” is one of the few songs in contention. As Ken Womack points out in Long and Winding Roads, The Evolving Artistry of The Beatles, “It was certainly a song over which claiming authorship was a worthy goal indeed.” (p. 124)

 

More on this topic as we now join Beatles author Susan Ryan for…

 

A Fresh New Look:

 

Jude Southerland Kessler was thrilled to be able to interview Susan Ryan, for this deep-dive into John Lennon’s “In My Life.” When considering Lennon’s masterpiece – a song that Philip Norman has called “a superlative achievement” (John Lennon: The Life, 417) and Ken Womack has dubbed “John Lennon’s…exquisite composition.” (Maximum Volume, 290) Ryan has conducted tours of John Lennon’s New York City for many years as part of her company, Fab Four Walking Tours, and she is featured in the DVD “John Lennon’s New York City.” Kessler commented, “It would be difficult to find anyone who would know John Lennon better than Susan Ryan!” Here is their recent conversation:

 

Jude Southerland Kessler: Susan, congratulations on your new book co-written with David Bedford and Richard Porter, The Beatles Fab Four Cities! I’ve read it cover-to-cover and am really impressed with the depth of research and the wealth of Beatles history in its pages. I know you’re busy promoting it on podcasts, radio programs, social media, and so forth. So, thank you for taking time out to join us for this consideration of “In My Life!”

 

Susan Ryan: Thanks for asking me to help with this project, Jude! Rubber Soul is pretty much my favorite Beatles album, and being able to discuss “In My Life,” a song that has been one of my favorites forever, is a true privilege. I’m also glad to hear that you are enjoying The Beatles Fab Four Cities! Working on that book with David and Richard has also been a true joy, allowing us to share our personal passions as tour guides in our individual cities with all Beatle people!

 

Kessler: Well, let’s jump right into the heart of this beautiful Lennon ballad, “In My Life.” Susan, Ray Coleman in Lennon has this to say about John’s work on Rubber Soul: “For Lennon, particularly, this album marked a personal progression in his craft. Personal honesty and confession, which were to characterize his later work, were inherent. His songs are marked by a more poetic approach, and he was beginning to find his own voice.” How is Coleman’s observation well-illustrated in John’s poignant Side Two creation, “In My Life”?

 

Ryan: Certainly, by the time Rubber Soul and “In My Life” came out, John’s songwriting was maturing at rapid rate. His lyrics had already begun to exhibit a much more personal bent, less of the “I love you; you love me; she loves you” of earlier works. “In My Life” is absolutely an intensely personal reflection, a look back on simpler days and the people and things that were near and dear to John’s heart, and much more straightforward than previous “personal” songs that were covered up by cheerful pop melodies.

 

It is also interesting that the song came from someone so young – normally, a listener would not expect a man of just under 25 years of age to be able to craft such a heartfelt song about “looking back,” but John manages it, and you can hear his longing for times gone by, even if those times were not so very far in his past. Given everything that The Beatles had been through up to this point, becoming virtual prisoners of their fame, it’s not surprising that he would be wishing for the way things had been before they were swallowed up by fame and fortune.  It is also a definite step towards the sometimes brutal honesty that would characterize so many of John’s later songs, both with The Beatles and solo – songs like “Julia” on the White Album, where he sings about his mother, but also inserts his hope for the future with Yoko, or the songs on the John Lennon Plastic Ono Band album, nearly all of which are personal to the point of pain.

 

But it is with songs like “In My Life,” however, where the seeds for those songs and others begin to take root, and where his ability to craft beautiful, passionately personal songs that were destined to endure as pop standards began to emerge, although he could (and did) still write perfect bits of more commercial pop as well.  It’s no wonder this song means so much to so many people – even though they are John’s memories, there’s a universality to the lyrics, set to the lovely melody, that resonates with so many people and their lives.

 

Kessler: John wrote a third verse for “In My Life” that specifically mentioned places in Liverpool he so vividly recalled. However, he removed this bit because he said it felt too much like a “What I Did on Summer Vacation” essay. Share that verse with us, please, and if you don’t mind, please give us your reaction to the lyrics that were omitted.

 

Ryan: Here’s the omitted verse:

 

Penny Lane is one I’m missing
Up Church Road to the clock tower
In the circle of the Abbey
I have seen some happy hours

Past the tram sheds with no trams
On the 5 bus into town
Past the Dutch and St Columbus
To the Dockers Umbrella that they pulled down.[i]

 

Frankly, anyone who hears this song in its final form would have to agree with John; it reads like a travelogue or a “guide to Liverpool landmarks.” If it had been left in, it would have made what is a poignant, universally accessible song into something a little too personal and specific.  By omitting this verse, the song becomes something else – it takes on a life as a song any listener can relate to, no matter who they are or where they’re from. Everyone looks back at some point in their lives to “people and things that went before,” or remembers “friends and lovers….some (who) are dead and some (who) are living.” But not everyone is from Liverpool – and while the places mentioned specifically in those omitted lyrics may have meant something to John personally, or to the other Beatles or other Liverpudlians, they just would not have the same resonance to someone from New York or Los Angeles or any other place.

 

Removing this verse and leaving the form of the song as we know it was a brilliant move, whether originally intended or not, because even though the song remained intensely personal as far as John was concerned, it allowed other people to hear it and put themselves in the situation – the best way to create a “standard.”  There’s a reason this song is sung at weddings and funerals and other life-cycle events – it means something to everyone precisely because it is not time- or place-specific.

 

Kessler: Susan, John admitted that several influences led him to write this very autobiographical song in 1965. Tell us about those people who encouraged him to be more introspective.

 

Ryan: Prior to this song, although John had definitely written songs that were personal, he’d hidden that behind catchy pop melodies or found other ways to disguise the fact.  By the time he was working on this song, however, he’d done a couple of interviews with people who had asked him outright why he didn’t write more sophisticated, introspective songs. One of these was Maureen Cleve of the Evening Standard, who quite literally asked him why he “didn’t ever write songs with more than one syllable?” A second journalist, Kenneth Allsop, asked him why his songs didn’t contain the same kind of depth and meaning that his poetry and prose did when interviewing him after the publication of In His Own Write. All of this led John to begin thinking about doing something more serious and personal.

 

Add to this the release of Bob Dylan’s seminal work, “Freewheeling,” which was full of autobiographical songs, and John realized that if he wanted to do something more serious, he had to take that leap and be willing to share things of a more personal nature in his work.  For a man who most often carried his most intense personal feelings close to the vest, it was a huge step into the unknown, but as I mentioned above, it was also the seed that grew into so many other personal, autobiographical, confessional songs later in his life. The beautiful, tender melody also brought out a softer side of the man who had previously been perceived by many as the “rocker” of the group.

 

Kessler: All right, let’s address the elephant in the room. John was very proud of “In My Life.” In fact, he said it was “his first real major piece of work.” John emphatically said that Paul didn’t even see the song until the lyrics were finished and that “[Paul’s] contribution melodically was the harmony and the middle eight.” Paul, just as insistently, claims to have written the melody. This is the short version of this disagreement. Give us the details, please.

 

Ryan: Wow, Jude, you really want to open a can of worms here, don’t you?

 

There are numerous interviews where John states that he wrote the lyrics to the song first and the music later. This was frequently how he wrote – he’d start with an idea and then come up with the music. In the group’s early years, both John and Paul emphasized their “collaborative” songwriting, stressing the idea that every song they created was a totally collective endeavor by “Lennon and McCartney.”

 

However, in later years, both of their recollections about who wrote the actual melody began to diverge. In a 1980 interview, John said, “There was a period when I thought I didn’t write melodies; that Paul wrote those and I just wrote straight, shouting rock ‘n’ roll. But of course, when I think of some of my own songs – “In My Life” or some of the early stuff….I was writing melody with the best of them.”[ii]  In that same interview, he stated unequivocally that “Paul helped with the middle eight.”  But there was controversy as early as 1976-77 – when Paul was shown a list of Lennon-claimed songs by Hit Parader Magazine, the only one he disputed was “In My Life,” claiming that he’d written the whole melody from beginning to end, inspired by Smokey Robinson.

 

This claim to the authorship of the melody continued when Paul reiterated his statement in 1998, in Barry Miles’ biography of him, Many Years From Now, disputing previous statements by John insisting that his contributions to the song were minor. The fact that John died in 1980 and isn’t here to clarify these claims certainly makes it difficult to discern who was the real author of the music, but given that the song is so intensely personal, it seems logical that John wrote the majority of the song, with only small contributions from Paul in sections such as the middle eight/bridge.

 

Another fascinating thing is that the handwritten lyric sheet of the completed song, which is in John’s handwriting, has only one credit at the bottom – John Lennon! When songs were more collaborative, they’d sign them with both their names.

 

I did find an interesting tidbit that said that in 2018, Harvard University applied an artificial intelligence model to the music of the song, and determined, by their calculations, that there was a “.018% possibility of McCartney having written the whole of the music.”  They gave John an 81.1% certainty of having written the verses, and Paul a 43.6% certainty of writing the middle eight, which means that although the song did contain some obvious collaboration, the vast majority of it was written by John.  I’m inclined to agree.

 

Kessler: As Ian MacDonald points out, there really is no bridge in this song. However, there is an instrumental bridge, artfully created by George Martin. It wasn’t the first bridge composed for the song, however. Please tell us about both bridges and how, by strange coincidence, they “come together.”

 

Ryan: As Jude mentioned earlier in the “What’s New” segment of this blog, “In My Life” doesn’t really have a “middle eight” as people who are familiar with the songs of Lennon and McCartney would recognize. Instead, it has an instrumental bridge, played by George Martin on what is credited on the album cover as a harpsichord.  More on that later…

 

The song was recorded on October 18, 1965, during what was a relatively short studio session for The Beatles. By the end of the day, they had completed most of the song, but there was a section in the middle that was left out because John couldn’t decide what to put there.  Originally it was a guitar piece by George Harrison, but that didn’t hit the right note. George Martin left a gap in the song and John suggested that he supply one himself.  In a 1970 interview, John stated, “In ‘In My Life’ there’s an Elizabethan piano solo.  We’d do things like that.  We’d say, ‘play it like Bach,” or ‘could you put twelve bars in there?’”

 

With that rather vague instruction, George Martin was left to his own devices to create something to place into that section of the song. He worked on the section four days later, on October 22, 1965, when he wrote and recorded something he described as being “like a Bach inversion.” He recorded it first on a Hammond organ, but then did it again on the piano because he didn’t like the sound of the organ. It’s here where George Martin’s genius really shows through, because he used a technique called the “wind-up piano,” with the solo recorded at half speed and an octave lower. When played at normal speed, this made the piano sound like a harpsichord – an auditory trick that no one even realized at the time!  When he played it back for the Beatles when they came back to the studio, they loved it, and left the “harpsichord” solo that we all know and love as part of the song.

 

Kessler: Susan, amazing work! I’ve so enjoyed this. Thank you for taking time out of your preparations for the New Jersey Fest coming up on April 1-3 to be with us this month for the Fest Blog!

 

Ryan: Thanks again for this opportunity, Jude!  It’s been a true pleasure!  I’m looking forward to hearing what people think about our discussion of this special song, and to seeing folks at the New Jersey Fest in April!

 

For more information on Susan Ryan and The Beatles Fab Four Cities:

 

The Beatles Fab Four Cities by Ryan, Bedford, and Porter had been acclaimed as “a must for every Beatles fan” by Billy J. Kramer. To find out more about the book, HEAD HERE

 

To purchase The Beatles Fab Four Cities, HEAD HERE

 

To hear Susan Ryan, David Bedford and Richard Porter discuss The Beatles Fab Four Cities on the “She Said She Said” podcast, HEAD HERE

 

To discover more about Ryan’s Beatles Tours of New York City, HEAD HERE

 

To follow Susan Ryan on social media, HEAD HERE

 

[i] The original lyrics to “In My Life” may be viewed here

[ii] Sheff, David, The Playboy Interviews with John Lennon and Yoko Ono, p. 116-117

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Rubber Soul Deep Dive Part 9: Girl

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Side Two, Track Two

“Ah, Girl!!!”

 

by Jude Southerland Kessler and Robert Rodriguez

 

Throughout 2021, the Fest for Beatles Fans blog has been exploring the intricacies of The Beatles’ transitional 1965 LP, Rubber Soul. This month, our Fest friend Robert Rodriguez, award-winning author of Revolver: How The Beatles Reimagined Rock’n’Roll and Solo in the 70s: John, Paul, George, and Ringo (1970-1980), as well as distinguished podcast host of “Something About The Beatles,” joins Jude Southerland Kessler, author of The John Lennon Series, for a fresh, new look at the exciting second track of Side Two of this remarkable LP.

 

What’s Standard:

 

Date Recorded: 11 November 1965

Time Recorded: 6 p.m. – 7 a.m. (Work was also done on “You Won’t See Me,” “Wait,” and “I’m Looking Through You”)

Studio: EMI Studios, Studio 2

 

Tech Team:

Producer: George Martin

Engineer: Norman Smith

Second Engineer: Some sources say Mike Stone. Some say Ken Scott.

Stats: Recorded in only two takes. “Best” take was Take 2. However, three superimpositions were needed to complete the song. One for Lennon’s lead, one for backing vocals by Paul and George, and the last for George’s concluding solo.

 

Instrumentation and Musicians:

John Lennon, the composer, sings lead vocal and plays his 1964 Gibson J-160E acoustic guitar

Paul McCartney sings backing vocals and plays bass on his 1964 Rickenbacker 4001S bass

George Harrison sings backing vocals and plays lead in superimposition #3 on his 12-string Framus Hootenanny 5/024

Ringo Starr plays one of his Ludwig Oyster Black Pearl Super Classic drum sets in studio.

Thanks to Jerry Hammack and his superb The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, for this information.

 

Sources: Lewisohn, The Complete Beatles Chronicle, 205-206, Lewisohn, The Recording Sessions, 68, Womack, Long and Winding Roads: The Emerging Artistry of The Beatles, 121-122, Margotin and Guesdon, All the Songs, 298-299, Winn, Way Beyond Compare, 375-376, Hammack, The Beatles Recording Reference Manual, Vol. 2, 96-97, Turner, A Hard Day’s Write, 95, Riley, Tell Me Why, 164-165, Spizer, The Beatles for Sale on Parlophone Records, 202, Everett, The Beatles as Musicians: The Quarry Men to Rubber Soul, 310-311, Miles, Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now, 119-120,  and MacDonald, The Beatles: Revolution in the Head, 145.

 

What’s Changed:

 

  1. The introduction of Viennese mandolin and Greek bouzouki sounds as experimentation in The Beatles’ catalogue soars – “Girl” sounded unlike any other Beatles song that fans had ever encountered. John’s high-capo-ed guitar was exotic and was described by MacDonald in The Beatles: Revolution in the Head as very much like the Viennese mandolins that John must have heard on Hamburg radio stations in the first few visits to the German port city. (p. 145) That backing, coupled with George’s unique concluding solo, edged “Girl” as far from the traditional Mersey Beat sound as any Beatles creation had ever dared…thus far.

 

George Harrison’s striking concluding lead left experts guessing about its creation for years. Early accounts of the 11 November recording session had Harrison playing a Greek instrument, the bouzouki. Even George Martin, at one point, said that he remembered Harrison performing the song’s concluding solo on that instrument. (Spizer, 202) Later, however, Paul McCartney just as adamantly averred that he recalled Harrison using his guitar with the capo placed very high on the neck to produce the unusual and tinny bouzouki sound. Barry Miles quotes Paul as stating, “We did it on acoustic guitars, not bouzoukis.” (Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now, 119-120) Whatever the methodology, the effect was (and is) singular and enchanting.

 

As Kenneth Womack observed in Long and Winding Roads: The Emerging Artistry of The Beatles, “Simulating a bouzouki-like sound on his Hootenanny, George play[ed] an intricate Greek melody that afford[ed] the track…an Old World resonance.” (p. 122) Rubber Soul had already introduced the sound of the sitar in “Norwegian Wood.” Now, the tone and cadence of another little-known instrument was introduced to listeners by the adventurous Beatles. As the boys moved decidedly away from the “pop” sound that was their staple as late as early 1965, the inclusion of innovative, world music was rapidly becoming John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s “new normal.” (See the chart entitled “Population of The Beatles Early and Experimental Style Features” in Dr. Walter Everett’s The Beatles as Musicians, The Quarry Men to Rubber Soul, p. 311. Also, please read Dr. Everett’s list of instruments that were in the studio during the Rubber Soul sessions on p. 310. The leap into experimentation is dramatic with the advent of Rubber Soul and enhanced with Revolver).

 

  1. A penchant toward more acoustic flavors on this LP – The original recording of “Girl” included George Harrison performing on an electric guitar with fuzz distortion. This rendition was removed as the acoustic sound became Lennon’s preferred medium. With extraordinary songs such as “Michelle,” “Norwegian Wood,” “Nowhere Man,” and “In My Life” populating this LP, The Beatles begin to venture away from the merry “tea-cup rattling” of “She Loves You” and “I Want To Hold Your Hand.” In 1966, Revolver would take them even further from the sounds of the early 60s. Rubber Soul gives us “an early clue to the new direction.”

 

  1. A tad of naughtiness in a song of desire – John Lennon’s very intimate inhalation (created, George Martin explained, by a special compressor used on Lennon’s voice) wasn’t the only bit of sexy innuendo in this second track on Side Two. Paul and George covertly (they thought) sang “tit-tit-tit-tit” to John’s passionate sigh of “Ah, Girrrrrl!” When George Martin questioned them about the phrase, so the story goes, they claimed to be singing “dit-dit-dit,” but Martin stated that he knew what they were saying. He shrugged and let it pass.

 

Now, for a “fresh new look” at “Girl,” we turn to author Robert Rodriguez, who invented the Fab Four FAQ series, recently hosted the very successful online conference Fab4ConJam, served as “Featured Author” at Beatles at the Ridge, and has been a beloved Special Guest Speaker at The Fest for Beatles Fans for years. Jude Southerland Kessler recently sat down with Rodriguez to discuss Lennon’s innovative and personal composition, “Girl.”

 

Jude Southerland Kessler: Robert, it’s a joy to get to work with the remarkable author who opened my eyes to the real significance and importance of Revolver via your incredible book Revolver: How The Beatles Reimagined Rock’n’Roll. That book completely changed my whole perspective on the LP…for the better. It’s a book everyone should read!

 

But our focus today is on Revolver’s predecessor, Rubber Soul, and specifically on the track, “Girl.” So let me ask you, early on, many listeners assumed that the “sizzle-sound” following John’s intonation of the word, “Girl!” was the sound of a cymbal. Of course, now we know it’s the sound of John’s audible inhale. Tell our readers, if you would, what Norman Smith did to create that vocal effect: the sound of ecstasy.

 

Robert Rodriguez: For the second time during the production of Rubber Soul, The Beatles requested an unusual manipulation of the EQ to distort the sound; again – as they had with the guitars on “Nowhere Man” – boost the treble up high, creating a sound from John’s intake of air that nearly matched the sound of Ringo’s brushed cymbal work. It is entirely likely that they were simply looking for a cool new sound to add to the track to give it an air of distinction and weren’t going for a particular evocation. However, given that this was the “pot” album, as compared to Revolver, the “acid” album, it would be naive to ignore the possibility of the effect as emulating taking a hit on a joint. The Beatles loved to sneak little inside jokes into their recordings, and in the case of “Girl,” this naughty touch alongside the backing vocal part on the bridge would’ve doubled their (guilty) pleasure.

 

Kessler: “Girl” is a quite sophisticated song, musically. Naturally, the usual intricate Beatles harmonies are in play, but so much more is at work. Tel us about some of the instruments that are used to create an exotic sound.

 

Rodriguez: As was often the case throughout the Rubber Soul sessions, The Beatles and their producer – though squeezed for time to write and record the album by deadline – would experiment with ideas to broaden their sonic palette. To their credit, simply having an idea didn’t justify using it; it had to be a good idea to make the final cut, and The Beatles’ recordings are evidence enough of the superb quality control standards they adhered to. Perhaps the ultimate example of this is “12-Bar Original” – a recording that they took seriously enough to spend precious studio time on, rehearsing and tracking a pair of takes before abandoning the experiment as an unremarkable failure.

“Girl” provides a further example of this thinking, in that we now know that though the final released performance features acoustic instrumentation (excepting Paul’s bass), a fuzz-distorted Harrison electric was tried out, but ultimately rejected. (A similar idea was tried out four years later for “Here Comes The Sun” and thankfully shelved). Maybe it was because they came up with a better idea: a sound that has been described by writers who should know better as a Greek bouzouki — an exotic stringed instrument not typically heard much on pop records.

 

But while the origins of the sound may be Greek-inspired (Paul has said as much), it was actually performed by George on his Framus Hootenanny 12-string guitar. The attack of his picking the strings is sharper than usual, giving a staccato effect (with no ringing out), suggesting an austere sonic tone that matches the lyric describing the title character’s early Christianity teachings: that heaven was for those who suffered deprivation. It’s a brilliant touch that we as listeners can come up with any number of creative suggestions for what the intent behind it was, when – per Occam’s Razor – it was probably nothing more profound than a pleasing sound that was fresh at the time.

 

Kessler: Cynthia Lennon once said that this song was about her. In April 1995’s Q magazine, she said, “The only song that I thought might be something to do with me was ‘Girl,’ but of course John isn’t here to say anymore.” However, when asked about “Girl” during his life, John claimed that the song was about an ideal girl (although this girl is far from ideal in many ways), a girl who turned out to be Yoko. Once, he stated that the description of the girl in the bridge referred to the Christian church. What’s your take on the identity of this “Girl”?

 

Rodriguez: Honestly, I find it difficult to understand why any woman would choose to identify with the character described in this song: she’s punishing and apparently warped by early years of religious education. But someone better qualified in psychoanalysis than I can probably provide a more satisfactory answer as to why John identified the character in this song as a “dream girl,” though technically nightmares are dreams, too. As described, the decision to keep this woman around (though he characterizes the choice as hers: “the girl who came to stay”) comes with ambiguity: he’s clear-headed enough to recognize his desire for her as something punitive (“…makes you sorry”), yet he is without regrets. That alone suggests a desire to be punished, which aligns nicely with her own worldview, shaped by the church, that states “pain will lead to pleasure.” Thus, John is describing a situation where he accepts day-to-day unhappiness and being made to feel a fool by her (and in front of his friends, no less) by a woman incapable of graciously accepting a compliment, all for the sake of a future reward, in this world or the next. John’s describing the “girl” he sings about as someone who “turned out to be Yoko” may be more revealing than he intended; he might inadvertently be indicating difficulties in a seemingly faultless relationship.

 

Kessler: Margotin and Guesdon claim that John waited 15 years to write the sequel to “Girl,” and that song was “Woman.” Robert, do you agree or disagree with this assessment and why?

 

Rodriguez: For something to be a “sequel,” it has to acknowledge its antecedent and either build upon it or deviate from it, does it not? I think Lennon was trying to come up with a compelling connection between the two songs, but I don’t hear it. Between the two, I hear “Girl” as the much more compelling composition: in addition to everything else it offers as a performance and as a recording, the lyrical ambivalence is a marvel to behold. There is much to unpack in its mixed signals – someone unpleasant and difficult as an ideal – and yet remaining the object of profound desire.

 

“Woman,” in contrast, is – to my ears anyway – much more facile and shallow, while seemingly striving for the perception of depth. (The opening remark about the other half of the sky sounds profound, without actually saying much of anything). The narrator in “Woman” gushes on and on about the debt of gratitude owed (“…for showing me the meaning of success” – was this a comment on Yoko’s financial acumen, handling their business affairs?) while lamenting his own ingratitude and thoughtlessness. The song takes on the air of a religious hymn, with offers of praise and loads of “I’m not worthy.” As such, it’s hard for me personally to enjoy to any great depth, or to see as anything more weighty than his myriad other mea culpa songs (“Jealous Guy,” “Aisumasen,” “Forgive Me (My Little Flower Princess),” etc).

 

By the end of his life, in the promotion of Double Fantasy, John projected an air of having figured life out: his relationship with Yoko as being some kind of summit of both ideal romantic love and a wholly-encompassing creative partnership. To me, it rings hollow, especially when contrasted with his former songwriting partner, who made the same point about his own life partner without loudly banging on about it; instead, providing an example that was as interactive with the world as John and Yoko’s was sealed off from it. Contrast this with the 25-year-old Beatle who, throughout Rubber Soul, describes deep social connections (“In My Life,” “The Word”) and his place in society (“Nowhere Man”), as well as a series of women who are apparently self-sufficient (“Girl,” “Norwegian Wood”) that he connects with. Personally, I know which artist I find more interesting.

 

To learn more about Robert Rodriguez, HEAD HERE

To follow Robert on Facebook, HEAD HERE

To hear Robert’s podcast, “Something About The Beatles,” HEAD HERE

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December 8th — 35 years on

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From Fest Founder and Director Mark Lapidos:

 

Time is a concept. It really doesn’t exist. You can’t touch it, feel it, breathe it. It is basically a demarcation line of events in a lifetime.

 

Well, this event was a life-changer for so many of us. None of us who were around will ever forget the moment we heard. It was the worst moment in my life. Perhaps John figured out how to stop time, because that moment wasn’t 35 years ago. It just can’t be. Maybe it was last year or two years ago.

 

Time doesn’t work so well when dealing with events like this one. “Life is very short and there’s no time.” There, he said it in song — there is no time! 

 

And yet here we are, still wondering how the world would be different had John lived. His voice was singular. I know in my heart he would have made a big difference (plus given us a lost wealth of music).

 

We are left with only those ideas in our brains of what would be different. We know we can not alter the past, but the past is a function of time, which is a concept. John lives in all of our hearts and that will never change. I miss him.

 

All you need is love…

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Alternate John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band

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44 years ago today, John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band was released.
 
The album, which was John’s first legit solo venture, was powerful, raw, honest, and emotional, and is listed at #22 on the Rolling Stone Top 500 Albums of All-Time list.
 
Recently, we put together a live version of Rubber Soul. For John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band, we’ve put together a version made up of alternate studio takes, acoustic takes, and demos…
 
Mother (alternate studio version):
 

 
Hold On (take 24, with false starts):
 

 
I Found Out (alternate studio version):
 

 
Working Class Hero (demo):
 

 
Isolation (alternate studio version):
 

 
Remember (outtake from studio sessions):
 

 
Love (John Lennon Anthology version):
 

 
Well Well Well (acoustic demo):
 

 
Look At Me (acoustic version):
 

 
God (alternate studio version):
 

 
My Mummy’s Dead (acoustic demo):
 

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