The Solute Record Club: The Beatles – Past Masters Disc Two

If there is any collection of the Beatles that show just how drastic the progression of the band was between Rubber Soul and the band’s end, it is the second sides of Past Masters. From some of the best examples of pop Beatles era to the strange psychedelic and Indian influences and the song writing that birthed from those explorations. Among all that is some undisputed classics So, let’s not waste anymore time. Let’s go:

“Day Tripper”: Built off one of the bands most simple and most memorable riffs, this was written in the same three day period of “Drive My Car”, and in the tone of the song alone that shows. Like the Rubber Soul opening track, its joyous and overtly humorous, here using the phrase “Day Tripper” as a way to define a certain kind of hippie poseur (this is all the more interesting to me when you remember that Rubber Soul, or “plastic soul”, was a term directly named at poseurs). That kind of sardonic humour definitely seems the work of John, which makes it all the more interesting that it is Paul who sings the main verses, making lines “got a good reason for taking the easy way out” feel all the more stronger coming from a less confrontational demeanour. But John’s bite still comes through, both in the chorus and in the killer guitar solo. Hell of a trip.

“We Can Work It Out”: If you want evidence of touring schedule effecting the band to the point of exhaustion, look no further than the performance of “We Can Work It Out” which was made into a music video, where John and Paul keep trying to look like they are still enthused with performing, with George and Ringo having stopped trying. You won’t however find that in the song itself, with one of Paul’s most optimistic vocal performances, which makes the lyrics themselves seem more optimistic even with lines about struggling to see another “do I have to keep talking until I can’t go on?”. The growing complexity of the rhythm section is seen here too, with George’s inspiration to turn the middle eight into a German Waltz being the strange transition that becomes swaying highlight of the track.

“Paperback Writer”: You could tell that Paul could tap deep into the unconscious of the novel writer, because he perfectly encapsulated the kind of author who writes a novel of “a thousand pages” and still feel that they are not done (it is said that this song is based on a budding Martin Amis, and I really want this to be true). Although the harmonies are more than a little indebted to The Beach Boys, when it moves directly from the to the Rickenbacker powered through a loud speaker, it becomes a different beast entirely. Indeed, more than anything else, the sudden contrast between the sparse harmonies and the blown out guitars reminds me of the contrapuntal dynamic of 80’s alternative rock onwards.

“Rain”: Although “Paperback Writer” is a classic Beatles single, it would be the B-Side of that single that would not only be considered maybe the best B-Side of the band’s career, but the creative impetus for the Revolver sessions going forward. The chords are simple but effective, falling slow but hitting hard like the rain in question, and being the glue holding John’s lead and backing vocals together. But although the sleeping, traipsing guitar should be singled out, its the work of the rhythm section that makes this song so memorable. Paul’s high melodic bass is one thing, providing the bounce to the otherwise meditative qualities of George and John (made even so by those backwards vocals, which would prove to be important for the Revolver sessions going onwards). But the standout here is Ringo, in a performance that he and many others to be the greatest in his whole Beatles run, with complicated fills, syncopation and stops, culminating into a percussive creativity that a lot of drummers would simply not allow themselves to have.

“Lady Madonna”: Part of the comic, absurd tone that made up many of the songs on The Beatles, as well as that album’s penchant for classic rock and roll pastiche, this takes one of the most reverential symbols in Christian canon and makes a rollocking, upbeat ode to the working classic women of the towns that the band grew up in. That upbeat tone reaches jolly comic levels in the brass sections, or more specifically the predominant faux-brass noises of the band that sound like farting through toilet tubes. It’s the kind of humorous studio experimentations that Queen would go use to their fullest conclusion on A Night at the Opera with songs like “Seaside Rendezvous”. Certainly didn’t impress the session musicians, like Ronnie Scott, who where brought to the equation with a previously unflattering mix, but future remasters have brought their masterful work to more prominence, as they should be.

“The Inner Light”: George’s third excursion into Indian Classical is also his most upbeat and danceable composition, with band brought in a variety of musicians playing instruments whose names I will not even pretend to recognise, and combining it with elements of raga rock (though some of the instrumentation has a kind of celtic feel, which I presume was not intentional). “The more one travels, the less one knows” is the perfect line to explain how the Beatles, through there constant touring and travelling, transformed from definitive pop rock artists to experimenting with styles that most people, including them, were unfamiliar with.

“Hey Jude”: The band’s most well known epic came from the smallest of origins; Paul McCartney wanting to cheer up Julian, John Lennon’s son, in the wake of his parent’s divorce. From that nugget of sincerity birthed the pop rock anthem to end all anthems, from the forceful piano line to Paul’s warming, friendly pleas to finding yourself and your own peace in the world (along with the line “the movement you need is on your shoulder” which John begged him to keep in). The band compliment the action with quiet guitars, backing vocals and plenty a tambourine to go around. Then finally, of course, is the the large orchestra, which along of dozen of people make up the iconic final calls of “Hey Jude” (with John and Paul showing off their soul sides in the process). Four minutes is a weird amount to listen to the same coda and over again, and the over effect when listening to it on headphones is something hypnotic. But in parties, in concert halls, in world gathers, it along with “Bohemian Rhapsody” (so many Queen comparisons today!), are the two songs most likely to get an entire auditorium of people singing and waving their arms in unison. The birth of arena rock. Thanks Julian. Sorry you’re probably beyond sick of it now.

“Revolution”: I’ve talked before about the lyrics in this version, and how the singular word change makes it clear in this version that John (and, representatively, the band) are against violent means to achieve revolution. So lets talk instead about the different instrumentation in this version, the guitars which compared to the album version are violent in their own way. One of the fuzz guitars spin and repeats, whilst the other slaps sound at varying and unpredictable moments (you know, the first time you listen). The bass meanwhile, low in both tone and mixing, making the combined swirl and hit more obvious, yet still having the feel of pulling back. Then there is session musician Nicky Hopkins’ electric piano work, just as chaotic, yet just as ultimately delightful.

“Get Back”: I think the Let it Be version losing the echo effect makes the song feel a little thinner than this single version. Other than that and the lack of studio outtakes, it’s still the same take, so it’s still the same great song.

“Don’t Let Me Down”: The single from Let it Be that inexplicably was not on the album is not only in my Top 10 Beatles Songs, but my personal favourite song in the Beatles’ discography that could be classed as a traditional “love song”. John’s performance here is soulful, vulnerable, dolloping the kind of self misery combined with the salvation of love that would colour so much of his first (non-experimental) and best solo album John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band. The Get Back project was meant to be a return to the band’s initial style, but the songwriting and playing here is too mature for that; the guitar playing from lead to bass moves from light to morose, and through a variety of smooth time signature changes that Ringo’s evocative playing makes effortless, almost unrecognisable. And finally there’s the late great Billy Preston, brought into the band exclusively to divide tensions, and with track having that bleed into the song itself. The organ playing is smooth, soulful, cradling the song in a dream like state that John’s height of ecstasy has taken him.

“The Ballad of John and Yoko”: The song is certainly about the titular couple, and the criticism they were suffering from fans (in much documented and cruel ways) and from their protesting from the famous “Ben-In” (which I do all the time, but you never see me pretend it is a protest!). But subtextual this is the ballad of John and Paul. With the other two gone and the idea of the song thought of and completed in a day, the only two band members in the studio (with returning Engineering Geoff Emerick), the two come up with the perfect instrumentation quickly, from the guitar licks the rocking pianos to a killer Paul bassline. In what is often said to be the most tumultuous time for the pair, here they just seem to be having good clean fun. And making great music in the process.

“Old Brown Shoe”: There’s something about the blues rock of this song not just feeling like an anomaly from George Harrison’s compositions, but from the band in this period of time. The band did many a rock and blues pastiche on The Beatles, but between the bass, the galloping percussion, the short solos and that ragtime piano, it feels more like the band getting to their root than many of the song that eventually made it onto the Let it Be album. It’s the themes of “Hello Goodbye” through the lens of Help! At least it keeps up the quality that those two things imply.

“Across the Universe”: I forgot if this is the controversial opinion or not (Answer: neither are. It’s all emotional truth and hyperbole around here) but I greatly prefer the version of this song as appears here than on Let it Be. Everything here just assists to create the spacey, world changing feel of the babyish lyrics themselves, from the higher key to the speed to the guitars going heavy on the wah-wah pedals (or the Leslie Speakers) to the falsetto backing vocals to the final (and beginning) bird calls. It makes you realise why it was sort fit to name the jukebox musical after this song: it has life.

“Let it Be”: Not much to say here. Again, this mix is better than the album version. The backing instrumentation is much more suited to the angelic quality of the music, and although the Let it Be solo rocks harder, this just sits in the song with ease. And the obvious wrong chord towards the end is a charming, homemade touch.

“You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)”: As is fitting, the songs that begin and end this disc are the only ones where Paul and John take equal vocal duties. Well, I say, but no one seems have taken lead duties on this song. Instead its sound and mix seem like a studio outtake, almost a lo-fi quality at some points, with all the band doing comical sounds and a variety of jovial instrumentations. This definitely is not the best song on the collection It is as though, for the final song of this collection, we are listening to a song that shows the band creating, going crazy, simply having fun. Because, in the end, that is when the band were at their best.

And to answer your question John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr: Yes. We certainly do know your names. And we always will.

What do you think though?

The Beatles Album Rankings