Daryl Easlea | BBC

After the Show Came the Reality

Frac­tured, dis­lo­cated and expan­sive, The Bea­t­les, housed in its leg­endary, embossed plain white sleeve, came out in Novem­ber 1968 at a time when both the group and the world had changed irrev­o­ca­bly. Maybe every­thing wasn’t going to be alright as John Lennon was sug­gest­ing here on “Rev­o­lu­tion 1″.

After writ­ing dozens of songs while med­i­tat­ing in India in the spring, the group returned to Abbey Road (and Tri­dent) and recorded over 30 tracks of new mate­r­ial across sum­mer 1968. When you think of how unrest had begun to sim­mer within the group’s ranks (Yoko Ono arriv­ing in the stu­dio; Apple form­ing; Ringo leav­ing and then return­ing) and how broad the album’s palette of sounds (blue­beat, heavy metal, folk, doo-wop to name a few), The Bea­t­les still man­ages to hang together like few other works.

The Lennon and Paul McCart­ney stereo­types are at once rein­forced, yet also dis­missed – few would have thought “Good Night” would have come from the pen of Lennon; or “Hel­ter Skel­ter” from McCart­ney. Away from the set-pieces, it’s the doo­dles that delight – George Harrison’s “Savoy Truf­fle” is a fine coun­ter­weight to “While My Gui­tar Gen­tly Weeps”; “Everybody’s Got Some­thing To Hide Except For Me And My Mon­key” bal­ances the grav­i­tas of “Rev­o­lu­tion 1″.

Given that it also con­tains Lennon, Ono and Harrison’s nine-minute noise col­lage “Rev­o­lu­tion 9″ and McCartney’s gen­uinely point­less “Wild Honey Pie”, Pro­ducer George Mar­tin always opined that it would have made a splen­did sin­gle album; men­tally com­pil­ing your own ver­sion has since become almost a national pastime.



Review: by Daryl Easlea | BBC
17 April 2007