Beatles from worst to first 1 (206-191)Posted on May 5, 2006 by olneyce

Alright, here we are at the very bottom. These are the songs that really test the maxim “there’s no such thing as a bad Beatles song.” And while there’s not a song here that I really dislike, even with my absolute love of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, I can still recognize that it might have been better if they had left most of these songs back in the studio.

So, without further ado…

206. Wild Honey Pie from The White Album

So this is the worst Beatles song, but it’s not even really fair to call it that. It’s only a minute long and is more a connector than it is a song in its own right. However, I decided that I would include it, and since I have, it gets the spot at the bottom. That said, it’s not terrible or offensive – it’s just annoying. And while I don’t find it to be particularly pleasant, it’s not like I have to lunge over to hit the skip button (or pick up the needle back in my vinyl days) when “Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da” finishes, either. The circular feel to the song is even a little interesting. Still, not very good.

205. Boys from Please Please Me

The lowest ranked of their legitimate songs. It almost doesn’t seem fair to poor Ringo to saddle him with the lowest spot. It’s not his fault that he didn’t really have much of a singing voice. And this isn’t a terribly recorded song. The drumming is actually pretty solid. But the backing vocals are a little off, and bop-shoe-op, bop-bop-shoe-op just doesn’t fit on a Beatles song. And the guitar solo is pretty weak. And why is Ringo singing “boys, yeah!” anyways? The rest of the song is about girls. I guess there’s a chance they were working on Gender Trouble a couple decades before Judith Butler…

204. Little Child from With The Beatles

If not for John’s voice, this would easily have been their worst song. The lyrics, good god, the lyrics! Wow. “little child, little child, little child won’t you dance with me, I’m so sad and lonely, baby take a chance with me.” And the harmonica solo is pretty weak. And really there’s just not much positive to say. But John does sing it pretty well, so it’s rescued from being the absolute worst. Just barely.

203. You Know My Name (Look up the Number) from Past Masters, Vol 2

This song is vaguely Monty Python-esque, though it’s not really all that funny. It’s more weird than anything else. It’s yet another song that I don’t hate, but I don’t really have much desire to listen to, either. And since it’s tucked away as the last track on the second Past Masters album, it’s very very easy to avoid it. Given that, it’s almost certainly my least-listened to Beatles song –

probably not more than 20 times ever. I would guess virtually every other song is at least in the 60-70 range, if not far, far more.

202. Why Don’t We Do It In The Road? from The White Album

When I first got the White Album as a youngster, this song made me very uncomfortable. I mean, jeez, “why don’t we just do it in the road?” Now that I am older, it doesn’t seem quite as scandalous as it once did, but I can’t really say it does much for me. I do like to hear Paul getting a little down and dirty (if you’ll pardon the pun), and the first two seconds are a pretty neat little drum beat, but I could certainly have lived with a trimmed down White Album that excluded this track.

201. Dizzy Miss Lizzy from Help!200. Bad Boy from Past Masters, Vol 1

These two songs go together pretty closely in my mind. I used to actively dislike them both (if I had made this list 5 or 6 years ago these would certainly have been the bottom two), but I’ve come around a little bit. Both are covers. Both have the classic John rock-and-roll vocals. Both are pretty tight recordings. And both feature that chiming, piercing guitar that just drives into my skull and makes me hurt a little bit inside. “Dizzy Miss Lizzie” ranks slightly lower simply because of my my anger at its placement on Help!, right after what would have been the perfect album-closer of Yesterday. It really ruins the tender mood and I can’t help but thinking about how jarring it is, even when I listen to it outside of the album context.

199. Revolution 9 from The White Album

I used to hate this track, considering it to be total nonsense gibberish. Then, I had a phase where I convinced myself it was genius. Then I went back to hating it. I’ve settled somewhere in the middle now. I definitely have occasional moments where I really get into it. The pastiche is pretty cool in some places, and it’s definitely interesting if only as a historical artifact. Still, it’s quite a bit to digest, and I really have to be in the mood to be willing to listen to it. — If I was making a list of most significant or interesting Beatles songs, this would probably be quite a bit higher as I really do think it’s compelling as a work of art. It’s just not a song I really have much desire to listen to.

198. One After 909 from Let It Be

This was an old song that they had kicking around for years before it finally showed up on Let It Be. Frankly, I don’t think it would have been missed. It’s pretty innocuous. It’s interesting as an example of a song that would have fit perfectly into their early period played by the 1969 version of the band. So in that sense, it helps you see how they had progressed, but in some ways were coming full circle back to wanting to just play some straighforward rock and roll. But I can’t say it really does much for me other than as a signpost. The version on Let it Be Naked is marginally better and is the only song from that disc that I think is noticeably better than the original.

197. Everybody’s Trying To Be My Baby from Beatles For Sale196. Honey Don‘t from Beatles For Sale

Two covers from an album full of inessential covers. The Beatles clearly never produced a bad album, but by far the closest they came is Beatles for Sale. They look tired on the album cover, and the music sounds tired. Even the title suggests that they were a little overwhelmed by Beatlemania. For me, these two tracks pretty much exemplify the notion of “inessential Beatles songs.” They aren’t terrible – they just aren’t really that interesting. Ringo and George take the vocals and it isn’t really the finest moment for either, and the music is serviceable but doesn’t really jump out at you. “Honey Don’t” is clearly the better of the two, and probably could have ranked a few slots higher if it wasn’t so easy to just lump them together.

195. Money (That’s What I Want) from With The Beatles

This is one of those songs I’ve always felt like I should like more than I do. It’s a fun little song. And John does good work with the vocals. But, I don’t know. Something seems like it’s missing. There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.

194. Act Naturally from Help!

The last in series of consecutive lowly-ranked covers. It’s a nice little Ringo country-western song. There’s not really anything wrong with it. It just…you know…is kind of boring. Sorry Ringo.

193. Sie Leibt Dich from Past Masters, Vol 1

Well, it’s in German, so that’s interesting, I guess. But “She leibt dich, yeah, yeah, yeah!”? It just sounds goofy.

192. She’s a Woman from Past Masters, Vol 1

“My love don’t give me presents. I know that she’s no peasant.” There. That’s why this song is ranked lowly. I mean, come on Paul. Beyond that, I’ve never liked the strategy of combining the percussion with a single guitar note over and over and over and over and over. They do this on a fair number of songs, but usually there’s enough going on around it to ease the sound. Here, for

the whole song, it’s just sitting there in the left channel: whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, until my ears start bleeding. Ick. This is all a shame, because the song behind all of this is perfectly good. I just can’t get over it.

191. Hold Me Tight from With The Beatles

What’s the deal with Paul’s voice on this song? It really does sound like he’s got a cold or something. There’s not really much to say about this one. It’s pretty standard early-sixties fare. Inane lyrics and all. It’s as good as a lot of stuff you’ll hear on the Oldies station, but it stacks up pretty weakly against the rest of the Beatles catalog.

Beatles from worst to first 2 (190-176)Posted on May 6, 2006 by olneyce

190. I Wanna Be Your Man from With The Beatles

Here we find yet another lowly-ranked early Ringo song. It’s a little too trebly for my tastes. The story goes that it was written in an afternoon to give to the Rolling Stones for a single, while they (the Stones) sat in and watched, impressed with the Lennon/McCartney writing team. Neither version of the song is all that impressive, though, I have to say.

189. Blue Jay Way from Magical Mystery Tour

This song just doesn’t really work. It’s soooooo slowly paced and the vaguely psychedelic background effects don’t really go anywhere. It’s hard to think of it as anything more than plodding, which is not really the term you’d want to attach to a song. I do like the unintentional tension between the real lyric of “please don’t be long” and the misheard one of “please don’t belong.” But it’s one of the few Beatles songs that really has no ability to transcend its era. This is a song that could only have been recorded in the late 60s and it probably needs to stay there.

188. Love Me Do from Please Please Me

This was their first single, which is weird, since it’s probably among their worst songs. But everyone has to start somewhere, even The Beatles. I prefer the version on Please Please Me (with Andy White drumming) to the one on the first Past Masters disc (with Ringo), though it really has nothing to do with the percussion. I just think the vocals are a little tighter and John’s harmonica is better. Anyways… “Love, love me do, you know I love you, I’ll always be true, so pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease…love me do.” Yeah, that’s why it’s this far down.

187. Kansas City/Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey! from Beatles For Sale

Many of my lowest ranked songs are, like this one, covers of some of The Beatles’ heroes of early rock and roll. I guess I just think that they so quickly transcended their roots and were producing more complex, interesting, and good music almost immediately. Still, there’s

something to be said for a solid cover of a blues classic. And while I don’t really enjoy this song that much personally, it’s a perfectly good cover of a perfectly good song. I just think virtually any Lennon/McCartney song is even better.

186. Slow Down from Past Masters, Vol 1

This song starts so promisingly. The swooping piano intro and the quickly moving beat lead into a great vocal performance by John, including a couple of great screams. It does get a little repetitive, but even with that, it would still have ranked quite a bit higher if not for the MAJOR demerits it receives for containing what is without a doubt the worst guitar solo in any Beatles song. I have no idea what happened here, but it’s just not even close to the beat and gets further and further away as it progresses. By the end, I’m convinced that George was just plucking random strings hoping for it to end.

185. For You Blue from Let It Be

George definitely gets the short shrift in my rankings, with a lot of his later blues-influenced songs not faring very well. It’s not that I think they’re terrible – it just isn’t really my thing. This song sounds basically identical for the entire track. You could start at any moment in the song and really have no way of telling. Except for John’s solo on the slide guitar, which is pretty cool.

184. What Goes On from Rubber Soul

I really want to like this song but every year I realize it’s not quite as good as I thought the year before. I love Ringo, but his singing just doesn’t really do it for me here. Beyond that, the guitar playing on this song just drives me nuts. It’s just a series of short notes. It sounds like perpetually aborted attempts to actually string something together. I just can’t deal with it. And it’s a shame because this could be a good song, if it had been produced differently, I think.

183. The Word from Rubber Soul

This song is the dividing line for me. I really feel like it should be higher, but I can’t really justify moving it ahead of any of the songs above it. That will be the case with virtually every song from here on. It’s ranked where it is because other songs are EVEN BETTER, not because it itself is bad. To put it another way: everything below here is a song I could probably do without. Everything above here is a song I actively enjoy, to some degree. “The Word” is one of the first hippie-oriented songs, about the power of the word: love. And I appreciate it for that. But for some reason I can’t quite define, I’ve just never enjoyed the tune. Maybe it’s the almost-falsetto voice. Or the not-quite-right arrangement. They were really great about incorporating all kinds of instruments and making it fit, but the harmonium feels a little misplaced here.

182. Savoy Truffle from The White Album

Yet another lowly place George song. The horn section adds a nice effect here, and like many White Album tracks, the musicianship is pretty strong – the drumming is good and the guitar solo is well done. Still, let’s face facts: it’s a song about candy. And it inexplicably is lacking in

the driving bass beat that featured so prominently in a number of other songs from this era and which could have really helped the song rock out a little more.

181. A Taste Of Honey from Please Please Me

Paul sure did love these old fashioned songs. And this track shows he could croon with the best of them. That’s about it, though.

180. Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand from Past Masters, Vol 1

Not much to say here. It’s obviously got a great tune, since it’s just “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” and that’s enough to elevate it a little bit, but I can’t conceive of why I would ever choose to listen to this when I could just have the original. Well, novelty, I guess.

179. I Me Mine from Let It Be

Poor George, making his fourth appearance already. It’s weird because I actually prefer George’s first couple solo albums over any of the others, but he does pretty poorly with his Beatles songs. Part of it is that (as I’ve said) I could do with more of “I write soft, pretty songs” George and less of “I’m into the Blues” George. This one, despite having a more enjoyable sound than some of the others, runs into trouble with the lyrics: focusing on ego, existence, and all that stuff. Alan Pollack, who knows more about the Beatles’ songs than basically anyone in the world makes the following comment: “But here, in “I Me Mine”, I fear that George unwittingly traps himself in the pit of self righteousness, not only by his indiscriminite inclusion of “everyone” as his target, but by the essential scenario of the song in which an individual zealously condemns the entire community for being self-centered.” As a counterpoint, his solo album Living in the Material World has some songs along similar themes, but they’ve got a slightly less abrasive, preachy feel.

178. Matchbox from Past Masters, Vol 1

One of many Ringo cover tunes from the early years. It’s one of the better ones, but it still can’t really stand up to the work Lennon and McCartney were doing. The rockabilly beat elevates this a bit, but it’s really more of a placeholder than anything else.

177. Not A Second Time from With The Beatles

I’m a little conflicted on this song. At times it sounds like a close match to some of their weakest early efforts. At others, it seems to hint at the complexity to come. The instrumentation is unobtrustive, to the point of feeling a little lackluster, but maybe that’s the strength of the song – that John is trying to convince her (and himself) that he’s not going to stand for her nonsense any longer but just doesn’t have the willpower to make it stick. There’s an interesting (if somewhat esoteric) take on the song here.

176. Drive My Car from Rubber Soul

I suspect that this is one of the first songs where my low ranking will conflict with a substantial number of Beatles listeners. I don’t know – it just doesn’t do it for me. The “beep beep, beep beep yeah” thing is annoying. And, for some reason, I just can’t deal with Paul’s vocals. They sound atonal, almost grating. All that said, I love the bass, and the piano over the chorus is quite nice.

Beatles from worst to first 3 (175-161)Posted on May 7, 2006 by olneyce

The songs in this group are not significantly ahead of the ones from yesterday. We’re still in the territory of songs that are pleasant enough but I very rarely go out of my way to play. They’ve got some good (occasionally great) elements, but all have their flaws, too.

175. What You’re Doing from Beatles For Sale

It’s got a decent little guitar riff, and the opening drum beat is very solid. This is one of those songs that I may have ranked lower than I would have because of my disappointment in what it fails to do. This has some of the elements of a great little Spector-esque song that would really come over the top. But instead, it just hints at that without ever taking off. The guitar solo in the middle is pretty weak, and the melody is just inexplicably a little bit off. A better production of the song could really have bumped it up a lot, but the version we actually got is just a testament to the fact that even The Beatles made mistakes sometimes.

174. Another Girl from Help!

Don’t really have much to say about this one. Nothing spectacular. I guess it shows how good the Beatles were that thrown-together songs, rushed to be ready for the movie, could still be pretty good.

173. Dr. Robert from Revolver

There are three basic themes in rock and roll. 1) I’m in love; 2) My life is miserable; 3) I have a doctor who prescribes me crazy drugs. This song falls into the third category. So there’s that. It’s got a nice little beat and the “well, well, well, I’m feeling fine” segment is among the best moments on Revolver. Still, it’s definitely the weakest track from the album (which really is praising with a faint damn)

172. Roll Over Beethoven from With The Beatles

There’s really nothing wrong with this song. It’s a great cover, with guitar-playing as good as anything on Chuck Berry’s original, and one of George’s best vocal performances of the early years. So why’s it so low? It’s more to do with my personal tastes than anything else. The Beatles always seem best to me when they’re breaking new ground, or when they’re delving back into less rock-oriented genres. It may seem weird, but The Beatles as a straight-up rock

band have always been the least impressive to me. So this is a faithful translation of Chuck Berry, but I guess I’d just rather hear them cover Smokey Robinson.

171. Love You Too from Revolver

The first song on which they really put the sitar to use. It doesn’t have quite the appeal of the other sitar-songs, though. This is due mostly to the fact that it is very close to the genuine article where a song like Norwegian Wood is really just a regular Beatles song with the sitar as an extra instrument. Even “Within You, Without You” is really two separate musical portions, one the droning Indian-influenced background and the other a George Martin orchestrated, and very Western classical score. So, while I find “Love You To” to be interesting in its faithful effort, I just can’t really get into it. My musical tastes are pretty decidedly western, so I enjoy harmonies and melodies. Which means this is one of a number of Beatles songs where I can appreciate the artistry without necessarily wanting to listen to it all the time.

170. All Together Now from Yellow Submarine

I don’t get mad at this song for being ridiculous, over-the-top, and silly. It’s meant to be that and it works just fine on those terms. It’s just that I have to be in the mood for a silly song to really have any desire to listen to it. And while those moods aren’t exactly uncommon, this song can’t beat out the majority of their catalogue which are more versatile and meaningful. But seriously, who doesn’t love the “Yellow Submarine” movie?

169. I’m Happy Just To Dance With You from A Hard Day’s Night168. Do You Want To Know A Secret from Please Please Me

These songs would be higher if they just didn’t feel so precious. I know that a lot of the songs at the time were the same, but it’s just a little too much for me to deal with. They’re great little 2-minute pop songs, though. “Do You Want to Know a Secret” in particular has an interesting chord progression and the little introduction “You’ll never know how much I really love you; you’ll never know how much I really care” which is never returned to. Both are sung by George, for what it’s worth.

167. The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill from The White Album

Let’s get it out of the way: the three seconds when Yoko sings drag this song down a bit. I really like Yoko, but this song really could have done without her. As for the rest of it, it’s wacky, zany, maybe even kooky. I like the tune fine, and vaguely metaphoric “Shooting an Elephant”-esque story is fine, but it’s not one of their stronger songs.

166. Tell Me What You See from Help!

I really wish this song was better. The arrangement is a little lackluster, and on about a third of the lines, the vocals are just terrible. It almost sounds like they’re trying to spit…out…each…word…sep…er…ate…ly… and enunciate perfectly, which is fine for a grammar school class, but hardly appropriate for rock and roll. It’s really a shame because it’s a beautiful song,

particularly the “look into these eyes now” section. A little bit better done and this could have jumped up 60 or 70 spots.

165. I Want You (She’s So Heavy) from Abbey Road

When I’m in the right mood, I really enjoy this song. When I’m not, I wonder who decided that they needed to spend 8 minutes on the subject of “I want you, I want you so bad it’s driving me mad. She’s so heavy.” I’ve always enjoyed the sudden cut-off at the end and after many listens have become quite good at pinpointing it. As for the song itself, it’s technically very well done, with a neat little bass line, some fine drumming, nice guitar flourishes, a well-placed organ, and the heavy, almost bruising extended coda. Also, I like it as a a counterpoint to the medley which dominates side-two. Back in the days of records that you had to actually get up and turn over, there was something appealing about the symmetry (or lack thereof) in one side being a bunch of tiny songs melded to make one extended song, while the other is a very short song extended for a very long time.

164. Baby It’s You from Please Please Me

A cover from their first album. I’ll admit that I haven’t heard the original so I’m not sure what to compare it to. It does seem like a song more suited to a woman’s voice, but in spite of that, John does a really fantastic making it his own. It’s got a great 50’s feel to it with the sha-la-las and John’s flourishes. They would soon move on to bigger and better things, but if they had never moved past this kind of stuff, they still would have been a pretty great band.

163. I’m Down from Past Masters, Vol 1162. Long Tall Sally from Past Masters, Vol 1

I never used to like these two songs all that much (see my comments on “Roll Over Beethoven”) but I’ve come around on them a bit. They’re frantically paced and feature some of Paul’s best rock-and-roll vocal performances. “Long Tall Sally” was their usual show-closer, and was replaced by “I’m Down” for some of their last concerts. It’s one of the few situations where I can imagine that The Beatles live would be even better than the studio versions. Also, my brother’s band used to do a cover of “I’m Down” that I really enjoyed.

161. Devil In Her Heart from With The Beatles

Not their most impressive cover, but not too shabby either. The back-and-forth dialogue between John and Paul who warn George “she’s got the Devil in her heart,” and George who insists “no, she’s an angel sent to me” is a little cutesy, but it works okay.

Beatles from worst to first 4 (160-141)Posted on May 8, 2006 by olneyce

We’re still pretty low on the list, but I genuinely enjoy all of these songs. There’s a number of early-period pop numbers, a few later tracks (including one that is sure to surprise some folks), and all three of their under-one-minute songs.

160. Honey Pie from The White Album

One of Paul’s many attempts to re-create the music his father loved. It’s got a nicely loping feel, and would feel perfectly in place on one of Paul’s solo albums from the seventies. Which can be either a good or bad thing, depending on how you feel about the post-Beatles Paul. It’s a pleasant-enough song, though it doesn’t knock my socks off.

159. You Like Me Too Much from Help!

Just a nice song by George. I really enjoy the way the harmony and the rising cymbals from the “it’s nice when you believe me / If you leave me” section transition flawlessly into the resumption of the tone of the verse as George’s voice emerges alone: “I will follow you and bring you back…” And I really enjoy the piano which drives the song and gets the centerstage for the middle of the song.

158. Good Night from The White Album

Too much orchestration. Too much with all the background vocals. But in spite of that, this is one of the few Ringo songs where his voice is a PERFECT match. It just makes you feel good, safe even, to listen. It’s a great lullaby. One thing: it really is a perfect fit to end the White Album, especially given that “Revolution #9” is the second-to-last song. After the madness of that track, having such an old-fashioned, yes, even schmaltzy song, is a palate-cleanser, leaving you free to end the album, turn off the lights, and go to sleep unfettered.

157. Her Majesty from Abbey Road

At just 23 seconds, it’s easily the shortest Beatles track. Originally planned as a connector to follow “Mean Mr. Mustard,” it starts with a single chord which would have been the final sound of the previous track. Then, it’s just Paul and his acoustic guitar, singing a little ditty. The story goes that they had no intention of saving it but someone in the studio liked it so much they tacked in on the end and everyone ended up agreeing that it provided just the right amount of comic and emotional relief. The medley is clearly their crowning achievement, and a fitting end to their career, but it might be just a little bit TOO much on its own. The long pause at its conclusion gives everyone a chance to catch their breath, and then drops this song on you, just to remind you that The Beatles are as clever and fun as they are musically talented.

156. Mr. Moonlight from Beatles For Sale

I know a number of folks who would put this among their least favorites. I can understand why. It’s a cover and feels a bit out-of-place with the rest of the Beatles work, particularly with the weird Hammond organ instrumental bridge. But, for some reason, I am strangely attached to the song. I really enjoy the bass/drum dum-dum-dum-dum-BAM lead-up to John belting out “Mr.

Moonlight” which is reversed at the end of the bridge, with the drum-beat and then a series of bass notes.

155. Dig It from Let It Be154. Maggie Mae from Let It Be

These are hardly songs at all, just snippets tossed onto “Let It Be” to help evoke an organic feeling. It was envisioned as an album about the making of an album, thus the inclusion of some of the more playful moments. However, while these are songlets more than songs, they are not throwaways. Both are a bit of fun, musically and lyrically. “Dig It” represents the jam sessions, with playful, even silly lyrics, and a rising sound. “Maggie Mae” is a fun harmony, with John and Paul doing their best to make Henry Higgins scream. An important consideration is the placement of these songs on the album. They bookend “Let It Be” which is very clearly a very powerful, but possibly overly emotional, song. Placing these two on either side of it provides a little relief and helps to lighten the mood a bit.

153. When I Get Home from A Hard Day’s Night

I like the sound of this song, and John’s “I’ll love her more” is devastating, but it loses a whole lot of points for the lyrics. “Whoa-oh, ahhhh.” And then “I’m gonna love her til the cows come home.” Come on guys.

152. Chains from Please Please Me

A great old Goffin/King song. Nothing particularly special going on here, though it’s one of George’s nicer vocals from the early years.

151. Because from Abbey Road

One of those songs that I’ve always felt that I should like more. It’s very pretty. The multi-tracked three-part harmony is great. But it just doesn’t do that much for me, and I don’t really know why. Part of it is that, like most of Abbey Road, when listened to by itself it is not nearly as enjoyable as when listening to the entire album. This is clearly true for the medley, but I think it’s also the case for every song: the composite exceeds the sum of the parts.

150. Ask Me Why Please Please Me

One of their least-sophisticated sounding songs. Also one of their first compositions, which may be closely connected. The lyrics aren’t anything impressive, but the singing is lovely, and on closer listen, you realize that the progression is a little more complicated than it might seem at first. The verses are virtually identical, but they break off at different points to move into either the chorus or the bridge, depending on the location in the song. Moreover, the chorus flits in and out, almost dropping in at random, and exiting in quite different fashion. The first time it ends abruptly, allowing for a sharp return to the verse. The second and third times, it lingers, easing into the bridge and then the fadeout. These changes are minor, but in my mind, they give it just enough weight to sustain it.

149. Taxman from Revolver

It’s a little too repetitive for me, with the same guitar riff driving the whole song. When the second guitar takes on a larger role toward the end, it really helps, but a little more variation in percussion throughout the song would have been great to alter the tone a bit. In spite of that, the lyrics are clever (it’s one of their first non-love songs) and the guitar interlude is great.

148. Every Little Thing from Beatles For Sale

I love the opening guitar. Pretty standard fare otherwise. Two minutes, double-tracked vocals by John, a John/Paul duet for the chorus. He loves her, she’s great, life will be good from now on because they’re together. This will never be among my favorites, but I also can’t really imagine it coming up and me skipping it.

147. Come Together from Abbey Road

Alright, this is probably a lot lower than most people would put this song. What can I say? It just doesn’t do it for me. For all that I love the bass line and John’s spooky lyrics and the guitar riff as he sings “come together…right now…over me,” the song just sounds a little tired, or maybe quiet. It feels like it ought to be coming after you but instead it just treads water. And the outro seems far too long to me. Still a good song, but I rarely find myself thinking “I really should listen to ‘Come Together’ right now.”

146. Misery from Please Please Me

I like this song more than I probably ought to. There’s nothing particularly impressive about it, other than the general impressiveness that goes along with all of their early work. That said, it’s got a great beat, the jauntiness of which provides a nice counterpoint to the downbeat lyrics. And for some reason I just love the descending piano notes that punctuate the bridges.

145. Yes It Is from Past Masters, Vol 1

I like a lot of things about this song, but it loses substantial points because John sounds so bored. Admittedly, the motif of the song is languorous sadness, but he just sounds disinterested more than anything else. It’s not until the chorus that you remember just how great a singer he is. From that point on, the three-part harmony is much stronger, and the emotional impact of the song is clear. But those first 45 seconds or so really drag it down for me.

144. I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party from Beatles For Sale

I really love the chorus to this song. However, the rest of it just doesn’t do much for me. The background harmonies are pleasant, and the guitar solo is nice, but for some reason the vocals just don’t mesh together right. It all sounds a little flat to me (especially on the line “I think I’ll take a walk and look for her” where they unfortunately try to rhyme “care,” “there,” and “her”). Still, that chorus is something else. Really fantastic John/Paul melody.

143. I Need You from Help!

This is a nice little song, though it doesn’t really stun me at all. I have to say that I can’t really get into the organ or whatever it is that is the primary background instrument. It’s more distracting to me than anything else. George provides serviceable vocals, and the low-key tone works fine to convey the feeling of gentle longing.

142. Oh! Darling from Abbey Road

I go back and forth on this song. I love Paul’s vocal performance – it sounds so ragged and fierce. But it also feels kind of tired. And it’s got the annoying single-guitar-note-as-percussion thing going on. Which I really dislike. When I’m in the mood, it would be ranked higher, and when I’m not, it would be quite a bit lower. So I’m putting it here as a compromise.

141. Till There Was You from With The Beatles

Paul really loved these old show tunes, and he does sing them very well. And George plays a nice guitar, too. Though, for some reason, Paul’s pronunciation of ‘saw’ as ‘sarr’ just drives me up the wall.

Beatles from worst to first 5 (140-121)Posted on May 9, 2006 by olneyce

Hello everyone arriving here from the link on the Blogger homepage. Heartache With Hard Work is a blog about music, with some songs available for download, and a (usually fairly lengthy) discussion of those songs. Usually, the emphasis is on new indie music, but this week I am indulging in my first love, The Beatles, and going through their entire catalogue, ranking the songs from worst to first. This is installment number 5.

Stick around, read, and comment if you’d like…

Today we encounter two songs that could end up in last place for some people (both campy tunes by Paul, unsurprisingly), a few songs by George, and a TON of early period Lennon/McCartney tracks. These are also the last of the songs that, as much as I like them, I could live without. Everything above here is basically essential to my continued (semi)functional existence.

140. Birthday from The White Album

Alright, who doesn’t listen to this song on their birthday? I sure do. It’s got a great guitar riff (one of their best, actually. The Beatles never really were that much about guitar riffs), but it doesn’t really do much beyond that.

139. Run For Your Life from Rubber Soul

I have a tough time getting over the misogynistic lyrics. I try to see it as part of the many dualisms in John’s personality (especially given it’s placement on an album with “The Word”), and academically, that makes sense to me, but it’s hard to really LIKE a song about tracking down and hurting a woman. Y’know? Other than that, it’s a really good song.

138. This Boy from Past Masters, Vol 1

Gets extra points for its placement in A Hard Day’s Night. Ringo’s stroll around town while the song plays is just perfect. It’s got a great three-part harmony, and some very nice John solo lyrics. It goes very well with “Yes It Is,” another pretty three-part harmony

137. I’ll Get You from Past Masters, Vol 1

This is one of those “could be a lot higher or could be a lot lower depending on my mood” songs. It’s fairly standard early-Beatles fare, albeit a pretty solid example. But the harmonies are great, I love the opening line “Imagine I’m in love with you” with its presaging of “Imagine” almost a decade later, and I like that the harmonica becomes basically a rhythym instrument, never taking the mainstage but always in the background guiding the tune. And it’s fun to listen to them stumble on the words, but just plug along in the bridge (1:14 to 1:18).

136. Words Of Love from Beatles For Sale

One of my favorite Buddy Holly songs, and they do a pleasant cover. It’s not substantially different than the original, though the harmonies (particularly as the song fades) are quite nice.

135. Rocky Racoon from The White Album

A lot of people don’t like this song, and I totally understand why. It’s almost a guilty pleasure for me. Still, I think people get too caught up in the silly lyrics, and the meandering half-singing half-talking, not-quite-on-a-beat introduction. The vaguely country feel is pleasantly done, and the musical interludes (the harmonica moving to the front for one bar, the piano solo, which makes you feel like you’re in a saloon, etc.) are perfect. And, despite the fact that the song is basically three and a half minutes of the same beat, it doesn’t sound monontonous.

134. Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite! from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

My favorite part of this song is the circus-like atmosphere in the middle when everything sounds like it’s going in circles. The story goes that John had them snip the tape into little pieces and re-assemble them at random. The imagery of the song is fantastic, and it only improves it to know that it’s basically all cribbed from an old poster John had. Talk about extracting genius from the mundane… Oh, and that crazy section of looped sounds? They recorded it, cut the tape into snippets, tossed them in the air, and re-assembled them at random. Delightful.

133. Tell Me Why from A Hard Day’s Night

I see this as the representative example of the Beatles’ early period. They have better songs and worse songs, and this one is pretty much right in the middle. It doesn’t really go anywhere new, but it isn’t totally conventional. It’s got a great harmony, some nice drumming to hold the beat, and an occasional guitar flourish from George. It’s got some of the bitterness and anger that set The Beatles (and John in particular) apart from many other contemporary artists, but it doesn’t feel as visceral as some of their very best songs from this period. I can’t imagine this is anyone’s favorite Beatles song, but I also can’t imagine anyone who hates it.

132. Only A Northern Song from Yellow Submarine

I go back and forth a bit with this one. At times I really enjoy the melody, the chaotic background sounds, and the slyly self-deprecating lyrics. At others it sounds SLOOOOOOOW, the background is distracting, and the lyrics seem a little too accurate to be ironic. The song is about how George constantly got pushed into the background as a songwriter, and about the deal they had signed with meant they didn’t actually own any of their music (they all were owned by Northern Songs Ltd.), which seems pretty unfair, and eventually led to Michael Jackson owning the rights to all the Beatles songs. Doh!

131. Baby’s In Black from Beatles For Sale

Let’s begin with “oh how long will it take til she see the mistake she has made” – just a fantastic John/Paul harmony. This song is ranked as highly as it is almost solely for the power of that line. The rest of it is decent, though after many years I’m still undecided about the guitar solo. Unlike most George solos, which provide a subtle twist on the main theme, this one goes off into the woods and spins in circles by itself. While it’s a little jarring, the solo, combined with the plodding, waltz-but-not-quite-a-waltz beat give the song a pleasantly chaotic feel.

130. Flying from Magical Mystery Tour

It’s an instrumental, but it really just sounds like they never got around to finishing the song and adding words. The result is a half-improvised take around some very slight changes in chords. And the music only last about 90 seconds, with another 40 seconds of sound effects as it fades into the distance. All that said, I really enjoy the tune, as well as the slightly bouncy guitar that chugs along. I often find myself humming the tune for hours (or even days) after listening to it, and that should count for something, shouldn’t it?

129. The Night Before from Help!

When I was very very young, this was among my favorites. Then, for a very long time I more or less forgot about it and it was relegated to the bottom of the list. Listening to it closely again for this project, I was reminded of how solid a song it really is. Great vocals by Paul, great drumming by Ringo, lovely background vocals. A devastating little song about betrayel.

128. There’s A Place from Please Please Me

Opens with a great harmonica lick and takes off from there. The drum counterpart when they sing “and it’s my mind” is perfect. And, I think the harmony between John and the backing vocals is perfectly discordant. They track along with each other, but for the verses John is slightly off. Paul and George create the framework while John extemporizes. And then, when they join together for the chorus, it has an even greater effect.

127. You’re Gonna Lose That Girl from Help!

Great background vocals is what sets this song apart for me. Paul and George follow closely behind John, echoing his lyrics, kicking in on each line a second or two before John finishes to create a lovely layered effect.

126. The Inner Light from Past Masters, Vol 2

Here’s something that doesn’t sound the same as the rest of their songs. One of George’s Indian-influenced songs, all the backing instruments are Indian and that lilting whatever-it-is that forms the basis of the introduction and appears occasionally through the rest of the song is really something else. It sounds almost human at times. The lyrics are typical spirtual-George fare: “See all without looking, do all without doing.” This was the B-side for Lady Madonna. Could they have found two more different-sounding songs to put together?

125. Long, Long, Long from The White Album

Why, oh why is this song so quiet? Why is it placed right after “Helter Skelter”? Did they want it to end up as the most obscure Beatles song? I have to admit it was only very recently that I gave this one any real attention. This is due to two factors. First, the magic of MP3s makes it easy to play the song on its own instead of just with the album where the contrast with Helter Skelter makes it a huge let-down. Second, the ability to substantially increase the volume of the track makes it easy to actually HEAR it. It used to be one of my least favorite songs mostly because I didn’t realize it had a tune. Now that I’ve turned up the volume substantially, I realize it’s a beautiful song, especially the lightly played bass riff. With a different production and different album placement, this could really have been great.

124. Your Mother Should Know from Magical Mystery Tour

Another one of Paul’s excursion into the dance hall songs of yesteryear. Still, it also clearly benefits from the late 60s musical scene, with a great little bass line, the strong keyboards that drive the song, and the harmonium interludes. It also benefits from a strong ending, just rolling along for the first 1:45 and then suddenly kicking it up a notch as the drums play a much more prominent role in the final verse.

123. Maxwell’s Silver Hammer from Abbey Road

So the synthesizer is almost ridiculously outdated. So the song is cutesy and yet-another Paul tribute to his father’s music. So it’s about a serial-killer. So what? It’s a great song. The bassline is fantastic, Paul’s voice has just the right amount of sly self-awareness, and the chorus is great.

It’s an interesting counterpoint to John’s “Instant Karma!” which came out around the same time. Same theme: slightly different approach.

122. Thank You Girl from Past Masters, Vol 1

An early, short song. It’s one of their happier “gee I love love” songs, which I enjoy. I especially like that it’s not about how she’s pretty, but instead about how he likes being with her, and how she makes him feel good. I really like Ringo’s drumming here, too.

121. I Want to Tell You from Revolver

The fade-in opening is used here to great effect, giving the song the feel of something much larger than the simple two-and-a-half minutes that you hear. George said a few years later that he got it exactly wrong. From the Eastern perspective he would soon adopt, it should be “it isn’t me, it’s just my mind.” It’s funny that he stumbled into a line so radically opposite what he would so believe a few years later.

Beatles from worst to first 6 (120-101)Posted on May 10, 2006 by olneyce

We’re really getting into songs that I love now. They’ve all still got their flaws, but there is a great deal to recommend every one of the songs today. Another one of my “likely to infuriate a few people” picks is here today. I guess it all depends on how you feel about the line: “you were in a car crash and you lost your hair.”

In non-Beatles news, I went to Seattle yesterday and picked up a ton of new records that I’ve been wanting for awhile, so once I finish up with The Beatles, I’ve got a lot of new stuff to get cracking on. I also have to say that even in the age of blogs and downloads and instant access to music even before it’s released, there is something very satisfying about walking around a record store with a bunch of CDs in your arms.

Anyways…

120. I’m A Loser from Beatles For Sale

Their first serious foray into a more folk-ish sound. John is at his cuttingly bitter best. Unlike some of his other unhappy-love songs, this one is not an attack on the woman who hurt him, but is almost entirely directed inward.

119. Don’t Bother Me from With The Beatles

George’s first song, which I’ve always enjoyed quite a bit. He described it as an exercise in songwriting, to see if he could do it, and didn’t give it much more credit than that. I agree that it’s not particularly sophisticated, but it’s got a nice minor-key sound to it, and the bleakness of

the lyrics are a nice counterpoint to the mostly-optimistic, almost gleeful, Lennon/McCartney songs from their early albums.

118. It’s Only Love from Help!

John didn’t think much of this song in his later days, considering it a throwaway. While I think that criticism is too harsh, I do sort of see where he’s coming from. Though I really enjoy the song, it just doesn’t have enough substance to break into the top 100 for me.

117. I Should Have Known Better from A Hard Day’s Night

The double-tracked vocals from John where he harmonizes with himself on “Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii should have…” is pretty much the entire reason why I love this song. The rest of it is pleasant enough, with a nice bit of harmonica on the side, but it wouldn’t really stick out from any number of other early songs otherwise.

116. Wait from Rubber Soul

This is a song from the Help! sessions, brought in to bring Rubber Soul up to 14 songs to meet the deadline. Therefore, it’s commonly referred to as being a little out of place, as being on the wrong side of their breakthrough. Frankly, I don’t see it. It’s not the strongest track on the record, but it’s not the weakest, either. The subject-matter is pretty simple (yet another take on “I’ve been away, now I’m coming back”), but the percussion (with a tambourine and some nice drum rolls) and the harmonies fit right in with the more sophisticated sounds of the rest of the record.

115. No Reply from Beatles For Sale

A strangely melancholic album-opener. While most of their early albums kicked off with optimistic rockers, this one suggested that things were changing. Not only is the sound different (the Dylan influence is clear), the subject-matter is along the lines of classic John: “why have you ruined my life?” — usually saved for much later in the album, or for a b-side to a more rollicking single. The sound they put together for the quick bursts of “I nearly died!” is pretty amazing, the the bridge “If I were you, I’d realize…” is just fantastic.

114. You Won’t See Me from Rubber Soul

A great song about lost love from Paul. It’s more wistful and less accusatory than similar-themed ones from John (“No Reply,” “You Can’t Do That,” etc.). Here, Paul simply tries to convince her that he is lost without her, that she should give it more of a chance. It’s a group effort, with some lovely singing by Paul, some nice harmonies, and a couple great drumming sections (particularly the “time after time…” section).

113. When I’m Sixty-Four from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

This song, more than almost any other, really defines Sgt. Pepper for me. Not because it’s my favorite, and not because it exemplifies the hippy/counterculture element of the album. Rather, because it’s the exact opposite. That the biggest band in the world could release an album containing this song and have it be lauded as cutting-edge, as the defining sound of a new generation just reveals how much they were on the top of the world. “We’re going to release anything we want, in any style, and you’re going to love it.” In a way, the album became a focal point for the counterculture precisely because it was so unique in its combination of different styles. “If it feels good, do it” pretty easily translates into “if it sounds good, play it” after all. So here we have a little bit of old-fashioned camp on perhaps the most influential rock album of all-time. As it should be…

112. Don’t Pass Me By from The White Album

Ringo’s first song, and I think it’s a shame it took until 1968. Sure, it’s not the most complex song ever, and sure it’s a little silly, but it really does have a nice tune, and that fiddle gives the song such a perfect country-western feel. The song had been floating around for at least a couple years before the White Album and I tend to think it never would have been released if they hadn’t made a sprawling double-album. So while I complain sometimes about the inclusion of some mediocre songs, I think Paul was right when, on the Anthology, he responded to these criticisms with “it’s the bloody Beatles White Album. Shut up.” Everybody’s got a couple songs they could do without, but one person’s filler is another person’s favorite song.

111. The Ballad of John and Yoko from Past Masters, Vol 2

The neat thing about this song is that it was recorded in a single session by John and Paul alone (and some nice drumming by Macca, no less), in the spring of 1969. I think it shows that in spite of the other stuff going on (the impending breakup) things were not always as tense as all that. This is just the sound of two friends making a song off the cuff, and having a good time doing it. By the way, in a song skewering the press, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that John chooses the phrase “they’re gonna crucify me” given the blow-up over his “bigger than Jesus” comments a couple years before.

110. Back In The U.S.S.R. from The White Album

Paul’s spoof on the Beach Boys and Chuck Berry, and also one of the more rocking songs from the White Album. I do wish the bass was given a little more prominence. There’s this great beat buried down there. How they managed to release this song and not have the Red Scare folks come after them in a serious way, I don’t really understand. I mean, obviously it’s not meant to be taken at face value, but since when were these folks known for getting the joke?

109. Within You Without You from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

This song is a stunning bit of fusion. An Indian raga overlaid with a Western melody. I understand (and to some extent agree with) all of the complaints. From one side, it’s a curiously atonal song, a let-down in the middle of a rock album. From another side, it’s the musical equivalent of curry powder, the Anglicized variation on the Indian original. And there are

definitely times when I’m listening to Sgt. Pepper and find it a bit of drag in the middle. But most of the time, I try to appreciate it on its own terms, as a hybrid of cultures and musical styles that is almost stunningly complex in its amalgamation of these perspectives. And it’s really quite pretty, too.

108. I Saw Her Standing There from Please Please Me

The opener for their first album, and what a great opener it is. A great rock and roll song, not just for the time, but for all-time. It’s got the handclaps, a driving drum beat, a nice scream, and some great guitar-work by George. And for a song about seeing a girl across the dance-floor, it’s riddled with sexual tension. The well-hidden naughtiness in the line “She was just seventeen, you know what I mean” gives the song just the right amount of edge. So why isn’t it ranked even higher? Well, because all the other songs are EVEN BETTER.

107. Yer Blues from The White Album

Jeez, sometimes you have to wonder how tough it must have been to live inside John’s head. This song punches you in the gut a few times and then kicks you to the curb. It’s a little crazy to listen to this and realize that this is the same band that only a couple years ago was singing “Love Me Do.” Or, to put it another way, it’s crazy to listen to this song and have the very next song be “Mother Nature’s Son.” Talk about versatility.

106. I’ll Cry Instead from A Hard Day’s Night

It ends almost as soon as it starts. It’s under two minutes, is only two verses, and has such a quick ending (no outro at all) that if you blink you might miss it. It’s got a great country/bluesy feel, and John is at his misanthropic best. The moment with about 10 seconds left when the guitars disappear briefly and it’s just John singing “show you what you’re loving man can do” is great stuff.

105. Good Day Sunshine from Revolver

The intro to this one is what does it for me. That rising piano, the quick drum beats, and then the “good day sunshine…” I just can’t help but smile. And it probably shouldn’t get extra points for this, but whatever: the transition between the end of this one and the bursting out of the guitar from “And Your Bird Can Sing” is among my all-time favorite transitions.

104. I Call Your Name from Past Masters, Vol 1

The weird thing about this one is that I didn’t hear the Beatles version until long after I had grown accustomed to it as a Mamas and the Papas song. It almost sounds like a totally different song when done by Mama Cass. I like them both, but I have to say I’ll go with John. And if you toss in a little bit of George on the guitar…you’ve got a really great song.

103. You Can’t Do That from A Hard Day’s Night

Another John song that takes fear of losing love in a slightly dangerous direction. Also, another John song that deals with his worries about how others will think: “but if they’d seen you talking that way they’d laugh in my face.” It’s a song about being angry, not about being sad. John never mentions how he actually, y’know, FEELS about his ladyfriend. It’s all jealousy, worrying about what others will think, etc. Musically, it’s got a great beat, a heavier sound, and George really rocking out the guitar. It’s a little too choppy for my tastes, but still a great song.

102. Dig A Pony from Let It Be

Full of nonsense John lyrics, and a great guitar interplay. This song has always seemed to me like it could have been much better. That feeling of mild disappointment has definitely influenced my opinion of it, and it was initially ranked quite a bit lower. It’s a little ragged and a little repetitive, and the nonsense lyrics from John might have been better. For instance “you can radiate anything you are” is great, but I can’t say I get “you can syndicate any boat you row.” But forcing myself to judge it on its own merits, rather than on my imagined scale of what could have been, I’m forced to accept that it’s a great song, flaws and all. Especially the “All I want is you…” bit.

101. All I’ve Got To Do from With The Beatles

One of the better tracks from their first two albums, which unfortunately means it’s still forced to languish down here, but it really is a great song. John really lets go in the bridge, and then pulls it back in for the verse. And the song fades with his “mmm mmm mmm’s” and you just want to play it again…

Beatles from worst to first 7 (100-76)Posted on May 11, 2006 by olneyce

I’ll do 25 today, and 25 today, which will get us to the top 50 for the weekend. Today, the emphasis is strongly on the middle and late periods, with five tracks from Sgt. Pepper alone, and only six from everything pre-Rubber Soul.

100. From Me to You from Past Masters, Vol 1

One of their first big songs, in their pre-Beatlemania days. It’s a pretty simple love song (well, as simple as you can expect from the Beatles). It’s written to “you” to emphasize the closeness to the fans. It’s got the great harmonies. It’s the sort of song that can really make you understand why pretty much every teenage girl in the world fell in love with these guys.

99. Old Brown Shoe from Past Masters, Vol 2

I never really liked this song that much while I was growing up but I’m starting to come around on it. It’s got a great beat, and the lilting piano gives it a fun, almost loping sound. When’s Paul’s bass enters into the fray, with it’s quick-paced variation on the same theme, it makes for a great,

almost oval-shaped sound, if that makes any sense. This song, more than any other, probably fared the best in my final results compared to my initial thoughts. Since I still have trouble thinking of it as anything other than a throwaway tucked on the end of the second Past Masters, I was amazed to discover that it comfortably beat out some songs I’ve loved for years.

98. Michelle from Rubber Soul

It’s so schmaltzy and beautiful and…how did this end up on a rock record? Perhaps my favorite thing about this song is that perfectly toes the line between parody and genuine affection. Is it schmaltz or ironic schmaltz? Is it French or faux-French? Is it serious? Whatever it is, I love it.

97. If I Needed Someone from Rubber Soul

Great riff. One of George’s better songs, though also one of his least unique, in that it doesn’t sound all that much different than a Lennon/McCartney song from the time.

96. Any Time At All from A Hard Day’s Night

Oh, George, how you can make the 12-string guitar sing! That, and the bridge “there is nothing I won’t do…” is what makes this song for me. Most bands would kill to write a song this good, and we’re still barely breaking the top 100. Think about that.

95. It Won’t Be Long from With The Beatles

Now THIS is how you kick off an album. And have I mentioned John’s voice recently? Lord almighty, he could sing. I also love the call-and-response “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah”s and that descending guitar riff. As for the lyrics, there’s always been some ambiguity for me. Did she dump him or did she just leave physically (like, on a trip or something)? Either way, I like it.

94. Fixing A Hole from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

One of the interesting things about Sgt. Pepper (as I alluded to when discussing “When I’m Sixty-four) is that most of the songs aren’t anything particularly cutting-edge on their own. However, because each song is so inextricably tied to the album (and its mythology) that they grow into something more when heard in context. Read simply, this is just a song about discovering that it’s perfectly easy to live a happy, satisfied, and complete life without going out into the world or doing anything “important.” Read another way, it’s a song about heroin (the junkie “fixing a hole”) or it’s about the counterculture and “dropping out” from society. Absent its place on Sgt. Pepper, this song would probably be a lot lower. But here, perfectly placed between “Getting Better” and “She’s Leaving Home,” all of the things I might never have heard are made clear. Maybe that means I’m buying into the Sgt. Pepper hype. If so, oh well, I’m just going to enjoy it.

93. Please Mister Postman from With The Beatles

John really can sing, can’t he? This song is ranked this highly purely based on his vocal performance. Not that there’s anything wrong with the music or the backing vocals or anything; there’s just nothing really special there. John’s vocals, however, are almost to-die-for. Wow.

92. Get Back from Past Masters, Vol 2

The first question is which version. I very slightly prefer the one on the Past Masters disc, mostly because the outro is a lot of fun (though I do love “I hope we’ve passed the audition” from the end of the version on Let It Be). To be honest, I can’t really detect much a significant difference other than that. As for the song itself, it’s always been one of those that I felt like should be really high up there but just never seemed to listen to that much. Great song, just not one of my all-time favorites. I also love the Simpsons episode with the Be Sharps parody of the Beatles, where after they play a rooftop show, George drives by and says “it’s been done.” And Homer ends with “I hope we’ve passed the audition,” everyone laughs and Barney says “I don’t get it.”

91. Day Tripper from Past Masters, Vol 2

I’ve mentioned that the boys, for all of their great songs, didn’t really have many good guitar riffs. Well, this is the mother of all the exceptions. One of the very best riffs out there. It kicks off the song, and ties it together the whole way through. I know I’ve got it ranked relatively low, but if you told me this was your favorite Beatles song, I wouldn’t really have any reason to argue. It’s not EXACTLY my cup of tea, but it really is a great song.

90. Magical Mystery Tour from Magical Mystery Tour

I like this one a little more than perhaps I ought to. It’s a bit of a throwaway, and it’s not really all that interesting musically. Still, it just puts me in the right mood. The percussion (particularly as the song slows down for those 15 seconds in the middle), and Paul’s voice on “the magical mystery tour is coming to take you away…” just gets me pumped up to listen to the rest of the album. As a standalone song, it would probably fare worse, but since its pretty inextricably tied to the rest of the album in my mind it does just fine.

89. I’ll Be Back from A Hard Day’s Night

The list that inspired me to do this project has this one ranked as the #2 Beatles song, which frankly astonished me. I had never even thought this would be in someone’s top 20, much less #2. Still, I gave it a few more listens, trying to see what I had missed, and discovered that it really is a pretty good piece of music. I had never quite given it the attention it deserves, tucked all the way at the back of the album there. It’s an almost perfectly crafted piece of two-minute pop. Heartache, love, and the way it makes us all go crazy — typical John sentiments — have almost never been expressed so clearly. It’s sad with just enough of a hint of happiness to explain why we keep coming back for more.

88. Helter Skelter from The White Album

The mythology of this song is expansive. There’s the origin story (Paul read a review of The Who’s “I Can See For Miles” describing it as the loudest, wildest music ever made and wanted to prove them wrong), the appropriation of the song by Charles Manson (including writing it in blood at one of the murder scenes…yikes), the credit given by many to this song as part of the birth of heavy metal, the original 27-minute version, the multiple fadeouts. All of that makes it interesting as a cultural artifact, but it would still be a great song on its own merits. Loud, devastating, and raucous, ended perfectly with yet another aborted fadeout and Ringo screaming “I got blisters on my fingers!”

87. Girl from Rubber Soul

Achingly beautiful, filled with sadness and pain. This is a much more mature song (both lyrically and musically) than their standard fare from even a year earlier. It also is a (somewhat) rare example of John single-tracking his voice. Listening to this one, it’s not difficult to understand why he often chose to double-track. His voice here is so raggedly tender that it would never work on some of the more upbeat numbers. But here, it’s perfect

86. Think For Yourself from Rubber Soul

Great fuzzed-out bass layered on top of the regular bass track here. It’s really the focal point of the song. This is one of George’s best Beatles songs. It does sound a bit like George trying to write a Lennon/McCartney song, but there are enough Harrison elements here to make it clearly his own.

85. Yellow Submarine from Revolver

This is the only song I ever learned how to play on the piano. And was among my very favorite songs when I was 10 or 11. And I really do love the Yellow Submarine movie. And I love Ringo. The first really great concert I ever went to was to see Ringo and his All-Starr band when I was 13 or 14. And he played this song and it pretty much made my day. It’s obviously nothing complicated, but it just serves as yet another example of the ease with which the boys could transgress musical boundaries. It’s like the had a checklist of genres they needed to cover: “Rock, check. Indian, check. Psychedelic, check. Classical, check. Ballad, check. Children’s song, eh? Hey Ringo, come on over, we’ve got a song for you.” And that is all JUST on Revolver. As Alan Pollack says: “Could anyone other than the Beatles get away with this? Try to imagine “Yellow Submarine” as the first or second song of a no-name group.” Indeed.

84. Cry Baby Cry from The White Album

This is a bit of a weird one. The King and the Queen, the Duke and the Duchess, what these have to do with the chorus beats me. And what ANY of it has to do with anything else in the world, I also have no idea. And the music is a little crazy, too. It’s incredibly thick, with that piano drenching the whole track, and assorted other instruments keeping the background sounds at a constant. Still, there’s a very sweet melody underlying it all, and John’s vocals have the perfect ghostly feel.

83. Lovely Rita from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

What is this here? A rock song on Sgt. Pepper? Who would’ve thought? This one is, like many of Paul’s songs, a vignette, a slice of not-quite-everyday life. In this case, about not quite making it with an attractive meter maid. While it doesn’t rock out like “Helter Skelter” or anything, it adds some much-needed oomph to the middle of side two.

As a sidenote, one of the great things about that album is the way they managed the peaks and valleys of the “rock” quotient. After a long section at the close of side one and beginning of side two, they kick off a three-part section where they amp up the voltage in preparation for the climax in the reprise and the denouement of “A Day in the Life.” I have no idea if I only think the song order is perfect because it’s Sgt. Pepper, but I really can’t imagine it working nearly as well any other way.

To digress (again), this one and “When I’m Sixty-Four” were the two songs that would have been cut had “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields” not been kept separate as singles. It’s certainly true that these are the two least essential songs on the album, but I think it would have lost some of its playfulness without them.

82. I’ve Got A Feeling from Let It Be

There’s a lot to be said for the early-era version of the Lennon/McCartney collaboration, when they wrote much more in tandem. But, to be honest, I think they were at their very best when they produced almost-complete songs on their own, and then let the other tweak around a little bit. Songs like this one go one step beyond, turning two completely separate song fragments into one whole song. There’s really no reason to think the songs should go together except that it fits so perfectly. When John starts in with “everybody had a good year,” it’s like a drink of cool water in the middle of Paul rocking out. And when they’re each singing their own song at the same time–it’s as good as any harmony. In my mind, this is what Let It Be was supposed to be about–their more mature selves making the rock album that they never could have imagined at the age of 22.

81. Mother Nature’s Son from The White Album

For what is at heart a very simple song, this one is intricately layered. The acoustic guitars, the light touch of brass, mild percussion, a bit of drumming buried deeply. This is clearly one of the tracks written in Rishikesh, with its themes of nature and unity with the world. It also shows just how powerful a little bit of humming can be, when it’s done right.

80. Getting Better from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

Two things to love about this one. First, and most obviously, the absolutely perfect distillation of what made the John/Paul partnership so perfect. Paul sings unambiguously “I’ve got to admit it’s getting better” and John returns: “it can’t get no worse.” Put together, and it’s profound in its simplicity. Second thing to love: the bass, which really takes off on the second verse. It frames the song so well that it sounds remarkably full and “rocking” despite its rather leisurely pace.

79. I Feel Fine from Past Masters, Vol 1

Here is another counter-example to my claim that The Beatles didn’t have all that many great guitar riffs.. This song has one of their best. And that feedback to kick off the song is pretty amazing. Ringo really pounds the drums. And the “I’m so glad…” section just sends shivers down the spine.

78. Baby You’re A Rich Man from Magical Mystery Tour

I said earlier that “Blue Jay Way” might be their only song that is unable to transcend the era in which it was recorded. However, there is an argument to be made that this song might be another. But this might require a question of what it means for a song to transcend its origins. Sure, it’s a hippie song for a hippie time, both musically and lyrically. Still, where “Blue Jay Way” was boring, this song is playful. It is a product of the 60s in a way that makes that era come alive even now. All those crazy instruments, lyrics about finding true meaning in life…

I first listened to Magical Mystery Tour on an incredibly scratched record. On all the other songs, this was an annoyance but nothing more. On this one, though, there was a divot that meant I got to listen to the 1.8 seconds of John saying “beautiful people” at around the 52-second mark on repeat until I got up and pushed the needle along.

77. With A Little Help From My Friends from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band76. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

You pretty much have to put these two songs together. For all the talk of Sgt. Pepper as a “concept” album, the concept only extended to these two songs (and the reprise). “Sgt. Pepper” is a fantastically tight rocker, with Paul’s screaming vocals and churning bass line stealing the show. Also, the use of “crowd noise” is done expertly to heighten the anticipation of the arrival of Billy Shears at centerstage, and to make the segueway into “With a Little Help From My Friends” seamless. That song is the #2 Ringo song on this list (sandwiched in between two songs about being underwater). I actually remember hearing the Joe Cocker version of this song first, somehow (that’s what growing up in the 80s watching “The Wonder Years” will do for you), and still appreciate that one greatly, but you just can’t beat Ringo. He sounds so plaintive, so honest. Once again, the bass dominates this song (a sign of things to come on the rest of the record). As a final note, once again the arrangement of the tracks on Sgt. Pepper is perfect. The campiness of these two songs is a great way to ease the transition into to the crazy genre-bending to come. And it just gets you feeling good.

Beatles from worst to first 8 (75-51)Posted on May 12, 2006 by olneyce

We’re really getting into the greats now. There are bands I like quite a lot who have never made a song as good as any on this list. Some of their most musically interesting songs show up today. Also, going into today, there were 75 songs left, 13 of which were from the White Album. That

ratio has been reduced a bit since there are six White Album tracks up today. It’s a great album but it’s not quite that great…

75. And I Love Her from A Hard Day’s Night

I don’t know much about music theory, but my understanding is that a lot of the effect of this song is created by the way it blurs the line between major and minor keys. So bittersweet, so pure. Paul’s voice hovers above this song like a halo, particularly on “bright are the stars that shine…”

74. Hello, Goodbye from Magical Mystery Tour

One of my ABSOLUTE favorites when I was growing up, and it’s been slowly but surely falling ever since. I still love it a lot, but the silliness and simplicity has started to feel a little bit strained. You can call it a loss of innocence or a refinement in taste. Either way, the point is that I just can’t quite make myself suspend my disbelief and accept that Paul has discovered something profound in “You say yes, I say no, you say stop, and I say go, go, go.” Great instrumentation, though. The strings, the guitars, and that outro is pretty fantastic.

73. Can’t Buy Me Love from A Hard Day’s Night

One of Ringo’s finest drumming jobs. The crashing of the cymbals, the underlying beat. It really drives the song. The section of the A Hard Day’s Night movie where this played is almost certainly one of the best music videos ever. Beyond that, the scream before the guitar solo is great, and the solo itself is one of George’s finest. In fact, I can’t think of another one that’s better. The songs just screams energy and excitement. Beatlemania doesn’t seem hard to understand when listening to songs like this.

72. Everybody’s Got Something To Hide Except Me And My Monkey from The White Album

Perhaps the very best all-out rock and roll song they’ve got. This one is a bruiser. There’s that ringing bell just making your whole body move, a crazy drum beat that always sounds like it’s just about to tear away from the rest of the song but never quite does. And, some typically John lyrics, opaque in their simplicity. Great stuff.

71. You Really Got A Hold On Me from With The Beatles

A really great cover of an already fantastic song. As I’ve said, I wish the boys had done more covers of these type of songs and less of the rock/blues stuff. Their talent with harmonizing and arrangements (especially with the presence of George Martin) really adds something special. When they’re all singing together on “I love you and all I want you to do…” it is simply glorious.

70. Lady Madonna from Past Masters, Vol 2

The Beatles generally avoided the saxophone, which I think was a wise choice. It’s such an easy instrument to abuse. But this track is an example of using a sax as it was meant to be used, to bolster a solid rock line, and to add even more energy. You’ll notice that the musical accompaniment is different for almost every section of the song. Different combinations of drums, guitar, bass, sax, piano, and harmonies give it an incredibly textured feel. That, combined with the quick pace, means that I never cease to be amazed that it’s only a little over two minutes long.

69. P.S. I Love You from Please Please Me

Not one of their more sophisticated songs, it basically plays on the same beat with the same chords the whole way. But, for some reason, it just appeals to me very strongly in a way that a lot of their other early songs don’t. I do like the idea that the song itself is the text of the letter and the title is the p.s.

68. Tomorrow Never Knows from Revolver

I don’t even know where to start. While this is by no means my favorite Beatles song, it’s very high on the list of songs I could listen to on repeat for a very long time. No matter how many times I hear it, I find there is always more to uncover. That they put this together with the technology available in 1966 is, frankly, just astonishing. It’s like finding out that the Wright Brothers built their flying machine out of a couple sticks and some saltwater taffy. Some scattered thoughts/sounds: the seagulls, a guitar solo that sounds like it’s being played from some dimension that’s just a bit out of kilter from our own, “listen to the color of your dreams,” and let’s not forget that underneath all of those effects, it’s a pretty darn good rock song.

67. Martha My Dear from The White Album

Yeah, so it’s about Paul’s sheepdog. That’s just fine by me. It’s a very pretty, and fun song, with some long instrumental sections. The background music is quite interesting on this one, with the piano running through the whole way, the brass section, and drums and a bass that are faded in and out in different sections. For a very short and seemingly simple songs, there is a lot of aural variety.

66. Glass Onion from The White Album

John wrote this song mostly to poke fun at everyone who insisted on reading deeply into his nonsense lyrics. Accordingly, he references a number of older songs and introduces a number of new classically bizarre Lennon phrases to dazzle and confuse (“glass onion,” “cast iron shores,” “dove-tail joint”). Musically, it’s one of their more rocking numbers, with some great drumwork and a thumping bass beat.

65. Twist And Shout from Please Please Me

What a performance by John! This is what Paul was hoping to get with his attempt to run his voice ragged before recording “Oh! Darling” but that is nothing compared to what John got here

the old-fashioned way. The Isley Brothers original is a classic and a fantastic song, but it pales in comparison to John’s performance. There are a lot of their songs I like more, but I’m not sure there’s another one I would have rather seen them do live.

64. Hey Bulldog from Yellow Submarine

Here we find one of the least-known Beatles songs (if there indeed could be such a thing), since it’s one of the four tracks that only appeared on Yellow Submarine. It’s a shame because it’s not only one of their better songs, it’s also one of their most unique. It would be worth the price of admission if only for the first 13 seconds, You first get the central riff of the song pounded out on the piano. The second time through, the drums and guitar kick in, and the third time the bass and the tambourine (I think) join up. And it all goes boom. The rest of the song is pretty great, too. That bruising riff holds throughout, and there’s the extended outro, with the trademarked fade-out-back-in-fade-out-again. Alan Pollack has a pretty interesting discussion of it here that’s worth reading.

63. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

Surely everyone knows the “it is/isn’t about LSD” story, but I’ll summarize just in case… You’ll notice that Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds conveniently translates into the acronym LSD. John has insisted from the very beginning that this was never his intention and that the inspiration for the song came from a picture drawn by John’s son Julian. For all the details, check out the Wikipedia entry.

Given the existence of the picture, the girl named Lucy, and John’s insistence, I’m inclined to believe the story as far as it goes. Still, it doesn’t really mean that much as the song is obviously about LSD regardless of the reasons for choosing the title. As if the lyrics weren’t enough (“tangerine trees and marmalade skies,” “plasticene porters,” “a girl with kaleidoscope eyes,” and so on), the musical soundscape with the harpsichord or whatever it is, the crazy fluttering guitars, and vocals from John that seem to float up out of the ether would be proof enough. Some people swear by Elton John’s cover. Those people clearly have gone off their medication.

62. Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) from Rubber Soul

John trying to write an oblique song about an affair and having it be so oblique that no one ever guessed. They were too busy being confused by the suggestion that he was an arsonist. This is

their first use of the sitar, and I think it’s a perfect fit. It’s obviously much less authentic than their later attempts, but that’s kind of the charm. It gives the song just the right amount of exotic charm. I’ve always really loved the line “I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.”

61. Anna (Go To Him) from Please Please Me

The best Beatles song that none of my friends have ever heard. Of all their covers, I think this one might sound the most like a Lennon/McCartney number. The original is nothing spectacular, but it is transformed in the hands of John, who gives one of his very best vocal performances. Lyrics that suggest sadness at the departure of a woman are turned into a firestorm. Any emo band out there would be well-served to listen to this record 10 or 15 times to see how it’s meant to be done. I’d really like to squeeze this one into the top 50, but it just isn’t going to happen.

60. A Hard Day’s Night from A Hard Day’s Night

And here was the magic of the 12-string guitar made clear. That opening chord! The fadeout! The solo! And throughout the song, the guitar and a virtual wall-of-sound brought to life by Ringo and his drums.

59. If I Fell from A Hard Day’s Night

Bonus points here for the very best John/Paul harmony. After the beautiful introduction sets the stage, it’s all harmony from there out. The lyrics reflect the desperate tension of love, between wanting your feelings to have true requited love, but being so afraid of rejection that you are unwilling to give yourself up. And as if all that wasn’t complicated enough, the pain of a failed love and the feeling of devastation at rejection is framing all of that. For a very pretty song, there’s a lot of psychological trauma going on here.

58. Sexy Sadie from The White Album

John wrote this song as a tirade against the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, after discovering that he had tried to sleep with one of the women there. He was convinced to change “Maharishi” to “Sexy Sadie” and to remove the curse words, but it’s still a delightfully vindictive song. Great guitar, too

57. Revolution from Past Masters, Vol 2

I know some folks go the other way on this, but I strongly prefer the single-version to the one on the White Album. The sloppy, loud full-frontal assault of the guitars, Paul’s scream to kick it off, and John’s in-your-face vocals completely define this song for me, to the point where listening to “Revolution 1” kind of weirds me out. I used to wake up to this song every morning, because I knew it would get me revved up for the day.

The lyrics are typically John in their ambiguity. I think it’s pretty powerful to come out with your “political” song and have the basic point be: “we all want to change the world, but I really have no idea how to do it.” He’s not against revolution, but he wants to be convinced that it’s

revolution for a purpose, not just for its own sake. I think the lessons of Robespierre and Stalin (to pick a couple) suggest that he may have been onto something. Yes, be political, but don’t think you’ve ever got a stranglehold on the truth, or that those who disagree on tactics are automatically your enemies. As John says: “you say you’ve got a real solution, well you know, we’d all love to see the plan.” I sure would…

56. I’m So Tired from The White Album

This song, more than almost any other I can think of, perfectly evokes the feeling it describes. Raw, angry, bitter, listless, terrified, depressed, on the verge of a breakdown. When John finally lets loose and screams “I’m going insane” it’s an instant of release. The final 20 seconds consist of three repetitions of “I’d give you everything I got for a little piece of mind” over a cacophony of drums and bass in a wonderful heightening and release of the tension.

55. Something from Abbey Road

I know a fair number of people who rank this one #1 and I can’t really say they’re wrong, yet here it is in the 50s. What gives? Well, I’m not sure. I want to put it higher but I just can’t justify moving anything below it. This is an instance where if I were doing the “best” of The Beatles, this would be about 40 spots higher, but all I’m doing is my personal favorites and it just doesn’t quite make it. We all know this is a great song, so I’m not going to get into the details. But one funny story: Frank Sinatra declared “Something” to be one of the greatest love songs of all-time, and regularly sang it in concerts, though (in typical fashion for the perpetually overlooked George) he often referred to it as his favorite Lennon/McCartney song.

54. Paperback Writer from Past Masters, Vol 2

It’s amazing to think that this was only their second song that wasn’t about love. They clearly could write love songs in a lot of different ways without them getting old, but it’s still pretty amazing that it took until Revolver for them to start writing about novelists and taxmen and yellow submarines. I love that this song is written in the form of a letter, in particular that it begins “Dear Sir [or Madam].” I’ve always wondered whether the narrator’s book was actually any good. I have to assume the answer is no, based on the description we get of it. But I still hold out hope that maybe it really is good and he’ll make it big. Musically, this is one of their strongest tracks, with that fantastic bassline and a great lead riff.

53. While My Guitar Gently Weeps from The White Album

In terms of musicianship, everyone is at their best here, from a great piano introduction and fantastic bass-work from Paul to drumming by Ringo that is taut with tension to some nice lead guitar by a fellow named Eric Clapton. I can’t fault the decision to go with this version since it is devastatingly well done and really drives home the feeling of abandonment of ego, and the spiritual emptiness of most people’s lives. Still, it’s almost too much. The sparse, acoustic version on the Anthology suggests that they might have produced a version a bit less depressing. Maybe I’m a fool for wanting a fundamentally dreary song to still be pretty, but that’s just how I feel, and I don’t know that there’s much point in trying to change at this point in my life. As it is,

I still love what we ended up with, and can appreciate the artistry that went into it, while still wishing for a little more.

52. Two Of Us from Let It Be

Supposedly a love song from Paul about Linda, and that may very well have been his intention. But let’s face facts. This is about John and Paul, even if only accidentally. I mean, “You and I have memories longer than the road stretches out ahead.” The two of them romping around the town, and eventually finding their way back home, playing games, and living life simply for the joy of it…this is the song where John and Paul say goodbye. The warm harmonies between John and Paul and the acoustic instrumentation only heighten the feeling. I know the atmosphere when they recorded this song can’t have been all fun and games, jokes and smiles. Still, you have to feel that, for at least a few minutes when they recorded this, they remembered just how they cared about each other. Maybe it’s a bit maudlin of me, but so be it.

51. Rock And Roll Music from Beatles For Sale

This is the last cover on the list. Everything in the top 50 is all John, Paul, George, and Ringo. I like Chuck Berry a lot, but I have say that the original of this song just doesn’t, y’know, SOUND like “rock and roll music.” I know my standards now are a lot different than they were 50 years ago when it came out, but only a few years later The Beatles came out with this version which rocks pretty damn hard. Oh, and John has a great voice in case I haven’t mentioned that recently.

Beatles from worst to first: InterludePosted on May 12, 2006 by olneyce

156 down, 50 to go. I’m rather obsessive about ranking my music on iTunes, mostly because it’s the only way I can keep track of all he new stuff I listen to. But also just because I like to rank and order things (obviously). It’s a happy coincidence that I have exactly 50 Beatles songs ranked at 5 stars. As a point of reference, I have around 400 total 5-star songs. Which means The Beatles alone comprise 1/8 of all my favorite music. That seems about right.

If you’ll pardon me a few moments to gush…

They had 20 number-one singles. They had 5 songs in the top 10 at one time. They released over a dozen albums, all of which have great music on them and most of which could fit comfortably on a top X albums of the rock and roll era list. And remember that this all took place over only 7 or 8 years.

Say what you will about their music (and I understand that not EVERYONE loves them as much as I do), you cannot deny the cultural significance of Beatlemania, of the first global satellite broadcast being 4 guys telling us that love is all we need, of that first Ed Sullivan show…

Langdon Winner said, and perhaps it is hyperbole, but perhaps it is not: “The closest Western Civilization has come to unity since the Congress of Vienna in 1815 was the week the Sgt. Pepper album was released.” And, while I get annoyed with Pitchfork at times (as we all do), one line from there that I truly enjoy is in this review: “Want a simple method for destroying any credibility you might hope to earn? Slam Sgt. Peppers and talk up Deathray. It’s that easy. Find something else with which to compare contemporary artists. The Music Machine, the Seeds, Badfinger, the Zombies, and even the Kinks are begging to be referenced. Let’s not compare a kid who wins a paper airplane contest to the Wright Brothers.”

The Beatles were the last (maybe the only) band that held the center of contemporary music together. They were staggeringly popular in a way that I’m not sure can ever be duplicated. Because in the 21st century, things fall apart, the center cannot hold. There are no bands with anything close to the broad-based appeal of the Beatles.

This is not to say that a band has to be popular to be great. But part of what makes the Beatles so amazing is that they were able to excel not at a limited number of things, but at virtually anything they tried. They could try their hand at all kinds of different things, but anyone can do that. Only the Beatles could do it and do it well. Incredibly well.

I guess the thing that seems most significant to me is that, in general terms, if you’re into any kind of music that could be even loosely defined as “rock” music, then you’ve probably got a list of at least 15 or 20 Beatles songs that you love. And even if you’re not into “rock” music at all (my Grandmother, for example, who would pay any amount of money not to have to listen to the Stones or the Who), you probably still have that list.

Should we get stuck on The Beatles? No, of course not. As great as they were, it was a long time ago, and there has been some truly fantastic music since then. I understand this completely, and, in fact, I started writing this blog so I could talk a bit about the new big things. But neither should we let our obsession with the new prevent us from recognizing and experiencing the old.

The Beatles are not simply an anachronism. They are not just the music our parents listened to. Their songs are as alive today as they ever were, and will continue to be alive hundreds of years from now. And that’s really all it’s about. When there’s great music, it deserves to be listened to and enjoyed. The Beatles aren’t the only ones capable of it. Lots of people make great music and people should listen to what they like. There are lots of styles, lots of genres, lots of ways to make great music.

But it’s telling that, for basically any band that you think is up there, finding their way of reaching for the stars, the Beatles are right there next to them. They’re the jack of all trades, master of all. They do a little bit of everything and do it all well. Rock, schmaltz, children’s songs, “world” music, pure pop, folk, folk-rock, ballads, songs about love, songs about taxes, sleeping, death, karma, drugs, etc. and so on.

And, to top it all off, they sang songs like “All You Need is Love” and they meant it. And millions listened, and they believed it. And that’s pretty awesome.

Tomorrow I’ll get started on the top 50, but for those who are wondering, here’s the breakdown by albums:

Revolver: 7The White Album: 7Magical Mystery Tour: 5Help!: 5Abbey Road: 4 (or 10, depending on how you count the medley)Sgt. Pepper: 4Past Masters, Volume Two: 4Let It Be: 3Rubber Soul: 3Beatles For Sale: 2Past Masters, Volume One: 2A Hard Day’s Night: 1Please Please Me: 1With The Beatles: 1Yellow Submarine: 1

And you’ll just have to wait and see how it all plays out.

Beatles from worst to first 9 (50-31)Posted on May 13, 2006 by olneyce

Two songs from George bookend the list today, which means he’s only got one left for the top 30. And we finally reach Ringo’s second, and last, song. We also close the account on A Hard Day’s Night, With The Beatles, Beatles For Sale, and Yellow Submarine. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to choose among these songs now?

If other folks out there have top 10s they’d like to share, I’d be interested. Especially if they differ substantially from mine. What don’t I understand about your #2 song, which I was silly enough to put at #85?

Tomorrow will be up through #11, and then I’ll do the top 10 on Monday.

50. It’s All Too Much from Yellow Submarine

I’m guessing this one wouldn’t be in the top 50 for too many folks, but something about it really appeals to me. The shimmering guitar, the same fascinating hybrid of Western melody and Eastern drone that makes “Within You, Without You” interesting. This one does not have a “Wall of sound” as much as it has an “Ocean of sound.” Lyrically, I think this song serves as an essential counterpoint to George’s other songs on the subject of spirituality and Eastern religion. The line “show me that I’m everywhere, and get me home for tea” shows that George didn’t always have to be so deadly serious.

By the way, the recently remastered version that came out on the re-done Yellow Submarine shows that sometimes less is more. The new version has the benefit of modern technology which can separate every instrument or tone on its own track. While this makes for a much crisper sound, it pretty much ruins what makes this song great. I don’t want to extract the sounds, I want the whole thing to hit me together so I can lose myself in the chaos.

49. Dear Prudence from The White Album

I think it’s fitting that this one immediately follows “It’s All Too Much,” since it’s the closest John came musically to George’s droning sound. It really just repeats that single guitar line for the entire song, with small variations. While I know one person who HATES this song with a fiery passion for precisely that reason, I think it makes the song interesting. The whole song builds and builds, adding a piece here, subtracting one there, remaining stuck on the same theme, but inexorably growing, until it all comes together at 2:37. Then, when John sings “won’t you let me see you smile” it’s about as big a climax as they ever created. But, the thing is, they’re not even done yet and there’s still another 40 seconds before they’re going to let you go.

48. She’s Leaving Home from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

Yes it’s a little overdone, but it’s still stunningly beautiful. Written by Paul after reading a news report about a runaway, this is yet another song from Sgt. Pepper which perfectly captures an element of the countercultural explosion, but from a unique perspective. It’s a song about dropping out, abandoning your square parents who just don’t get it and can’t understand that there’s more to life than money and comfort. But here’s the thing, it’s written from the perspective of the parents, for whom we cannot help but feel sorry. They may not get it, but it’s not their fault–they just wanted what was best for their daughter. That they are clueless as to what she wants and needs is a strike against them, but we understand that they are not bad people, nor do we find much reason to sympathize with the daughter. The parents want to understand, they simply cannot. As such, it is not a polemic, but rather is a recognition of broad forces in society that make things tough for everyone.

47. She Loves You from Past Masters, Vol 1

What is there to say about this song that everyone doesn’t already know? It is glorious–everything that made The Beatles so amazing, so mind-blowing to the world in 1963 and 1964–the harmonies, the furious drumming that lifts the whole song into the stratosphere, the clever lyrics, it’s all here. And don’t even get me started on the “yeah, yeah, yeahs.” As I said a few months ago about Johnny Boy, there is really no need for a lyric in rock and roll beyond the simple repetition of “yeah, yeah, yeah.” If you can’t say everything you want to say with that, maybe it wasn’t worth saying in the first place. There is no pretense here, nothing beyond “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah!” And that’s just all there is.

46. I’ll Follow The Sun from Beatles For Sale

A simple, but beautiful song. The primary instruments are those gently plucked acoustic guitars, and the light tapping is the only percussion. It’s less than two minutes and so gentle that it almost

feels like it would blow away in the wind. Which is sort of the point, given the song’s emphasis on transience and the departure of love. It’s really quite a depressing song when you get right down to it, but so beautifully done that it doesn’t seem to matter.

45. Things We Said Today from A Hard Day’s Night

A great song in a minor key, sounding dark and ominous, without succumbing completely. The tone of the music adds a great deal of flavor to what might otherwise be seen as relatively inconsequential lyrics. “I love you, even when you’re far away. We’ll surely be together forever” is given a new context. You notice that the song is mostly about the hard times, that the time of happiness is far off in the distant future. It is there, waiting for us surely, but we are forced to recognize that it will not be easy, nor necessarily pleasant to get there. Love will sustain, but can we really be sure? It’s all Paul here, with some nice shifts between single and double-tracking the voice to change the mood. One more thing: the moment at around two minutes where the bridge bleeds into the verse–“Love is here to stay and that’s enough…to make you mine, girl”–is pure genius. Sidenote: this is the one song from A Hard Day’s Night to crack the top 50, for what it’s worth.

44. Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da from The White Album

Yes, yes, I know that lots of people hate this song and let the complaints roll in if they must. I don’t care. It’s an incredibly fun song, one that I still, to this day, cannot listen to without discovering about 30 seconds in that I am bouncing merrily along to the beat. That bass simply will not let me go, and the horns, the handclaps, the piano, and everything else only add the effect. Sure, it’s not the most substantial song ever, but who wants to be serious all the time? Life goes on, after all, and sometimes you just have to let it go, give into the beat, and enjoy it.

43. The Fool On The Hill from Magical Mystery Tour

And just in case those who hate “Ob-La-Di…” are still complaining that Paul is a talentless huckster, we have this song to shut them up. If you can’t find the time to lighten up, here is something of much more weight to satisfy you. Those woodwinds! That voice! “The man of a thousand voices talking perfectly loud”! It’s got a great scene in the movie, too.

42. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (Reprise) from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band41. Good Morning Good Morning from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

I combined the first “Sgt. Pepper” so why not combine the reprise as well? These two go together every bit as much as the two opening tracks. After the many, many diversions over the course of the album, and the slow-burner of “Lovely Rita” the boys pull out all the rock and roll stops to bring the house down. On “Good Morning, Good Morning,” the guitars are blistering, the horns are almost percussion instruments, and the constant changes in meter give the song a herky-jerky feeling. As Paul would later declare, this was John skewering the “suburban torpor.” Can we transcend the banalities of life in the modern liberal state? The pulsing sound and sly irony in John’s voice suggests that even amidst the drudgery, all is not lost. Each verse concludes

with the line, “I’ve got nothing to say but it’s okay,” which is better than nothing, eh? The extended outro fades into animal sounds, and out of it emerges the reprise, which rocks quite a bit harder than the original. Some fantastic drumming, and a big goodbye to the crowd, closing off the album, and giving “A Day in the Life” the space it deserves.

40. All My Loving from With The Beatles

The best song from With the Beatles, hands down. It’s also the best of their many “we’ll be apart, but our love will endure” songs from the early years. I love the way it jumps right out of the gate with “close your eyes and I’ll kiss you.” I’m told it’s a fairly sophiscated song musically, though I don’t really know A from B as far as that goes. I do know that it’s got a great melody, though.

39. I’m Only Sleeping from Revolver

The production still sounds amazing 40 years later. The backward guitars are nicely done, and the overall feel of the song is of heaviness, even drowsiness. It’s precisely the sort of song that, totally apart from the lyrics, feels appropriate for a listless late morning when you just can’t drag yourself out of bed to face the day. John’s vocals are, as usual, well done. But the highlight for me might be, as bizarre as it sounds, the short interludes with the bass (for example, from 1:56 to 2:03). It’s such a small part of the song, but it really sets the whole mood. If you pay attention, you’ll notice that bass riff throughout the song. By the way, you can contrast this one with “I’m So Tired.” Same basic theme, but such completely different approaches that they end up feeling and sounding totally dissimilar.

38. Eleanor Rigby from Revolver

Almost certainly the preeminent example of Paul’s ability to create a story in a song, “Eleanor Rigby” is like an entire novel condensed into a two-minute song. It is so brilliant because the first two verses sound entirely disconnected, and it isn’t until the final verse that you understand the connection between these two. Beyond that, it is so fitting that although they are connected, the “meeting” of the two only serves to heighten the feeling of loneliness. And those strings! Where would The Beatles have been without George Martin? Surely they would still have been a huge band, but I think it would have been nowhere close to the same thing.

37. Got To Get You Into My Life from Revolver

The third from Revolver in a row, and they really run the gamut. From the classical orchestration of “Eleanor Rigby” to the trippy backwards guitars and lazy sound of “I’m Only Sleeping” to the…well…whatever it is that we’ve got here? Is it a pop song? Is it rock and roll? Blues? Motown? It was re-released in the 70s as a single and did reasonably well but are we sure it wasn’t actually originally from then, but fell through a wormhole and dropped back a decade in time? Because it sure sounds more at home in that decade. The horns really make this one, and Paul gives a fine vocal performance. This is also another example of perfectly organizing the tracks on the album. “I Want to Tell You,” which is similar both in theme and style, leads into this one. And on a normal album, this would be the big finale, with the extended outro to send us

all on our way. But…just as we are packing up our things and looking for the exit, the lights dim again and we are hit full-force with “Tomorrow Never Knows.”

36. Strawberry Fields Forever from Magical Mystery Tour

A tour de force for John, drawing in many of the elements they had introduced on Revolver and Sgt. Pepper, with bizarre chord progressions, a whole host of backing instruments, backwards tapes, studio mutterings buried in the mix (this is where the infamous supposed quote of “I buried Paul” is meant to be. In fact, John is simply saying “cranberry sauce”). One new innovation, which would appear on a number of occasions is the false ending. Musically, it draws from the ‘heavy’ music which was beginning to emerge from San Francisco. Lyrically, it draws from John’s childhood to paint a picture of inchoate anxiety and confusion. And yet it is not negative. Nothing really makes sense, and we all experience our lives differently. But maybe that’s just fine.

One other note on the studio trickery. As is often discussed, the “final” version is really two different takes spliced together. The problem was that the two takes had been recorded in different keys! So take 7 (in the key of A) was speeded up slightly, and take 26 (in the key of B) was slowed down, in order that they would both approximate the key of B flat. Of course, the transition is not quite seemless (you can notice the change at the 1:00 mark – the latter section sounds thicker, if that makes sense), but in my mind this is a bit of serendipity, as the song is all about feeling a bit disjointed without being able to quite explain why or how.

35. Octopus’s Garden from Abbey Road

Ringo didn’t do too badly for himself, did he? Only two songs, but they both fared pretty well. In fact, I’m pretty sure he will end up with the highest average ranking. Though to be fair, a huge part of why this song is so good is the ridiculous talents of the other three, the backing vocals, the guitars, the bass… The series of descending notes behind “we would be so happy, you and me” and the guitar in the last 30 seconds as Ringo repeats “In an octopus’s garden, with you…” are some of the very best Beatle-moments. Still, Ringo does a mighty fine job himself. Great drumming, and this song is perfectly suited to his voice: warm, friendly, no pretension, no assumed irony. He is singing a song living in an octopus’s garden and all you can think is “yeah, that does sound nice, doesn’t it, Ringo?”

34. Here, There, and Everywhere from Revolver

Incredibly beautiful. Especially Paul’s voice, and those harmonies. When he sings “there…running my hands through her hair,” my heart pretty much just melts. The only thing that holds me back on this one is something I’ve mentioned before: the single-plucked guitar notes over every…single…beat…of…percussion. It just punctuates the notes too much. The musical accompaniment is so secondary to this song that it should stay far in the background and accentuate (as it does in the bridges). It’s a minor complaint, but we’re splitting hairs to try and rank these things at this point.

Paul wrote the song after hearing Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys–he wanted to produce something that could stack up. It certainly beats 12 of the 13 songs from that record, though I have to say “God Only Knows” is probably even better.

33. Don’t Let Me Down from Past Masters, Vol 2

This song has been steadily rising in my opinion for a couple years now. At the current pace, it’s scheduled to take over the #1 slot in early 2007. I said a couple of days ago that “I’ve Got a Feeling” is what Let It Be was really supposed to be about, but that was wrong: this song is what it was all about. It sounds like it was recorded all in one take. It’s delightfully imperfect. And it’s just haunting. John’s voice goes into I can’t even count how many different places, with screams, yelps, deep places, and soaring heights. And that piano playing by Billy Preston is just…have I already used the word “haunting?” Well, it gives me shivers.

32. Eight Days A Week from Beatles For Sale

We should need no explanation for this song. It is pure joy to listen to it, and that’s all there is to it. The faded intro, the clever title, the pureness of the melody. If ever you have been in love, you know that it feels like this song is playing inside your head constantly.

31. Piggies from The White Album

I know it’s not a particularly consequential song, but who cares? It’s a great bit of fun, and one of the few times that George shows his playful side. Add in the macabre element of the cannibalistic piggies, the not-so-subtle digs at The Man, and the joyous melody and you’ve got a song the whole family can love.

Beatles from worst to first 10 (30-11)Posted on May 14, 2006 by olneyce

We’re getting very close to the end now. Trying to choose which song to keep low is growing more and more painful. A lot of the famous ones are on the list today, but there are at least a couple that might be a little bit more under the radar. You’ll notice that a group of 10 songs from 22-31 come from only three albums (Rubber Soul, Help!, and the White Album). Not really sure why that happened.

My discussion on a number of these is a lot more personal than I have been before. That’s what happens when we get into my very favorite songs by my very favorite band. These songs have been the soundtrack to my life for the last 15 or 20 years. For my happiest moments and my saddest moments, these songs were there, keeping me company, helping me along.

By the way, I’ve finally caught up to myself on the comments. When I started, I had a good 3 or 4 day buffer of comments on the songs completed. The gap has been narrowing each day and now I have nothing written for the last 10. Frankly, the task is a little daunting. How can I

possibly explain what makes these songs so great? But I’ll get it done, I hope, and tomorrow will come the top 10.

30. Blackbird from The White Album

Utter simplicity. It’s just Paul, his guitar, and (I think) a metronome. The first few seconds are among the most beautiful moments of music I can think of. “All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise…” The only thing that marrs the song for me is the bird noises at the end. I don’t think they’re terrible, and when I’m in the right mood, I even appreciate the texture they add to the song. But I do think it might have sustained the lighter-than-air feeling even better if it had stayed just Paul and his guitar. By the way, what’s the deal with all the songs about animals on the White Album? We’ve got “Blackbird” and “Piggies” to start with. But then there’s “Rocky Raccoon.” And as I’ve mentioned “Martha My Dear” is about Paul’s dog. And “Bungalow Bill” is about hunting. And just in case we were wondering, John lets us know that his monkey has nothing to hide.

29. Nowhere Man from Rubber Soul

Amazingly enough, this is the first time they wrote a song that wasn’t about love. It’s not the most sophisticated song, maybe even a little trite compared to their later cosmic musings, but the simplicity is also part of its charm. Some people seem to think the song is preachy, but I think that misses the point–John wrote this song at himself, making this the thematic precursor to “I’m So Tired” and other songs about his state of mind. Great harmonies here. And I love the Nowhere Man from the Yellow Submarine movie.

28. Happiness Is A Warm Gun from The White Album

Four totally unique songs (or song fragments) in one, all in under three minutes and somehow it not only holds together, it creates a gestalt whole that is far beyond the already significant strengths of each part. Section 1: “She’s not a girl who misses much.” Draws you in slowly and then hits you again and again with fascinating imagery. The man with the mirrors on his boots is actually someone John knew (he was trying to see up girls’ skirts). Section 2: “I need a fix.” Dominated by that fuzz guitar, it only lasts about 20 seconds, but paves the way perfectly for… Section 3: “Mother Superior jumped the gun.” That would be Yoko. The tambourine enters, and after a couple repetitions we finally encounter… Section 4: “Happiness is a warm gun.” The dark mood of the song is lifted and we are treated to a back and forth between John and his chorus about…well…happiness being a warm gun.

The title comes from an advertisement John saw which claimed that happiness was, indeed, a warm gun, but I’ve always enjoyed the ambiguity of it. First, is the gun a gun or a metaphor for You-Know-What? It is clearly sexual, but exactly how sexual? Second, are we meant to understand that happiness is a state which is achieved upon the firing of a gun? Or is it that happiness itself IS a warm gun?

27. Julia from The White Album

This song holds a special place in my heart. When I was in high school, a friend of mine named Julia died in a car accident. She was one of the more amazing people I have ever met: spontaneous, intelligent, caring, wise, and fun. She was the kind of girl you just knew was going to be President one day, or write a world class symphony, or cure cancer. But more importantly, you knew that she was going to live life to its fullest. I never got to know her as well as I would have liked, something I only realized completely once she was gone. When I heard about the accident, I couldn’t help but think of the line “half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it just to reach you.” John’s song is for his mother, but I think the sentiment is the same. A sense of loss, an ethereal sound, the delicately plucked guitars, and John’s heartbreaking voice. Julia’s parents set up a foundation in her name that does all kinds of things that Julia would have loved. While a song this beautiful is a fitting tribute, a tangible foundation that gets real things done is even better. I miss you, Julia. I’m sorry I never got to know you better.

26. I Will from The White Album

There’s a run on White Album songs, with 5 of the last 6 coming from it. This is the last one, and it’s a bit of a surprise to find at the top of the heap. Still, for all the amazingly complex work that they were doing at the time, my heart continues to fall back on this simple, short, and incredibly beautiful song about an ideal love, or perhaps for someone who has come to fill that idealized role. I used to walk around for days at a time with this in my head, almost in a dream. I would wait a lonely lifetime…

25. You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away from Help!

Last winter, I went through a pretty tough time which included several weeks alone in Hanover, New Hampshire. During that time, I listened to this song a LOT. It’s not a common feeling for me, but there are times when you just cannot even imagine trying to face the world because you’re so busy trying to keep yourself from falling apart. This is John at his folky (is that even a word?) best. I’ve talked a lot about his voice on the more upbeat numbers, but he shows here he can do the world-weary folk-singer just as well. The classic debate about which Beatle is your favorite is a tough one for me. Purely based on the songs, I think I might have to go with Paul, but with John, you know the emotion, the pain, and the joy is all real. He can lash out and threaten to break every heart in the world on “I’ll Cry Instead,” he can insist that “All You Need is Love” and he can sit devastated in the corner on this song, and you understand it’s all different aspects of the same person.

24. Ticket to Ride from Help!

In some ways, this song was the turning point. Beatles For Sale showed them going in new directions, but the release of this single a few months later made it clear that they were soon to be walking on paths never before seen. From the first few seconds, with that ringing guitar riff and the crazy drum beats, this is the real deal. And the moment when John sings “awwwww, she’s got a ticket to ride” is one of my all-time favorite moments in any song.

22. I’m Looking Through You from Rubber Soul23. I’ve Just Seen a Face from Help!

These songs come from two different albums, one of which was supposed to be the “breakthrough” but to my ear, they sound to be cut from very much the same cloth, showing once again that the best moments of Help! are everything that Rubber Soul is meant to be. Acoustically driven, these show Paul at his folk-rocking best, with an ever-so-slight bit of blues influence. Thematically, I also see them as connected. “I’ve Just Seen a Face” is that first moment, when you have glimpsed all the glory of creation. You stumble over yourself, and the words to express your joy can’t seem to come fast enough. All you want is to hang onto that ephemeral feeling. “I’m Looking Through You” is on the far side, when you have seen your dreams fall through. Yet it is also about a single moment of realization, when everything that once made sense finally is revealed as false. It rocks a little bit harder because, as we all know, the fall from the heights is a lot more devastating than the climb.

21. Here Comes The Sun from Abbey Road

Can a song feel like sunshine? Yes, it can, and George Harrison is here to prove it. This is my favorite George song (though it runs into some stiff competition from a number of his solo songs) and it’s just one of those tunes that’s guaranteed to make you feel good no matter what. It gets the full Beatle treatment, with some fine drumming by George and those glorious handclaps. I really enjoy George when he is just a little less serious, and just expresses joy at being alive (which is why, as much as I like his first couple solo albums, I think my favorites might be the ones from the 80s: “Gone Troppo” and “Cloud Nine” where he’s just having a blast with his music).

A thought about album placement: Abbey Road was designed to be an LP where you would have to, physically, get up and turn the record over (imagine that!). In that context, there was something significant about moving past the thunderstorming coda of “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” and into the sunlight of Side Two. The same effect holds true on the CD, but I sometimes think it comes a little too quickly. The time it took to change the record provided a little breathing room, an intermission, between the changing of the seasons.

20. And Your Bird Can Sing from Revolver

Worth the price of admission just for that opening guitar lick. It just jumps out of the speakers, grabs you by the collar, and shakes you around. An interesting comment was left a couple days ago by The Sanity Inspector: “I liked the story Joe Walsh told about “And YourBird Can Sing”. He practiced and practiced until he could finally play the guitar part, and then later learned that George had simply double-tracked himself. “Wow!”, Walsh quoted himself as saying. “Am I the only person in the world who can play this?”” That’s pretty funny. For what it’s worth, John never liked the song, but what does he know?

19. Please Please Me from Please Please Me

This song is pure energy. In bottled form, it’s more dangerous than liquid nitrogen. Ford is working on a new model of car which runs entirely on this song. That blackout across the Northeast back in 2003? Yeah, it was caused by me playing this song too loudly–it overloaded the whole grid. There is the “come on, come on” section, the clever wordplay (“I do all the

pleasing with you, it’s so hard to reason…with you, oh yeah, why do you make me blue?”), and that amazing guitar (check out from 46-48, for an example). I defy anyone to listen to this song and not feel blessed to simply being alive and in possession of functioning ears.

18. I Want to Hold Your Hand from Past Masters, Vol 1

Speaking of music that could start a forest fire… How did they not just give up after this song–how did they have the courage to try and top it? The magic of this song is amazing: you can really understand how it changed the world. It’s just a series of climactic moments, one on top of another, until you just can’t take it any more. And when their voices rise up with that third “I can’t hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide” it’s like a volcano erupting. And the handclaps, don’t forget about the handclaps. And how many completely different ways can you make “I want to hold your hand” sound like the single most important thing that has ever been said? I count at least three in this song. Fine, I admit it, if I had been born 30 years earlier, I would have been right there screaming my lungs out for this song.

17. I Am The Walrus from Magical Mystery Tour

The very best of their more “experimental” songs (depending on how you define “A Day in the Life”), this one goes off in about a million directions, yet somehow manages to never feel lost or off track. Despite the reputation for this as seriously far-out, I will say that the thing which grabs me more than anything else is that it’s got a fantastic beat. Some of my favorite moments (a list which cannot possibly be exhaustive): John singing “I’m cryyyyyying.” The overdub of the radio broadcast from King Lear: “oh, untimely death!” (bear in mind that it wasn’t planned–this is just what was one. Talk about serendipity). “I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together”–once again, from a song that’s intentionally nonsense, this is one of John’s more profound lines. The middle section with those strings and “sitting in an English garden waiting for the sun.” Just an amazing song.

16. The Long And Winding Road from Let It Be

Alright, I’ll admit it. I like the Phil Spector-ed version best. Sure, it isn’t what Paul intended, but even a genius can be (very slightly) wrong once in a while. The strings and the chorus give the song a grandiose feel that it really needs. It’s incredibly pretty and moving, but it is the kind of song that has to feel epic–it shouldn’t just be moving, it should make you ache inside–and the orchestration helps it achieve that. If you need one example to prove Spector’s version is better, check out the section from 2:25-2:40. In Paul’s version, he repeats “many times I’ve been alone” in a curiously dull spoken voice. Spector eliminates it and adds a soaring violin solo, and it’s exactly what is needed.

Funny story about this song, it features prominently in a movie I made in college: The 30-Minute Return of the King. For reasons not worth getting into now, a friend and I decided that we should show Peter Jackson how it was MEANT to be done, and produced a movie without all the Hollywood silliness like “special effects” and “acting talent” and “a script that goes longer than 25 seconds between penis jokes.” Needless to say it was a smashing success, though for some reason our invitation to the Academy Awards seems to have gotten lost in the mail. Anyways,

this song plays over the scene where Frodo and Sam struggle on toward Mt. Doom (the long and winding road that leads to Mordor…get it? Hahaha. Oh I slay me sometimes). The rest of the soundtrack is similarly awesome, including such classics as “I Whupped Batman’s Ass” by Wesley Willis, “Wind Beneath My Wings” by Bette Midler,” and the Mortal Kombat theme.

Hmmmmmm, I seem to have gotten a little off track here, so let’s just move on to the next song…

15. Across The Universe from Let It Be

This is the song in the top 20 that is the most mercurial for me. I originally put it in the top 10, and it still could easily be there on a good day. But other times I might drop it as low as 20. Either way, it’s an all-time great, of course. Way way back on “One After 909” I commented that the Let it Be Naked version of that song was the only one to be superior to the original. I have no idea how I forgot about this one. I fell in love with the Spector-ed version, but this is one case where the lush orchestration is UTTERLY out of place. And don’t even get me started on the World Wildlife version from the Past Masters. I’m not prepared to say that the version on Naked is the perfect version of the song–sadly, I don’t think the perfect version exists–but of the imperfect options, it is clearly the best. Mostly unvarnished, we are able to here the pure beauty of the song. In my mind this song goes hand in hand with someone standing alone on a hilltop at night, staring off into the distance, perhaps at some object beyond the curve of the earth, perhaps off into the stars. And the lyrics are among the very best poetry they ever created. “Pools of sorrow, waves of joy,” “thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox,” and more.

14. We Can Work It Out from Past Masters, Vol 2

Much celebrated for the John/Paul interplay between verse and bridge, and rightly so. It’s like two completely different songs, both in tone (“we can work it out” vs. “life is very short”), and in style (upbeat rock number vs. downbeat waltz). Yet the transition between the two is so perfect that you cannot even imagine how one could exist without the other. As John’s bridge ends with the slowed-down waltz, Paul’s verse burts forth with a renewed force, like the sun cutting through the clouds. One thing you’d never notice until you pay attention: the forcefulness of the underlying instruments grows substantially over the course of the song. Try listening to it and, in the middle of that last verse by Paul, quickly switch back to the opening few seconds. It builds gradually, but what starts off as gentle-but-insistent ends up with quite a kick.

13. She Said She Said from Revolver

There was a time not all that long ago (5 or 6 years, perhaps) when this one wouldn’t even have been in the top half of my favorite songs from Revolver. If you’ll pardon the pun, I should’ve known better. Everything that made the middle-period great is here to be found, including but not limited to: the almost overpowering lead guitar, great drumming, pyschedelic imagery, experimentation while still keeping a firm grip on writing great tunes. Oh, and the seamless amalgamation of two completely different songs into one perfect whole. Who would ever have guessed that the sunny little fragment “when I was a boooooooyyyyyy, everything was right” would turn out to be exactly what was needed to complete a song about a terrifying drug trip. No

one but these boys and that’s why they’re the biggest band of all-time. One final note: check out the way the pace of the drums quickens substantially in the last 20 seconds. It creates a fascinating double-effect of a fadeout that, at the same time, heightens the adrenaline rush of an already overwhelming song.

12. Rain from Past Masters, Vol 2

This, even more than “Octopus’s Garden” is Ringo’s shining moment with The Beatles. Just listen to that drumming! Next time anyone tries to tell you that Ringo wasn’t any good, play this song at them and they’ll shut up right quick. Everyone else shows up to play as well, with some great guitar-work, and probably their most seamless piece of studio trickery. Other songs might be more complex, but the backwards vocals are perfectly integrated, such that they feel entirely organic. And the whole song feels like a tidal wave. I know it’s a cliche to call something punchy, but I’m not talking about a little punch, I’m talking about flat-on-your-back, wake-me-up-next-week punchy. I’m not sure you could do any better with the technology we’ve got now. Oh, and there’s some great lyrics from John, one of his best efforts at social commentary minus the heavy-handedness. Anyways, how is this song not more famous? If you haven’t heard it, go out and buy a copy of the Past Masters volume 2 today. You won’t regret it.

11. A Day In The Life from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band

How in the world is this song not number 1? What more can we expect from music? If I was doing a “best of” list, it might very well be at the top, but as it’s just me and my tastes, this one somehow gets bumped out of the top 10. Doesn’t really seem right, but there it is. It’s the quintessential song from the quintessential album. I cannot possibly do justice to it, so I will shy away from any attempt to speak about what’s REALLY going on here and instead simply mention a few highlights.

To begin with, any discussion of this song is, by law, required to mention both of the following. 1. The interplay between John and Paul. In some ways, this song is the mirror image of “We Can Work It Out.” Here, the primary verse is John’s eerie accounts of the “the news today,” while Paul supplies his own completely distinct song for the bridge. For a brief moment, we move from abstraction to the concrete, from the gauzy texture of John’s section to the smoother, lighter feel of Paul’s, from the bizarrely mundane events of the world “out there” to the bizarrely mundane events of one’s own life. 2. The orchestra. They brought in 41 people who clearly had no idea what they were in for. For that huge buildup, they were left completely on their own, apart from the general instruction to get from the lowest note to the highest by the end of the 24 bars. It is fascinating to listen to all the instruments rising, but each at their own pace. And then, after an almost unimaginable build-up, that final piano note, lasting over 40 seconds as they turn the volume up higher and higher to catch the fading hum.

Apart from those, can we talk for a second about the sound of the song? Delightfully off-kilter, particularly in Paul’s bridge, the piano, the drums, and the bass do everything in their power to keep you off balance. John’s voice is another highlight, as if broadcast from another plane of existence through some twisting of space and time around a dimension we can’t even

understand. I could go on and on but the more I do the more I’ll have to beat myself up for ranking it this low, so I’d better be on my way.

Beatles from worst to first 11 (the top 10)Posted on May 15, 2006 by olneyce

And here are the top 10 (or top 9, or top 16, depending on how you feel about the medley, a question which you will soon discover I am conflicted on myself). All of these songs are amazing, and when I’m listening to any one of them, I am completely satisfied. I have some I like even more than others, but you really couldn’t go wrong with any of them.

I’m going to be (even more) long-winded than usual today, which I hope you can forgive. I could talk almost endlessly about these songs, and there are tons of anecdotes, favorite moments, and memories about these songs I’ve left out.

10. All You Need Is Love from Magical Mystery Tour

Sure, it sounds a little silly in this cynical day and age. And sure, it probably sounded a little too starry-eyed even at the time. But who cares? Maybe love alone isn’t enough, but we have to believe that it’s possible. At some point in the Anthology, one of them (probably Paul) commented that one of the great things about The Beatles is that, at their core, they sang songs about love and joy and positive things. And this is the best of them all.

This song was written specially to be broadcast on the first ever global satellite transmission. Over 300 million people watched as the biggest band in the world told them that love was enough. That such a thing could even occur gives me some hope. It opens with the theme from La Marseillaise, which adds a perfect amount of international flare (and also reminds me of one of my all-time favorite movie scenes in Casablanca when Victor Lazlo leads the crowd in a rendition of this song to drown out the Germans). Other highlights include deceptively simple lyrics from John: “nothing you can know that isn’t known, nothing you see that isn’t shown, there’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be…it’s easy” and a fantastic outro with the “love is all you need” the playful horns, and that transcendental moment when out of the swirling sounds emerges “she loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” It all comes full circle…

Oh, and speaking of favorite movie scenes, one of the most heart-wrenching is in the Imagine movie when this song plays as the whole world mourns his death. There’s one moment when you can see someone singing along at the top of her lungs with tears streaming down her face. The magic of John is that it doesn’t seem the least bit silly for her to feel that way.

9. Yesterday from Help!

This is justifiably one of the most famous songs of all time. Every detail is done exactly right. Holding off on the entrance of the strings until the second verse: perfect. The descending notes at the end of the second bridge (“now I long for yester…day…ay…ay…ay”): perfect. Perfect

craftsmanship, perfect songwriting, perfect singing. Such sadness, such aching loss, it’s a portrait of a heart that is breaking, as sophisticated as any novel could be. I would say that there’s no point in me even describing the song since if you haven’t heard it you clearly have been living on Neptune since 1965, but I have a good friend who insisted that she had never heard this song until I played it for her. No joke.

8. Help! from Help!

Bursts out of your speakers with that opening “Help!” and then launches into the very best of their upbeat rockers. John turns in yet another fantastic vocal performance, but Paul and George do just fine for themselves as well. Have you ever noticed the variations in the backing harmonies? At times, they’re singing along with John, at times they’re following behind him, at times they’re a step ahead. I really think it’s a big part of what makes the song sound so unique, and what gives it such a broad scope.

Another thought: I’ve been talking through this whole thing as if “Nowhere Man” was their first song that wasn’t about love because I’ve always been told that. But now that I think about it, this isn’t really a love song. At the time, one might assume “I do appreciate you being round” is a romantic sentiment, but in retrospect there is no reason to think so. This is a song about finding yourself to not be sufficient for the tasks you face, and reaching out for help, for support in getting your life together. That could be romantic, but it’s really much broader. It’s also incredibly brave. It’s hard to admit that you’re scared and that you don’t have all the answers, especially if you’re a rock star on top of the world.

7. For No One from Revolver

“The day breaks, your mind aches, you find that all her words of kindness linger on when she no longer needs you.” Who starts a song like that? That’s just amazing. And then there’s the French Horn solo, which for 14 seconds proves that there is a God, and he was caught on tape in the Abbey Road studio in 1966. And then the horn returns to break your heart all over again, joining with Paul for the beginning of the final verse. And, as if all that wasn’t enough, there’s the haunting piano and the light touch of the bass. I love “Yesterday,” obviously, but I really think this is the definitive song about heartbreak and loss.

6. Let It Be from Let It Be

There’s a part of me that knows the song is a little too sappy, overwrought, and overdone. But there’s a much stronger part that just doesn’t care. It’s so good it has every right to be over the top. You couldn’t go wrong with any of the versions, but my favorite is the one on the original Let It Be for the most organic sounding of the various solos, for the backing “ooooooooooos,” and for that moment about a minute and a half in when the song explodes. My absolute favorite is when Paul sings “I wake up to the sound of music…” Somehow it just seems to be enough. No matter the trouble, you wake up to the sound of music and you know that you can go on.

5. Penny Lane from Magical Mystery Tour

This is the song I rely on to make me happy no matter what the circumstances. When my grandfather died, I listened to this song on repeat for hours–it was the only thing that kept me from feeling like the whole world was slipping out from under me. When things are getting me down, this is what I hold in reserve. I always know that if I haven’t had to put on “Penny Lane” yet, it can’t really be that bad. More than anything else, it’s the sound of Paul’s voice. It’s like he’s smiling the whole way through the song. The bouncing bass and the churning piano help, too. And then there’s the glorious trumpet which, like on “For No One” has its solo in the sun, but returns later in the song to lend a hand for the climax. But that voice. That’s what it’s all about.

Regarding the “Penny Lane/Strawberry Fields Forever” single, it’s common for people to declare it the conclusive proof that Paul is an entertainer while John is an artist. This is usually phrased in a value-neutral way, but the subtext is almost always to declare that John is more sophisticated and “Penny Lane,” for all of the pleasure one has in listening to it, was not as ground-breaking or as forward-looking. In my opinion, that’s just plain silly. “Penny Lane” is every bit as nuanced, every bit the work of art that “Strawberry Fields” is, and it has the added benefit of sounding like laughter, like a warm afternoon in the park, like every friend you haven’t seen in a decade but run into on the street, like getting off a plane and seeing your loved ones. He sketches all of these characters, reveals their foibles and silliness, their strangeness, but only gives us just enough to understand how little we understand. And we come to realize that the point is not to understand, but simply to love without cause, to accept without knowledge. Rather than trying to seek out, to identify, to control, we let the world wash over us, and accept it as “very strange.”

4. In My Life from Rubber Soul

Is there a more beautiful love song in existence (okay, there is one: “Romeo and Juliet” by Dire Straits, but still–only one)? “But of all these friends and lovers, there is no one compares with you.” The romance is so powerful because it is not overwhelming or effusive. It is not simply a song on the theme of “gee, you’re swell” – in John’s musings on the importance of memories and the past, he comes to the slow realization that this moment, this time with one particular person, is the best of times. We tend to romanticize the past, and the present always seems to slip away from us. It is sometimes hard to take stock and recognize true wonder and happiness when it is being lived.

Many of the traditional Beatles tricks are at play here. There is John’s double-tracked voice, intimate and tender, and Paul joins in on every other line. Also, three songs in the top 10 share a “classical” instrumental interlude (the horn solo on “For No One,” the piccolo trumpet on “Penny Lane” and the piano on this song). Of the three, this one is my favorite. George Martin recorded it slower and then speeded up the tape to give it the dancing, baroque feel we all know so well.

3. Hey Jude from Past Masters, Vol 2

This has been my favorite Beatles song since I was about 10 years old, to the point where it was almost instinct: “what’s your favorite Beatles song?” “Hey Jude, of course.” I’ve sort of been dreading the arrival of the top 10 because I knew it was going to force me to really think about

whether it was still true. “Hey Jude” has been there for me for my whole life, an institution, and foundation for my whole being. But still, there comes a time to say goodbye, and in doing so, to move on to the next stage of your life. It’s kind of the whole point of the song after all: “Hey Jude don’t let me down, you have found her, now go and get her.” So I know in the grand scheme of things, where I rank a song by The Beatles doesn’t really matter that much, but it’s symbolic. It’s about recognizing that people can change, that beauty can be discovered in new places, and that holding onto the past for its own sake is silly.

As for what makes this song so great, I think everyone knows. Even the most emphatic of the Paul-bashers have to admit the purity, the genius of this song. Starting with Paul, alone at his piano, and slowly bringing in backing elements to reach a stunning crescendo, and then sustaining that climax for the final four minutes of the song. The drums come in at the perfect moment, but (like many great elements of Beatles songs) this was serendipity. Ringo was in the bathroom when this take began and had to rush back; he enters the fray several measures past the original plan–yet it works perfectly. This song also features the glorious harmonies that just leave my heart in a puddle on the floor (seriously, you can take the Beach Boys, you can take the Everly Brothers, you can take ’em all – I’ll take The Beatles for my harmonies). And then the whole monumental four minute outro. It is transcendent–the na na nas burrow into your soul and you achieve a deep and abiding inner peace. Meanwhile Paul is going nuts with his extemporaneous screams, and the background music only continues to grow. This was their biggest selling single, and rightly so.

1. and 2. The Abbey Road Medley (You Never Give Me Your Money/Sun King/Mean Mr. Mustard/Polythene Pam/She Came In Through The Bathroom Window and Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End) from Abbey Road

So here we are. I said at the beginning that I would consider the medley to be two songs, which I still do…sort of. I originally had the second part (Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End) at #3 and the first part at #10. But that’s not fair. It’s really a single piece, a work of art that spans 15 minutes and many phases. If we had any doubt, the reappearance of the refrain from “You Never Give Me Your Money” in “Carry That Weight” would make it clear. In its totality, the medley is the clearest proof in existence that the whole may not only be greater than the sum of its parts, but may transcend them to such an extent that it becomes something completely different. So, in retrospect, I probably should have made it a single song. Feel free to mentally adjust every song up one spot accordingly, if you’d like.

Three of these songs (“You Never Give Me Your Money,” “She Came in Through the Bathroom Window,” and “The End”) would fit comfortably in the top 20 on their own but the broad scope provides time for dramatic ebbs and flows. The three form the backbone of the broader work as the start, the end, and the climactic moment in the middle. But the other songs provide background, dramatic progression, and (in some cases) breathing room.

Paul is in charge, but everyone gets their moment in the sun. Ringo’s drumming is fantastic–explosive and strong (check out “…Bathroom Window”), and he gets his one drum solo to shine. All three guitarists trade licks on “The End” demonstrating that these boys knew how to rock and roll as well as anyone. John is at his playful best on “Mean Mr. Mustard and Polythene Pam.”

“You Never Give Me Your Money” sets the stage, with its own mini-arc, a story that would make Springsteen proud, of what happens when nothing is left but everything is possible: “one sweet dream came true today…” However, this is only the introduction, themes are introduced but not fulfilled, the stage is filled, but the story is left to tell. Next is “Sun King” to dial down the tension, to provide a buffer before the rambunctious energy of the next three tracks. It’s by far the weakest song of the medley, though it is not terrible by any stretch and does serve its purpose well.

“Mean Mr. Mustard had been floating around since 1968 and was drafted into service here, and John decided his sister really ought to be named “Pam,” adding just another touch of continuity. These two songs just build and build, “Mustard” being drive by that fuzz guitar and “Pam” by Ringo’s powerful drumming and the interplay between the rhythm and lead guitars. “She Came in Through…” was recorded in a single take with “Polythene Pam,” and, as such, they share essentially the same backing track. However, where “Pam” was a fragment of a song, this is the complete package. In fact, it hardly makes sense to consider “Mustard” and “Pam” as anything but the set-up for this song. Together, they form a movement of the medley and build towards the first climax.

If they had ended at this point, it would have been perfectly adequate. Still, it finishes rather abruptly, suggesting that we are meant to read this ending as a false climax. Many of the loose ends have been tied up, but the final chapter is still to come.

That is provided by the second half of the medley (which, as I mentioned, would be my #3 song all on its own). We return, as the medley began, with the soft strains of the piano. “Golden Slumbers” carries the feel of a lullaby, but quickly expands, blossoming into “Carry That Weight” a song which I can’t help but associating with “Hey Jude” (“don’t carry the world upon your shoulders” – “boy, you’re gonna carry that weight a long time). The long progression of the medley is given clarity by the inclusion of a reprise from the very beginning (“I never give you my pillow, I only send you my invitation”).

And it ends, of course, with “The End” as each of the players is given his chance to come out, take a bow, and play for us one last time. The tension grows and grows with each new guitar riff until it can go no further, the storm lifts, and out of the chaos and the madness emerges a single, clear note on the piano. And we have emerged on the far side, the far side of life, of death, of love and pain, of all that we have ever known. Here, the only thing left to say is “and in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make.” John later described this as one of Paul’s best, a “cosmic line,” and so it is.

This is the conclusion to their final album, and it is a fitting end. Soon after, John would declare “the dream is over” but he was wrong. The dream is still alive in every who has a copy of Abbey Road, who can listen to the conclusion to the greatest album by the greatest band in history–a band splitting apart at the seams, but who held it together long enough to create their masterpiece, and to give us all one last goodbye.

Thanks to everyone who’s been reading and commenting. I’ll return tomorrow to your regularly scheduled programming of more recent stuff, but it’s been a lot of fun getting the chance to go through all of these songs.

If I have any more Beatles-related thoughts, I may post them tomorrow, but as for now, it’s a beautiful day, so I’m going for a bike ride….