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PAST MASTERS VOL. II (The Beatles, 1988)

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Artist: The Beatles (A)

Recording Dates: 1962-1970

Release Date: March 7th,1988. UK

Record Label: Apple

Producer: George Martin

Rating: 10 (MUST HAVE)

 

 

Era: Psychedelia (1966-1969)

Subgenre: Psychedelia

Best Song: Hey Jude or Revolution, or Don’t Let Me Down, or any of the ones in red!

Songs: 1) Day Tripper; 2) We Can Work It Out; 3) Paperback Writer; 4) Rain; 5) Lady Madonna; 6) The Inner Light; 7) Hey Jude; 8) Revolution; 9) Get Back; 10) Don't Let Me Down; 11) The Ballad Of John And Yoko; 12) Old Brown Shoe; 13) Across The Universe; 14) Let It Be; 15) You Know My Name (Look Up The Number).

Why am I reviewing these two albums and not other compilations, like the 1973 Red and Blue Albums? The thing is, the Beatles' Red and Blue Albums are double LPs that compiled 54 of the best tracks from their discography, most of which had already been released on studio albums. Undoubtedly, these LPs are excellent compilations, but they still left out some gems: singles and B-sides that for a long time were impossible to find except in their original format. In 1987, Apple re-released the entire Beatles discography on CD, and this problem became glaringly obvious. Thus, in 1988, and in what I believe was Apple's best musical success after the group's dissolution, Past Masters Vol I was released, covering from 1962 to 1965, and Vol II covering from December '65 to 1970. Although generally considered a double album, it was sold as 2 separate discs, with the covers in reverse colors.

The albums, therefore, are not mere compilations, but rather encompass tracks that were never released on LPs, and which you basically couldn't own unless you had bought the corresponding singles during the quartet's active period. For this purpose, the re-release of their discography a year earlier was considered, in which Magical Mystery Tour finally ceased to be an EP and was completed with the tracks from the film and singles from that era, thus forming the superb and psychedelic LP it was always meant to be. This explains why there are no tracks from this period, now that they appeared on the album. The fact that they are arranged chronologically (just like the Red and Blue albums) also gives us the opportunity to see their musical evolution over time. Something that a 12-year-old boy, who couldn't understand how the group that played "Please Please Me" and "Blue Jay Way" could be the same band, would end up appreciating immensely.

Volume II maintains the same dynamic as Volume I, but with a different mood. To begin with, we have the first Double A-side single, a landmark track where neither song could be considered inferior to the other, and therefore, technically, there was no B-side. We're talking about "Day Tripper" and "We Can Work It Out"—which mark the evolution from the Beatles' early to their mature period. We have other iconic tracks like "Paperback Writer" and its B-side, "Rain," completing this era. The "Post Peppers" era is represented by just a couple of tracks, "Lady Madonna" and "The Inner Light," which are relatively weak compared to the spectacular creative period the band was experiencing, but justified by the aforementioned fact that Magical Mystery Tour was finally released as an LP a year earlier. The album returns to a high level with "Hey Jude" and "Revolution," which could easily have been another Double A-side, and which would become the quartet's most successful single worldwide, and deservedly so. “Don’t Let Me Down,” “Old Brown Shoe,” and “The Ballad of John & Yoko” round out the previously unreleased tracks from the band’s twilight years. But we also have some alternate versions of familiar songs, such as “Get Back,” “Across the Universe,” and “Let It Be,” released as singles in versions different from those on the album. “You Know My Name,” the B-side of the Let It Be single, is the only track that feels out of place on Vol. II, being one of John’s jams/jokes whose main merit is having Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones playing saxophone.

The mood of the second disc is different because it no longer has that sense of continuity from the first disc; instead, we can more clearly appreciate the band's different stages. There are also some slightly average tracks, but overall, Volume II sounds more spectacular due to the high level they had reached, and it's much more varied in terms of genres. Admittedly, it loses a little cohesion, but overall it shows the band in top form and ends up becoming one of the quartet's essential albums. Why does it start in 1965? Well, this album is supposed to cover the band's mature period, and "Day Tripper/We Can Work It Wout" were recorded during the Rubber Soul sessions, which can be considered transitional, but already a mature album. And secondly, I suppose it would have been too much to include in Volume I.

 

 

We kick things off with that monumental riff from “Day Tripper”. and here I must agree with Starostin that, despite not being a band that worried too much about riffs, this is perhaps the best they ever wrote, the most representative and covered by countless guitar heroes, starting with Hendrix, whether it was the whole song or just the riff in other songs. The song is mostly John's, although Paul contributed a few lines. In fact, it's Paul who sings the first verses, shouting them out, perhaps because they were too high for Lennon? John provides harmonies, and George joins in for a masterful bridge. It's worth noting here that the riff is complex, and Paul mirrors it with the bass while singing, something of a devilish degree of difficulty. John takes the lead vocals for the chorus, singing in falsetto, and they do a false ending, plus an “ahhh Ahhhh AHHH” in the style of “Twist & Shout” before returning to the riff. The lyrics were never fully deciphered. They're supposed to refer to the weekend hippies of San Francisco. John and George had just tried LSD, and this is perhaps one of the first references to drugs, although John never confirmed it. The song is simply spectacular, and although it was recorded during the Rubber Soul sessions, three days after "Drive My Car," they immediately knew it would be a single.

 

“We Can Work It Out” appeared alongside “Day Tripper” on an unreleased double A-side single. The song is mostly Paul's, but John wrote the bridge, making it one of those rare 50/50 collaborations, with each singing their part, although the initial idea came from Paul. The lyrics are personal, addressing the difficulties he faced with Jane Asher, who joined the Old Vic Theatre Company in 1965, causing conflict with Paul as they would see each other even less. McCartney's verses are full of optimism, contrasting with John's, “Life is very short, and there's no time, For fussing and fighting, my friend,” which has a more bitter note and is musically in minor keys, descending and slowing down. John plays the harmonium, giving it a slight French chanson feel, and also plays acoustic guitar. George simply played the tambourine here. Lennon wanted "Day Tripper" to be the A-side, but the rest of the band saw more commercial potential in "We Can Work It Out." In the end, it was released as a double A-side, but Paul's song reached higher positions on the radio.

 

We move into 1966 with Paul's "Paperback Writer". He composed it because an aunt criticized him for writing only love songs and suggested he write about other subjects. He took the idea to heart, and that afternoon in the studio, he saw Ringo reading a "Paperback," a cheap paperback novel. So, he wrote the lyrics from the perspective of a writer writing a letter to a publisher begging for a chance to be published. The song also reflects the rivalry they were experiencing with the Beach Boys. The vocals are overdubbed, attempting more complex harmonies like the Californians, and John also asked for the bass to be turned up, on which, incidentally, Paul begins to showcase his "jumpy bass" style, with increasingly intricate lines. The four strings, therefore, have a much more dominant sound. The song is meant to be comedic, a satire of aspiring writers like Edward Lear of the Daily Mirror, from whom they borrowed the name for the song's narrator. John and George were constantly laughing and joking during the recording sessions on April 13th and 14th, 1966. In the second verse, around the one-minute mark, if you listen closely, you'll notice they sing "Frère Jacques," a traditional French song, and they come in late for the third verse, at 1:21. Perhaps they decided to leave in this mistake, one of the most glaring in their discography, for the song's lighthearted tone. This would be the last song they played at their final concert in the USA.

 

Its B-side was “Rain”, and if you ask me, it should have been the other way around. Perhaps they didn't want to risk too much because of the experimental nature of “Rain,” but the truth is, it's a gem that formally kicked off the band's psychedelic period. It was recorded at the beginning of the Revolver sessions, but the single was released two months earlier, giving a glimpse of the sound the band had been moving towards. Although the structure is very simple, with brilliant arpeggios courtesy of George (on a brand-new SG), the song itself is quite complex, and it also showcases the Beatles and Martin's idea of using the recording studio as another instrument. Paul's bass line is monumental, and fortunately, once again, the sound makes it stand out, leaping spectacularly between two tones. Ringo sounds brutal with the riffs, especially when he brings the song back after the choruses, running all over the drums. He would say this is his best work with the Beatles. The melody is hypnotic, slow but brilliant, and George and Paul do a great job on the backing vocals. The chorus is magnificent, drawing out that “RaiiIIIiiiIIn,” which hangs almost suspended, until Ringo comes back in and they finish with “I don't mind.” Incidentally, John's lyrics came about in Melbourne. When they landed in Australia to finish the world tour, it was pouring rain, complicating logistics and the concerts. John would say he'd never seen rain like that in his life, so it's a critique of Londoners who complained about the British weather. However, it clearly also has psychedelic undertones. By this point, he and George were already deep into LSD, and the notes try to give it that fluorescent feel. The reversed vocals were a complete accident. Geoff Emerick, the sound engineer, was working with the tracks to find the exact tone John wanted for his voice, and he mistakenly reversed the vocal master. He was fascinated by the effect and showed it to the boys the next day. They re-recorded it slower and in a lower key, then sped it up in reverse to achieve that exotic tone. The lines "When the sun shines," the "Rain" from the chorus, and "If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads" would be re-recorded using this technique. Interestingly, the Beatles recorded promotional versions of these tracks, but for "Rain," recorded in the Cheswick House greenhouse, where they can be seen wearing glasses and with slightly longer hair, Paul can also be seen with a broken tooth, the result of an accident he had days earlier, which sparked the rumor of his death.

 

We jump ahead to 1968 with “Lady Madonna”, a song McCartney wrote while trying to write a boogie-woogie in the style of Fats Domino. The song is piano-based, played very rhythmically, very much in the style of old West saloons. Paul plays both the piano and that bass line in ascending scales, and sings in an affected manner, imitating the old Fats. The lyrics began as a reference to the Virgin Mary, but evolved into a playful tribute to single mothers juggling to survive and raise their children. In the song, he recounts the hardships he faces each day of the week, but skips Saturday. In a later interview, he admitted that he didn't realize this until years later, and that perhaps it's the day his mother takes for herself. The song is very upbeat and melodic, featuring a solo by saxophonist Ronnie Scott, who carries the entire coda. There aren't many harmonies, but George and Paul provide some very curious backing vocals for the bridge, which have always sounded to me like clucking, and they disrupt the song a bit.

 

Its B-side was “The Inner Light”, another of George's Indian-influenced songs. However, if you ask me, of all his works with Eastern instrumentation (“Love You To” and “Within You, Without You”), I think this is the most accomplished, with the best melody, the one that draws the most richness from exotic instruments, and the one with the most accessible lyrics. These are based on Taoist texts: “Arrive without traveling, See all without looking, Do all without doing,” summarizing transcendental meditation. John and Paul simply provide backing vocals. Harrison recorded the basic track in January 1968 in India, while preparing his Wonderwall Music, with a host of Indian musicians and instruments I won't even attempt to name. In February, John and Paul's vocals were added at Abbey Road before the entire group traveled to Rishikesh. As a curious note, this single reflects that transition from the psychedelic sounds of 1967 on the B-side, to a more rootsy rock, which would begin to dominate '68 on the A-side, and which in some way foreshadowed the sound of the White Album, after his return from India.

 

What can be said about "Hey Jude" that hasn't already been said? A monumental song by Paul, both for its emotion and structure, which he has elevated to an anthem by making it an unwavering staple of his concerts. It begins with Paul's voice, singing the title a moment before the piano enters for the first verse. Then the tambourine and a rhythm guitar come in for the second verse, while John and George provide those heavenly backing vocals in the background. Ringo runs through all his grooves before entering the bridge, now with the bass line layered in. The song is a gem, with an exquisite, catchy melody, full of hooks. At the end of each bridge, Paul sings "Nara na na's," along with a few piano notes to introduce the next verse. The lyrics, as we all know, are dedicated to Julian, John and Cynthia's son, who was suffering from his parents' divorce. Paul would visit Cynthia at home, and the song came to him as a way to offer comfort. It was originally going to be called "Hey Jules," but he ultimately settled on the final title to avoid sounding too obvious and because it sounded better. Julian would find out the song was for him years later, and he would emotionally acknowledge that he remembers more moments playing with Paul than with his father. "He worried about us a lot; back then, everyone turned their back on us. I remember the afternoon he sang the song to me. I have more pictures with Paul than with my father..." The lyrics, then, are addressed to someone going through a difficult time after a breakup, advising them to overcome the situation and get back on their feet: "Hey Jude, don't take it bad, take a sad song, and make it better." The song's structure repeats phrases with slight variations, making it more memorable. John would think it was dedicated to him, unaware for a long time that it was for his son. It was even rumored that it was for Paul himself, because McCartney told Lennon so, perhaps because he was afraid to reveal the true nature of the song. John would later say in interviews that Paul was still trying to get over Jane Asher. This is a bit silly considering he was already very serious with Linda Eastman. The fact is, it turned out to be an incredible song, and, as we've seen, universal. It offers comfort and motivation at any time for anyone, and the title sounds like "you," giving the impression that it's addressed to everyone. The main instrument is Paul himself. It's a journey of just over seven minutes through his entire vocal range, from that confessional and elegant beginning, becoming more emotional as that slow and majestic crescendo progresses, until it ends in total frenzy during the coda, capable of making entire stadiums tremble even today. It's incredibly simple: "Naaaa nara narananá, narananá, Hey Juuuude," with the orchestra joining in, along with the other Beatles, and a choir of over 100 people, transforming that simple mantra into a powerful anthem, almost on par with "All You Need Is Love." It's a song that absolutely has to be in the band's top ten, and it often even held the number one spot on my list. It spent nine weeks at the top of the charts on both sides of the Atlantic, becoming the longest-running song to hold that position at the time, and ending a drought of several months in which the Beatles hadn't managed to top the charts. On a personal note, it's the first Beatles song my son learned to sing, when he was just two years old. Obviously, he didn't understand the words, but he clearly babbled the first verse, and it's one of my fondest memories.

 

John's "Revolution" complements it perfectly, easily forming another double A-side. We'd already heard the White Album version, much more organic and acoustic, in a slower, bluesier format with horns, which diminished the intensity of the lyrics. Here, John keeps the same lyrics, but heeding George Martin's advice that the song was too slow for a single, they re-recorded it between July 10th and 12th, 1968. This version is a real kick-ass in comparison, maintaining the same transgressive lyrics, but with a more incisive, intoxicating, and fitting mood. John loads it with a world of fuzz, with a sharp and powerful sound from the first note, ending with a furious scream. It's as if he thought, "They said it was too soft, well, I'm going to make it damn heavy," overloading the channel. The lyrics, well, are perhaps the most political he would ever release with the Beatles. Brian Epstein had forbidden them from discussing political topics after the 1966 incidents, but after his death, and in the face of the turbulent year of 1968, John couldn't remain silent. The lyrics are brilliant, and contrary to what the title might suggest, they don't encourage a social uprising, but rather a more thoughtful, peaceful revolution. Nicky Hopkins contributes an exquisite piano solo at 1:55, aptly tempering the gasps that sound so out of place in the LP version. Furthermore, John sounds truly furious, especially during the "Alright's" in the coda. He would later retract the line about Mao, but the piece itself is enormous, with great instrumental power, and perfectly reflects Lennon's political side.

 

“Get Back” is another track from Vol. II that we had already heard on the LP, but here it appears in a different version. While with the Revolutions the differences are vast and basically only distinguishable by the lyrics, here the changes are much more subtle. The version is very similar to the studio recording, but here it has much more echo, and after the false ending at 2:30, you can hear Paul reciting, “Get back Loretta, Your mommy's waiting for you, Wearing her high-heel shoes, And her low-neck sweater, Get back home, Loretta.” John plays lead guitar and the guitar solo, while George plays only rhythm guitar. In the Let It Be version, Phil Spector mixed the master tape (recorded on January 28, 1969), which is this single, with the January 27 studio take, plus John's commentary at the end of the rooftop shot, giving the impression of a different version, although it is basically the same. If you ask me, I prefer this version of the single, produced by Martin.

 

The B-side is “Don't Let Me Down”, and in my opinion, they got the order wrong again. While on Volume I almost all the A-sides are John's, on Volume II most are Paul's, not always successfully. “Don't Let Me Down” is one of the best and most heartfelt songs in the quartet's entire catalog. Lennon gives one of his most emotional performances, pouring his heart and soul into the choruses and singing almost confessionally during the verses. Paul sounds spectacular, the main figure with that bouncy, precise bass that's very difficult to imitate. Billy Preston also shines with sublime keyboard work, adding elegant touches and a lot of personality. Meanwhile, George delivers some superb figures with the descending scales in counterpoint during the verses (“ooh she do me, yes she does”), in addition to that epic intro that makes you vibrate as soon as you hear it. The lyrics are incredible, with John approaching the level of Plastic Ono. Paul would say that Lennon was basically showing an unusual level of vulnerability, begging Yoko not to let him down as he believed everyone who loved him had. Here, he displays vestiges of the "Primal Scream" sound he would later use on his first (serious) solo album. This take was recorded on January 28, 1969, and they would play it at the legendary rooftop concert two days later.

 

“The Ballad of John and Yoko” was written by… Well, do I need to say? The interesting thing about this song is that John and Paul played all the instruments. It was recorded on April 14, 1969, when George was on vacation and Ringo was filming the movie The Magic Christian. John played it at Paul's house that morning, and they decided not to wait for the others to finish so they could record it that same afternoon. Lennon plays guitar, including lead guitar, and percussion. McCartney plays bass, drums, maracas, piano, and sings harmonies. Paul knew that people were attacking John for his relationship with Yoko, and all the talk about sleeping together and protests and all that, so he insisted it was a great song and gave it his full support, in an attempt at camaraderie. The song actually tells the whole story of his relationship with Yoko, which was condemned by public opinion from the very beginning. It's very personal, and it recounts details of how Peter Brown, another figure in the Beatles' inner circle, from the legal side, though not as trusted as Neil Aspinall or Mal Evans, recommended he get married in Gibraltar to avoid the pandemonium that had erupted at Paul's wedding to Linda a few weeks earlier. And then there were the infamous Bed-Ins in Amsterdam, and Bagism, and the honeymoon interviews, and the recording of "Give Peace a Chance" in bed, and all that. The truth is, the chorus is very harsh, but it reflected how John felt.

 

“Christ you know it ain't easy

You know how hard it can be

The way things are going

“They're going to crucify me”

 

The song has a good rhythm, no doubt, but it gets a bit repetitive, and it lacks the resources that the other two could have brought. Incidentally, Harrison and Starr didn't take it well at all, but in the end, Paul convinced them to release it as the A-side, because John had been complaining for a while that McCartney was hogging all the attention lately. The release calmed him down somewhat, and he stopped threatening to leave the band, at least for a while. The strangest thing of all is that the single reached number one in the UK, becoming the last single by the group to achieve that feat.

 

Its B-side is “Old Brown Shoe”, a George song that, in my opinion, is superior to the A-side, which speaks volumes about Harrison in every way. George started writing it on the piano, working out the chord progression, even though he wasn't very skilled at the instrument. The song has a great rhythm, and no single instrument dominates. George plays that superb slide guitar and the Hammond organ… and, surprise!, he's also the one who plays the masterful bass line. Later, he would say that he played the bass in a somewhat frenetic way, but the truth is, it's incredible, with tremendous speed, laying the foundation for the entire song. Paul played the piano, which stands out at the beginning. Ringo played the drums, and John was relegated to backing vocals, perhaps in retaliation for “The Ballad.” The solo at 1:35 is incredibly well-crafted, short, but compared by many to Clapton's style at the time. The song was recorded during the Abbey Road sessions, but John would later say that he insisted on using it as the B-side of the single. One of the most underrated songs in the quartet's catalog.

 

Next up is “Across the Universe”, which we know best from its version on Let It Be. John wrote the song in early 1968 after an argument with Cynthia. He was angry in bed when the phrase “Pools of sorrow, waves of joy” popped into his head and kept running through his mind. He went to the wicker chair where some of the greatest songs in history were created and decided to write a philosophical song instead of an angry one. However, “Nothing's gonna change my world” was a kind of subtle jab at his then-wife. It would be the last track he recorded, between February 4th and 8th, 1968, before embarking on his adventure in India. He wasn't happy with the final version, and it was left off the White Album and shelved. In 1969, the song was donated for a benefit album for the World Wildlife Fund. This version, featuring zither and reversed recordings, had bird sounds added and was sped up slightly, raised by a half step. The album version, produced by Spector, used the original masters and added a choir and orchestra. John expressed dissatisfaction with both versions due to the changes made without his consent. Personally, and as an exception, I believe the album version is superior, even with Spector's backing vocals. This version, therefore, wasn't even released as a single, but rather on the WWF album, making it a true rarity. As a side note, in 2008, NASA transmitted "Across the Universe" towards Polaris. I don't know which of the two versions they broadcast.

 

“Let It Be” was the last single released by the Beatles, spearheading the LP of the same name, on March 6, 1970. We all know that Paul wrote it about his mother, not the Virgin Mary. I won't delve into those details. This version was recorded on March 6, 1970, as part of the Get Back sessions. Produced by Martin, it doesn't differ too much from the album version, as it also includes orchestras, albeit at a lower volume, and Billy Preston's keyboards. However, this is Linda McCartney's only collaboration on a Beatles song. And of course, the biggest difference is George's solo, which loses a lot compared to that orgasmic guitar solo on the LP. What's not widely known is that the original idea was to include both solos in this version, playing simultaneously. That's why Harrison doesn't seem to put in much effort here, starting in lower tones to create contrast, but losing emotional impact. It seems that the final result of superimposing them was not what he expected, and only the recording of the 6th remained.

 

The album closes weakly with “You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)”, the B-side to “Let It Be,” and perhaps the strangest song ever released as a Beatles single. The track had been recorded back in 1967, after the recording of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, when the band would get together to jam in the studio without the pressure of an album. John arrived one day with an idea for a song. When Paul asked him for the lyrics, he simply showed him a piece of paper that read “You Know My Name (Look Up The Number),” taken from the slogan in the London telephone directory, “You have their name? Look up their number.” So the song is a jam of more than four minutes repeating this phrase in a variety of ways. Brian Jones was visiting that day and was asked if he wanted to play something. At that time, he was trying to master the saxophone, so he saw one in a corner and didn't hesitate, playing the most memorable part of the song. It was originally going to be released as a single with the even more bizarre “What's The New Mary Jane?” But the idea was scrapped (thankfully). The song was shelved until, having to release "Let It Be" as a single and finding it impossible to reunite the four members in the studio in 1970, they used it as a last resort. Some say it's an avant-garde track, showing the influence of Frank Zappa… the truth is, it's just a jam, a Lennon-esque joke that perhaps wasn't even intended for release, and as such, it clashes with the level of the other songs. But I insist, the merit of the Past Masters isn't in being perfect, but in showing us versions we would otherwise never have heard.

 

 

In short, the album is an incredible retrospective of the group's mature period, featuring some of their most iconic songs, and even the more average tracks sound devilishly solid. Although, like Vol. I, it includes familiar songs from the LPs, the versions differ enough to make them, at the very least, interesting. The mood here is different, not as cohesive as the first album, but rather we can more clearly see the different stages they were going through, from the exquisite pop of Rubber Soul, the psychedelia of Revolver, jumping to the transition from Sgt. Pepper's to the White Album, the songs they would play on the Rooftop, and the subsequent fracturing. It is, therefore, an endearing album, a must-have for die-hard fans. The albums, as a whole, are perhaps the best way to begin discovering the Beatles before diving into each album individually, although, of course, one cannot predict how the magic of the Fab Four will affect them. There would still be essential tracks missing, rarities, alternate takes, but overall, it's material that never saw the light of day and wasn't meant to. The albums greatly complete the songs that were missing from the Beatles' core catalog. Seven years later, for completists, a collection of these rarities would be released in the three enormous volumes called Anthologies, but that's another story…

​​

By Corvan

Dec/31/2016

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