The Beatles, Album by Album--Abbey Road

Although released as their penultimate LP, Abbey Road actually consists of the final recordings the Beatles ever made together, and as such it should be viewed as their swan song and final record. Because they scrapped George Martin on Let It Be, and were dissatisfied with the initial results of that album, they put it on the shelf, recorded and released Abbey Road, and then hooked up with Phil Spector (a controversial choice, to say the least) to release Let It Be as their final LP in 1970. That's a good album, though inconsistent. But because of it lacks George Martin, it almost doesn't feel like a real Beatles album. But more on that when I write about Let It Be next.

This certainly does feel like a Beatles album. The quintessential Beatles album, perhaps. Everyone pulls out all the stops on this, since they knew it would be their final recording. Although they had been having a tremendous amount of personal friction for their past few albums, highlighted by Yoko Ono hanging around in the studio, much to the dismay of others, and John and George complaining about Paul's inheritance of the leadership mantle and perfectionism, the group came together on Abbey Road beautifully. Out of all the Beatles' albums, this is the most perfect one. In fact, you could make a strong case that it is the most perfect pop record of all time. Abandoning the metaphysical questioning of the group's adolescence in Revolver and its burgeoning adulthood in the stylistic scope of the White Album, the group finds its maturity in the musical perfection and simplicity of Abbey Road. When I think of the Beatles, I think of Mozart, because they could find the perfect turn of musical phrase, the perfect transitions from one section to another--that perfect melody. Not one note is out of place. No one else had their grasp of musical perfection, something I equate with Wolfgang. Bob Dylan to me was always the Beethoven of pop. His music dug deeper, although lacking that clean perfection of the Beatles/Mozart. It's honestly difficult for me to choose between the two worlds, and I'm not sure if I could. But I have yet to find anyone the equal of these two.

Structurally this album is perfect as well. Everything fits into its place, and the whole would be impacted for the worse if one note was moved or omitted. Each track on the first side represents its own musical world in a unique way among Beatles albums Not only are the songs different styles--they are different landscapes altogether. Though I'm not the biggest fan of the opening "Come Together," it's hard to deny its primal swamp-groove or the psychotic lyrics that are equal parts Chuck Berry and civil rights movement. Paul's bass pops on this track, like it does on the whole album. His bass-playing is at its peak on Abbey. "Something" is an impossibly gorgeous ballad by George--what Frank Sinatra has called the greatest love song of all time--and yet that unique ambivalence towards sexual love that defines George (especially his early love songs) pops up even on his sweetest ballad: "You're asking me will my love grow?/I don't know, I don't know." George always seemed to be shrugging aside romantic love in favor of communion with a higher spiritual love. "Oh! Darling" has Paul trying his hand at a classic soul song and succeeding admirably. It has the simplicity, the intensity, and the single-mindedness that makes soul songs so great. Nothing in the world is greater than soul music at showing the power of love to make one obsessed (I'm thinking "When a Man Loves a Woman" here), just like nothing in the world shows the power of love to break one's heart and spirit like country music does. Paul absolutely nails the vocals on this. "Octopus's Garden" is the Beatles' best children's song, with beautiful ringing guitars and pseudo-comic backing vocals that just work.

"I Want You (She's So Heavy)" is one of the finest songs by the Beatles, period. It is alternatively jazzy, sexual, haunting, hypnotic, and absolutely overpowering. Paul provides a seductive bassline over-top of John's magnetic, sexual pleas. George (I'm assuming) provides a great guitar solo in the jazzy sections, which intermingle with and ultimately fail to hold off the ringing guitar arpeggios of doom. The ending is the most visceral moment I know of in the entire Beatles canon, and perhaps in all of rock music. Listening to that on headphones with the music cranked up never fails to give me goosebumps. It must be heard to be believed. And the transition from that into "Here Comes the Sun" really showcases why the Beatles are the best rock band there is. No one--and I do mean no one--could do those two songs. George delivers another beautiful classic. The key change in the middle from minor to major never fails to make me happy. It would take a soulless person to not crack a smile there. "Because," despite talking about Earth's beauty and the connection of all life, has an otherworldly quality to it. The 9-part vocal harmonies are the most sublime moments of the album. This showcases a real sense of psychedelia. Not in a getting-high, rebelling against authorities kind of way. But in the true meaning of the word, which is an altered state of mind. The connection to the world and all of its inhabitants doesn't feel cheap, but earned in the beauty and otherness of the music.

The second side of the record consists mostly of a medley of various fragments of songs that the Beatles had been working on. With Paul's guidance and George Martin's superb production that makes this the best-sounding of all Beatles records, the medley idea somehow works and creates an inspiring, beautiful end to the Beatles' career. "Sun King" starts off side 2 with a resigned, melancholy beauty. John's song gives a sense of finality and resignation to the fate of the universe, whatever that may be. Of course, John was a notoriously moody person, and this sense of resigned beauty would sometimes be contradicted in his first solo album, Plastic Ono Band, but I think the same sound is in the ending of the climactic song of that album, "God," which, more than anything else I know of, gives a sense of closure to the Beatles, although in a very sad way. David Bowie and the other glam rockers seem to have borrowed their entire careers from "Polythene Pam" and its raw, simplistic energy. The album really starts rounding itself out with the transition from the suitably dreamy "Golden Slumbers" to the choral power of "Carry That Weight," which borrows themes from Paul's mini-suite "You Never Give Me Your Money" at the end of side 1. Effortless segueways mark much of Abbey Road, but these final ones really help give a sense of closure to the Beatles catalogue. This rousing ending climaxes in the dueling guitar solos of George, John, and Paul in "The End." Just as John's final word on the Beatles is the resigned, melancholy ending of "God," Paul's is his final lines in "The End": "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." It's really hard to put it better than that. Those lines sum up the promise of the Beatles, of the 1960's, and of an entire generation. Whether that promise lives on is entirely up to the listener. John gives his answer in "God," but I think Paul would have a totally different answer. And like I said much earlier in these commentaries, Paul and John are two heads of the same coin, of the human condition. Neither one is right or wrong, but both are essential and beautiful in their own way. But I think it's fair to say by this point in their career, the Beatles were Paul's baby, and the other members' dissatisfaction with his increasingly strong role in the group, among other things, led to their destruction. The Beatles was a beautiful dream that could never last. Like the greatest poetry, the Beatles were ephemeral.

--Edward