The Beatles
Abbey Road Super Deluxe Edition
50th anniversary reissue, with bonus demos and session recordings.
In contrast to The White Album and Let It Be, Abbey Road sees The Beatles operating relatively cohesively; in step with one another, as represented on the famous cover image, as opposed to drifting off individualistically, dreaming solo dreams. Indeed, a tape has emerged of Lennon, of all Beatles, hosting a meeting with McCartney and Harrison enthusing over the prospect of a follow-up album. However, while Abbey Road is a largely fabulous album, it also shows signs of tiredness, of whimsy and of a group on the point of being sonically eclipsed by their emerging rock counterparts.
The original album, remastered by a team co-headed by George Martin’s son Giles, is presented with a freshness and immediacy that makes a mockery of the passage of half a century. George Harrison is at the summit of his powers, the temporary equal of Lennon and McCartney with Something and Here Comes The Sun possessing a light and intensity occasionally lacking elsewhere, qualities evident even on the demos here. He also brings his Moog synthesizer to bear on a number of tracks, though only as a bolt-on; the world wasn’t yet ready for synth pop.
The two CDs of sessions and demos are a revealing trove. There are genuinely funny moments, such as Lennon being informed during takes of I Want You (She’s So Heavy) that there has been a complaint from a nearby neighbour about the noise from the studio – clearly not everyone swung in the 60s. A rough but honeyed demo of Goodbye is a hint of McCartney’s solo work to come; and a run-through of Come And Get It – later a hit for Badfinger in December of ’69 – reminds of its worthiness for inclusion on Abbey Road. Ah, and there’s Paul trying to persuade Ringo to drum some life into Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, a song none of his three counterparts thought was at all fab.
It’s moving to hear The Beatles grinding and grooving as one as they do on The Long One, an early version of the medley that comprises most of side two of Abbey Road. However, on Sun King, lovely though it is, it’s oceanic stuff already navigated by Hendrix and even Fleetwood Mac, while the chimes of Carry That Weight had already been rung by Cream.
Fittingly, the sessions conclude with George Martin’s orchestra-only versions of Something and Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight, a worthy salute to the late, great producer. ■■■■■■■■■■