So.
51 years ago tomorrow, things changed in music.
Like, for forever. For good. For very very VERY good.
Happy Anniversary, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. And I'll bet you didn't think I'd remember!
And that this masterpiece of an album isn't even the best record The Beatles ever did, well, that's pretty jarring, innit?
I for one love the outtakes from Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Maybe because I've gotten so used to the pristine studio production from an album that basically helped invent pristine studio production, it's kinda weird and kind wonderful to hear the Fabs muddling though some of the tracks while they rehearse.
Like here. With "Getting Better."
And yet. Even here in raw and unready fashion, when the music really kicks in around the :15 mark, you really can feel magic starting to happen.
Happy 51st, Good Sergeant.
Showing posts with label outtakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label outtakes. Show all posts
Friday, May 25, 2018
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Can't Buy Me Love
Posted by
Scott Peterson
It's not often I say this, but: the Beatles made a mistake.
Listening to this outtake, in fact, you can hear them make a number of mistakes. It's delightfully rough, and almost sounds like they could have been playing back in the Kaiserkeller. But beyond the lack of polish, John misses a vocal cue, Paul botches the lyrics and is reduced to ad-libbing "ba doobie doobie," and George fumbles his way through the solo. (Ringo, of course, is—no surprise—flawless.)
Still and all, three things leap out: 1) it's simply incomprehensible that the lead vocalist on this song was not the band's main vocalist, and yet it's true and 2) that the writer of this song was not the band's main songwriter, and yet that's also true.
But beyond that, the lads should've kept the Beach Boys/Motown backing vocals, perfecting them as required. Those things are sheer gold, and no other rock group ever could've just tossed them away and still walked off with their third consecutive #1 hit. This damn band is the very definition of embarrassment of riches. Can't buy them love? With their talent (and bank accounts), they could buy any damn thing they wanted.
Listening to this outtake, in fact, you can hear them make a number of mistakes. It's delightfully rough, and almost sounds like they could have been playing back in the Kaiserkeller. But beyond the lack of polish, John misses a vocal cue, Paul botches the lyrics and is reduced to ad-libbing "ba doobie doobie," and George fumbles his way through the solo. (Ringo, of course, is—no surprise—flawless.)
Still and all, three things leap out: 1) it's simply incomprehensible that the lead vocalist on this song was not the band's main vocalist, and yet it's true and 2) that the writer of this song was not the band's main songwriter, and yet that's also true.
But beyond that, the lads should've kept the Beach Boys/Motown backing vocals, perfecting them as required. Those things are sheer gold, and no other rock group ever could've just tossed them away and still walked off with their third consecutive #1 hit. This damn band is the very definition of embarrassment of riches. Can't buy them love? With their talent (and bank accounts), they could buy any damn thing they wanted.
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