The Beatles
Revolver

From Earth to the sky in eight months. December 1965: the pleasant (but nothing more) "Rubber Soul" is released; August 1966: "Revolver" comes out, perhaps the greatest masterpiece of psychedelic pop-rock ever. A giant leap in the literal sense of the term, which, to our knowledge, has no equal in the history of popular music and perhaps music in general.

Critics have tried to understand this incredible growth and found the answers using interviews with the protagonists: on one hand, LSD (which the Beatles, especially John Lennon, started using massively from December 1965); on the other hand, the new equipment developed at Abbey Road (limiters, compressors, Leslie speakers, ADT, reversed tapes).

When "Revolver" hit the stores, the masters of psychedelia were left speechless by its creative and sonic inventions and listened to it tirelessly, trying to grasp and reproduce its secrets. Beyond the exaggerations of so many critics, we are faced with an indisputable fact: "Revolver" is a true paradigm shift. An album that inspired many groups of a much higher level than the Beatles.

To talk about "Revolver," we start with the single "Paperback Writer/Rain" released in the Spring of 1966. A single that was a surprise for the fans, and it certainly prepared them to face the listening of the real album in a less traumatic way. Disastrous sales.
On side A, we find a fairly conventional song like "Paperback Writer." The track is built on a single chord that essentially supports the melody, as in countless McCartney songs. What gives true musical value to the song is the splendid bass section that almost acts as a rhythm guitar. The choirs reveal McCartney's (never hidden) passion for the Beach Boys. Fortunately, here the choirs never fall into the excess, as those of the Californian group do. The text was written by McCartney alone (quite rare), although the result is not exceptional.
On side B there is: "Rain." A real cornerstone due to the "backward tapes." John Lennon and George Martin disputed a lot with each other, each invoking the paternity of the idea. Martin said it was his intuition, and this makes him the "fifth Beatle," as many have rightly written. Lennon instead said that one evening he came home at two in the morning, very tired, and, half asleep, he put the track in his recorder backward. The produced sound woke him from his slumber. Whoever paternity it may be, the backward tapes manage to create enchanting effects for the ear, unknown at the time. Many musicians could not believe their ears when they heard these hypnotic effects created by the guitar and the crash of the drums (which starts with an "expanded" sound and ends with a "closed" sound). Whether these dreamlike effects are those produced by acid or not is of little importance. This is music, and music that had never been heard before. Ringo's performance is excellent; here the drummer abandons himself to the song's flow, and the result is magnificent. Even more extraordinary is McCartney's performance on bass, to be listened to with the equalizer to appreciate it in all its beauty and technical mastery.

The album itself starts with "Taxman," a blues by George Harrison. A rather negligible composition, with the guitar on the right speaker merely supporting Harrison's (memorable) melody. But, as melodists, the Beatles had few rivals. What makes the song memorable is the excellent solo played by McCartney on the second speaker. After the solo (1:35), Paul begins to play the guitar like a bass, and McCartney's skill on bass is historical. The text is a collaboration between Harrison and Lennon, a very acid and unrefined "j'accuse" against the English government for its exorbitant taxes: "So it will be: one for you, ninety for me, because I am the taxman. If you say it's too little, thank that I don't take it all. (....) When you die, I'll also tax the pennies they'll put on your eyes."

Next is "Eleanor Rigby." "Revolver" didn't go down in history as one of the most influential albums for tracks like this. However, this remains one of McCartney's greatest melodic masterpieces. The song owes everything to George Martin's arrangement. The text is poignant, perhaps the best on the album. The story told is beautiful in its sadness: Eleanor Rigby alone, spending time picking rice at weddings (one of the few times to see people); Father McKenzie who has no one, mending his socks alone (an idea by Ringo Starr) and later officiating at Eleanor's funeral that no one attends.

"I'm Only Sleeping" is, beyond "Tomorrow Never Knows," the masterpiece of the album, as well as one of Lennon's greatest melodic masterpieces. Usually very flat in singing, here we see him abandon himself to remarkable melodic variations. Lennon managed to perfectly represent the torpor at the moment of waking up, the attempt to jump out of bed, and the final renunciation. A celebration of laziness, and an ironic jab at those who hustle daily, running here and there. The song, with its ups and downs, would be a masterpiece (in song form) even without its fantastic 10-second "backward" guitar solo (1:33 - 1:44). The merit of this delight is not John's genius, but Harrison's. George first played the solo normally and then listened to it backward - inspired by Lennon and/or Martin's discovery in "Rain." Six hours of work to put the notes in the right place so that the backward solo sounded as it appears on the record.

"Love You To" is by George Harrison. After the conventional "Taxman," George leaves us with a pearl of such originality, even though the sitar at the time was much less original than it might appear today. It would be worthwhile for popular music to rediscover this surprising instrument. The text is a celebration of love: let's love each other because we die soon. Banal but unimpeachable.
We return to classy pop with "Here, There, Everywhere," a typical McCartney song: compositional minimalism and maximum melodic impact. Essentially the music doesn't exist, beyond the light and delicate guitar supports in the verses, and the two small and beautiful note cascades: (1:02 - 1:05) and (1:37 - 1:40). The music is made by the perfect choir (the greatness of the Beatles in choirs cannot be underestimated) and McCartney's sweet melody.

"Yellow Submarine" is the song that made us smile and rejoice so much as children, precisely because McCartney, who wrote it, wanted to write a song for children. The Beatles wanted to give Ringo his space, so they wrote this track for him. Perhaps they didn't realize the historical value of the album, and they didn't realize that this little song (pleasurably) lowers its level. A venial sin. Sure, finding "Yellow Submarine" as the B-side of "Paperback Writer" and "Rain" instead of the yellow submarine would have been (pleasantly) better.

"She Said, She Said" is another of Lennon's triumphs, who in this album reaches the peak of his creativity. The perfect version of psychedelic rock, less hypnotic (and therefore less fascinating) than "Rain," but much more ingenious from the rhythmic (with an excellent Ringo) and guitar (with excellent Harrison) point of view. It seems the song was recorded without McCartney, who left the studio after a discussion with the others. Three Beatles were enough to bring out the jewel. The text, based on a true story that happened to Lennon in 1965 in California, seems to describe his anguish towards death and his nostalgia for childhood "when everything was fine." He would talk about the nostalgia of childhood much more insightfully, a few months later, in "Strawberry Fields."
"Good Day Sunshine" leaves you disheartened for the banality and infantilism of the text and enchanted by the work on the "treated" piano. The crescendo opening prepares us for the chorus, which is placed at the beginning, as McCartney did other times (for example, in "Can't Buy Me Love"). Here, as in "Eleanor Rigby," the credit goes again to George Martin, who this time doesn't write arrangements but actually plays the instrument, leaving a beautiful but too brief solo for posterity (0:58 - 1:05). Without Martin, it would have been just another masterpiece of melodic pop.

We return again to Lennon with "Your Bird Can Sing," another excellent guitar piece. Lennon in the 70s defined the track as "trash." John judged it so disdainfully because of the text - this yes, really trash - and for him, the text was fundamental in judging his creation. Due to the lousy text, he despised "It's Only Love," one of his best compositions with its genius stereo doubling of guitars (an electric on one speaker and an acoustic on the other). The clever guitar start gives way to the melody, then gives way again to the instrument (0:37), which supports the beautiful change. We don't know who plays the guitar, but if it's Harrison, we can say that George was an underrated guitarist and that, with the right persistence, he could have become an excellent instrumentalist. The guitar strength of the piece is enhanced by the doubling of the sound (one on one speaker and one on the other), made possible by ADT (Automatic Double Tracking), a device (perhaps invented at Abbey Road) that allows you to double voices or sounds without the need to sing or replay the section. The original version (which you can listen to in "Beatles Anthology II") used the twelve strings; a version with a less "smooth" and more "sparkling" sound.

We return again to pop with another McCartney masterpiece: "For No One." Here too, compositional minimalism for maximum melodic impact. The piano repeats its chords (interrupted in its monotony by the usual cascade of notes (0:24 - 0:38) and the beautiful French horn solo). Another Beatles track handed over forever to the annals of melodic song. A very elegant song of ended love, with him watching her as she first puts on makeup and then leaves him. McCartney has always been accused of being a sugary singer of ballads. This is certainly a ballad; but certainly not sugary.

"Doctor Robert" is another excellent piece, for its memorable "rhythmic" character from the first listen, thanks to the psychedelic guitar (Lennon's trademark on this record). Also nice is the support of arpeggiated notes when Lennon sings his "yeah-yeah-yeah." But a lot of water had passed under the bridge since the "yeah-yeah-yeah" of "She Loves You." The text seems to celebrate the person who supplied the group with LSD and amphetamines.

"I Want to Tell You" is another surprise by Harrison. The song opens with a beautiful fade in. First, the guitar strings, then the perfect tambourine to perfectly introduce the beautiful piano played by McCartney, which reaches the climax with its beautiful cascades. "I Want to Tell You" has a deep text - at least in intentions. Here George talks about how often clear thoughts in the mind come out confused from the mouth.

"Got To Get You Into My Life" was initially recorded with the organ and the hi-hat, in a slower and solemn version than the one on the record. In the end, McCartney removed thickness and added fantasy with the use of trumpets: "I wanted to do something like Motown, a black thing." The text talks about Paul's experiences with marijuana. Lennon in 1980 said: "The text is one of his best. And I didn't write the words."

And finally "Tomorrow Never Knows," the album's highest point. It all started from a reading by Lennon - "The Psychedelic Experience" by Timothy Leary - a book that celebrates the loss of ego theorized by many Eastern yogis and Christian mystics. The loss of one's pride in favor of greater internal freedom, not only from others but also from oneself and one's opinions.
After reading, John decided to transform the book into music. McCartney recalls in the Anthology VHS: "Usually we wrote songs with two or three chords and some variations. One day John brought this track all in C that struck us a lot." Inspired by this, Paul built "Paperback Writer" on a single chord.
The only indication Lennon provided for the arrangement was that he wanted the track sung by a choir of a hundred Tibetan monks. Never was a suggestion more disregarded. The song should describe the peace achieved when one gets out of oneself, and instead, it is the sound description of madness, despair, or hell itself with:

a) the obsessive drums with the "long" sound;
b) the initial sounds of vultures that are nothing but the Beatles' voices accelerated and made shrill;
c) the gloomy and haunting organ (which is actually a treated mellotron) (0:19);
d) the violins accelerated at supersonic speed (0:40);
e) the backward guitar (almost sounding like a trumpet) (1:08 - 1:26);
f) the mix of mellotron, violins, and vultures (from 2:00 to the end)

There are no adjectives to describe the greatness of this track. In our opinion, only the best tracks of "Trout Mask Replica" (like "Hair Pie: Bake 1") reach this level in the sound representation of mental illness and despair.
The piece was rightly placed at the end because in any other position, it would have overshadowed and nullified all subsequent songs.

With this track and this album, the Beatles have secured an immortal place in the history of rock.
"Revolver": pop-rock that set the standard for rock.

Some information here is taken from the site of Luca Biagini, www.Pepperland.it, which I invite you to consult for technical analyses of a much higher level.