Tomorrow Never Knows
This track, from 1966, features a surreal Lennon vocal which marked a
radical departure from the Beatles' previous recordings, and, in the
words of Beatles biographer Mark Lewisohn, embodied a "progressiveness
which would be the hallmark of much of their future output." George
Martin played a vital role in the realisation of John's vision of a
chorus of four thousand Tibetan monks chanting from a mountain top.
According to Sir George, this was not an unusual request coming from
Lennon, who "had an inborn dislike of his own voice which I could never
understand, as it was one of the best voices I've heard...He was always
saying to me: 'DO something with my voice! You know, put
something on it. Smother it with tomato ketchup or something. Make it
different.'" As Sir George recalls, for Tomorrow Never
Knows, John "said he wanted to hear the words but he didn't want to
hear him." The Beatles, George Martin and balance engineer Geoff
Emerick fed the vocal through the electronic circuitry of a revolving
Leslie speaker, a great innovation which achieved the effect John so
eagerly craved.
All You Need Is Love
In 1967, the BBC began to organise a live television broadcast via a
world-wide satellite link-up. The programme, with a potential global
audience estimated at half a billion, was entitled Our World,
and the Beatles were chosen as Britain's representatives. Once All
You Need Is Love was settled upon as the Beatles' musical
contribution, George Martin decided to play the basic rhythm track
through a four-track machine into Abbey Road’s Studio One, while The
Beatles overlaid vocals and instruments in a live performance,
supported by the assembled orchestra. While the lyrics of the song
underlined the theme of international unity, George Martin added an
orchestral arrangement which had the piece open with bars from the
French national anthem, La Marsellaise, and he closed the final
choruses with glimpses of Bach, Greensleeves, and Glenn Miller's
In The Mood.
I Am The Walrus
To complement John's extraordinary imagery and swirling lyrical flow
in I Am The Walrus, George Martin created an imaginative score
involving eight violins, four cellos, three horns, a clarinet and a
sixteen-voice choir in the guise of the Mike Sammes Singers. The
eight female, eight male chorus was asked to sing nonsense phrases
such as "Ho-ho-ho, hee-hee-hee, ha-ha-ha," "Oompah, oompah, stick it
up your jumper," and "Got one, got one, everybody’s got one," to
accentuate the half-dignified, half-chaotic music. Days later, during
an especially active and innovative mix session at Abbey Road Studios,
parts of Shakespeare's King Lear (Act IV, Scene VI) were fed
live into the song from a BBC radio broadcast.
In My Life
In October 1965, the poignant lyrics of In My Life were
embellished by the addition of George Martin's piano solo to the
middle of the otherwise complete track. According to Steve Turner,
when George Martin played the piece back at double-speed, to achieve a
baroque-style sound, it marked the first time that the Beatles had
deliberately tampered with tapes to create a special effect.
Yesterday
Since 1965, when this world-famous ballad was first released, there
have been as many as 2500 versions of Yesterday made, but The
Beatles' original recording involved a complex and imaginative process.
On the evening of 14 June 1965, Paul McCartney’s haunting vocal was
recorded in two solo takes, as he sang to his own acoustic guitar
accompaniment. But George Martin had a further suggestion: "Why don’t
we get some strings, a violin, a cello...perhaps we could go for a
very different sound. It sounds very nice, but perhaps it needs
something." Here began the relationship which the Beatles and their
producer would carry to greater lengths as they progressed into even
more innovative musical and recording techniques. McCartney recalls
their partnership: "He would sit at the piano and say: 'OK, now what
are the chords?' And then he'd say: 'Normal string quartet voicing
would be like this...' and I would ask for something different. My
big inclusion was the cello bit at the seventh, in the middle. George
said: 'Mozart wouldn’t have done that!'" But Martin was as receptive
to the Beatles' ideas as they were to his, and Sir George later
affectionately remarked of the "blue" cello note, "It's a minor
against a major. Paul thought of that, and I wished it had been me."
In fact, years afterwards, Paul praised George Martin's eagerness to
experiment despite his classical training: "George was very good at
breaking the rules of music. He couldn't have produced the Beatles if
he hadn't been willing to do those things." As Beatles biographer Ray
Coleman described, "for a twenty-two-year-old international pop idol to
be immersing himself in violin and cello sounds in mid-1965 was
unheard of," but Paul threw himself into the project, while George
Martin transcribed the score. And Paul autographed the musical
annotation: "'YESTERDAY,' written by Paul McCartney, Mozart and George
Martin."
A Day In The Life
This monumental piece, which served as the climax to Sgt Pepper's
Lonely Hearts Club Band, and arguably marked a pinnacle of The
Beatles' career, is a fine example of the tremendous rapport between
the band and their producer. The song originated with John, who was
inspired by curious newspaper clippings, and came to be furnished with
Paul's suitably dream-like sequence, but then a question of how to fill
the middle section of the track arose. It was Paul who eventually
suggested filling the 24-bar gap with the bizarre sounds of a symphony
orchestra gone haywire, but the translation of this idea from
imagination to reality fell to George Martin, who set about how to
encourage the classically-trained musicians to realise Paul's plans.
His instruction to each of the forty members of the orchestra involved
moving from a pre-selected note low in pitch to the highest their
respective instrument could reach, at the same time starting very
softly and finishing very loud, and all the while playing independently
of their neighbours, taking their own time to work their way up the
scales. On 10 February, 1967, in Abbey Road's Studio One, Paul and
George Martin took turns conducting the assembled orchestra, while
engineer Geoff Emerick manned the control room, to capture the classic
crescendo. The performance was recorded four times, onto each track
of a four-track tape, giving the illusion of 160 musicians in all, and
indeed accomplishing the Beatles' aims to evoke a sense of "the end of
the world."
Strawberry Fields Forever
This track originated as a gentle, dreamy number, but on composer
John's intuition was remade into a more intense piece with a George
Martin score supplying a distinctive brass and string sound. When the
new version still did not fit John's vision for the song, he posed
George Martin with a technical challenge: he preferred the first
minute of the original, lighter version, but favoured the remainder of
the second, orchestrated recording. Lennon asked him to somehow merge
the two, but as Sir George remembers, "I said it was impossible. They
were in different keys and different tempos." "Well," John replied
assuredly, "you can fix it!" Lennon's faith in his producer was not
misplaced, for, rather than having to re-record the entire piece from
scratch, George Martin found that slowing down the faster version to
match (and perhaps speeding up the slower recording, though this is
unconfirmed), also brought the two into exactly the same key.
Being For The Benefit Of Mr Kite
John's lyrics for this evocative track were taken almost verbatim from
a Victorian poster printed in 1843 to promote Pablo Fanque's Circus
Royal. To enhance the fairground atmosphere of the piece, John had
hoped to track down an authentic hand-operated steam organ, but as
none was available, George Martin saw that the desired effect would
have to be achieved by other means. He collated a tape of traditional
steam organ recordings, such as old Sousa marches, and instructed
engineer Geoff Emerick to cut the tape into sections around a foot in
length. The sixty or so fragments were flung into the air, and then
reassembled at random, as Sir George recalls: "Any that sounded too
much like the original were turned around and added backwards until
finally I arrived at a whole amalgam of carousel noises which we used
as a background 'wash' to give the impression of a circus."
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