The Beatles Abbey Road - A mutual coming of age

How do you make a pedestrian crossing mega-famous and iconic? Well, you make four of the most famous people on the planet walk across it, take a picture, and use it as the front cover to the best album they'll ever record. Simple. Christ, if only life was as easy as that. . . . . .

The story is that The Beatles were supposed to be going to the Maldives to shoot the front cover of this 1969 classic, Abbey Road. Apparently they couldn't be arsed, so during a tea-break in recording they popped outside, crossed the road, and Bob's your uncle. The most famous album cover ever. Fuck all that travelling when you've got a pedestrain crossing outside. I write this having found out this weekend that Abbey Road Studios may soon cease to exist, which makes this review all the more poignant, not just because of The Beatles' classic album, but because of its history in general. Some of the all time classic albums have been recorded there by the likes of Pink Floyd and Kate Bush; it seems senseless that such a place is not listed. Chris Evans rightly pointed out in the press this week that The Beatles are like Shakespeare - essential to our culture and heritage as a nation, so how can Abbey Road be torn down? It would be like tearing The Bard's house down in Stratford Upon Avon. It's senseless and wrong. If Abbey Road the album isn't enough evidence to take into court then what is???

Now I'm kind of nervous about this blog. I mean, what do you say that hasn't already been said about The Beatles? The greatest band in the world for-all-time-ever-plus-a-bit-longer? The most talked about, frantically obsessed about, global phenomenon still, forty years after hanging up their boots. The answer to that is I don't know. All I can do is share my experience of growing up listening to them, sharing my every breath with their music as a soundtrack, and, in relation to this, their finest album in my opinion, my passion for their untouchable creativity. Four lads from Liverpool - a place so close to me I can smell it - who literally changed the face of the planet. It is quite unbelievable. A fairy tale nobody could ever have envisaged. A story too wild to consider telling. And yet it happened, and I'm about to document just a small part of it.

I was fourteen when I first got hold of a copy of Abbey Road. The cover was an obvious pull, although I was obsessed with George Harrison's ballad Something - once cruelly and mistakingly dubbed "my favourite Lennon / McCartney track" by Frank Sinatra when covered by Ol' Blue Eyes during a concert performance. As soon as I found out it was on this album it was a banker. However, Something is but a small part of this roller-coaster ride. Now, before I go on and break the album down I have a few things to say. Firstly, George Martin works absolute miracles on this record. If he wasn't already, this album secures him as the fifth Beatle. Secondly, McCartney's bass playing on this record is phenomenal. Again, he is seen in such a general light of greatness that his specific abilities remain often ignored, but he genuinely defines bass playing on much of this record. Totally awesome. Harrison, it must be said thirdly, contributes two of the best three songs, much to the suprise of most Lennon / McCartney fanatics. If his work had often been left in the shade before Abbey Road, it was simply impossible to ignore Something and Here Comes The Sun. Finally, I must comment on Ringo. John Lennon famously claimed that he wasn't even the best drummer in The Beatles, but boy, on Abbey Road his work is untouchable. I'd even go as far as suggesting this album would be a good listen if you listened to the drum parts alone. Well, maybe. . . . .

The album begins with the brooding Come Together, combining a genius McCartney bass line with sublimely executed drum rolls. Lennon's sneer throughout a world of almost incomprehensible lyrics provides just the controversial and warped entry that, you can certainly imagine, the fab four would have been looking for. Something somewhat calms the frenzy, and displays Harrison's underated craftsmanship. His voice is subtle and in parts beautiful, as are the impeccable harmonies by McCartney. Maxwell's Silver Hammer - arguably the only weak point on the album - is a nonsene story about a psychotic murderer, which at best is vaguely disturbing, or at worst an unwelcome distraction. I have never been a huge fan, though it pains me to say it. Oh! Darling is a song of angst, in which Paul screams his heart out for a lost love, Octopus's Garden the quirky, Ringo-penned singalong, and I Want You (She's So Heavy) a spiralling, fraught, helpless anti-love song. The madness that transpires through the tortured repetition is vital to the building atmosphere of The Beatles' most experimental record.

Here Comes The Sun - Harrison's second masterpiece on Abbey Road - wakes the listener up from the maddening longing in I Want You, placing us in a sun laden garden, relaxed, happy and optimistic. The guitar work is stunning, the harmonies unparalleled, and the melody exsquisite. The sort of song that will still be used in hundreds of years time without hesitation. Now how many songwriters can claim to have written something like that? George died on the morning of my 19th birthday - November 30th 2001 - and this was the first song I heard after discovering the news. It made me smile at a time I felt like crying.

Because, Sun King, and Golden Slumbers - all tracks on the second side - are concrete examples of Lennon / McCartney's extraordinary songwriting abilities. All are laid back, melodic and serene, providing the album with necessary but delighful breathing spaces in amongst the chaos. You Never Give Me Your Money is a three part opera, which has long been my favourite moment on the entire record. In its own way, this song set a precident for medley-style epic songs such as Bohemian Rhapsody et al. It is tongue in cheek but always sincere; an ability that The Beatles had over every other band. When McCartney sings "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven / All good children go to heaven," you can't help but believe the guy!

And then the famous medley. This, of course, is where George Martin plays his part like no other could. The combination of Mean Mr Mustard, Polythene Pam and She Came In Through The Bathroom Window is brave but brilliant. It is frantic, filled with humour, frenetic, energetic, and at all times coercive. A triumph of imagination. Carry That Weight continues the theme with verve, and The End - now a staple at the conclusion of McCartney's own solo performances - is a rousing and euphonious almost-end to a quite incredible record. Again, it could have only been The Beatles brave and silly enough to slip Her Majesty at the death - a cheeky yet enterprising laugh at The Queen's expense, though I'm sure, like everybody else, she took it in good spirits.

And so the end of a masterstroke in songwriting, playing, singing and engineering. It comes as a shattering disappointment when you hear the sound of the player grinding to a halt. Abbey Road was one of the first Beatles albums I got my hands on. I kind of did things backwards with regards to them, although if I'm brutally honest, it's the post Pepper period that interests me most anyway. Not to say, of course, that the early stuff isn't up to much - in fact, quite the opposite. I just really think the later stuff - Abbey Road being the defining moment - shows a band who were once boys turned into strong and masterful men. An aspiration I still have for myself one day. . . . . . . . .