Paul 3,2,1
Two guys standing around (sitting too, but mostly standing) intimately shooting the sh*t about Beatles records. That’s basically what this series is. And that’s not meant to reduce it. That’s a lot.
Things I wonder right off the bat:
How lucky is Rick Rubin?
Whose idea was it? Rick’s or Paul’s? (They’re both producers).
Why aren’t there ever 2 women having this conversation? I would want to be one of them. I have a lot to say.
Why is Paul chewing gum?
I know — spoiler alert(s) but don’t worry. I’m not even scratching the surface. Besides there’s no comparison to my reporting and hearing it straight from Paul’s mouth. With that…here are my favorite bits and of course, some of my own opinions:
“We were writing songs that were memorable because we had to remember them.” emoji
Someone once asked Paul to pass the salt and pepper and he thought he heard “Sergeant Pepper.”
“If the producer doesn’t notice a mistake it’s not a mistake.”
Paraphrasing this one….”If the bass part is right…it can control the band.” I wonder if Paul considered that when he agreed to be the bass player — nobody else wanted to do it. And I guess if he was going to take it on, he wanted to have as much fun as everyone else in the band so he avoided simply slapping the root and invented insane shapely melodies that complemented and contrasted.
You know what they say about lefties don’t you? They’re right brained — guided by emotions, feelings, intuition, and imagination rather than facts, logic and numbers. I’ll say. In Paul’s case that blip is as far over the to right side of his brain as humanly possible whether he’s singing or playing he’s just so ... effing FREE!
As they listen to the piccolo trumpet solo on “Penny Lane” (have you ever heard of a piccolo trumpet? Me neither!) Paul recalls how he encouraged the player to hit a note that was out of range for the instrument. But the guy hit it anyway…maybe because Paul McCartney said he believed he could?
That’s the thing. Anything was possible. It was the understood studio mantra. There was no interest in the derivative unless of course it was an obvious nod to Chuck Berry, James Jamerson, the Beach Boys or Dylan. It was an experimental environment — the antithesis of algorithm culture — a labORatory in which George Martin (they thought he was an old guy, yet he was only 30) was co-conspirator and divine enabler. He gave all of them permission. My hubby thinks other producers probably wouldn’t have done the same. George Martin realized what/he was dealing with. Abandon + curiosity + savant musicianship is surely a fertile ground for some beautiful madness.
The reason we never tire of Beatles songs is because they were so dense with texture, characters, ingredients that no matter how many times we hear them we notice something else. They were a far cry from a track being built from a loop on repeat.
Of course in the early days the songs were simple (although I could never figure out how they wrote so knowledgeably about not-getting-the-girl. I mean, really?) before they grew into the opuses: “Sun King” to “Mean Mr. Mustard” to “Polythene Pam” to “She Came in Through The Bathroom Window” all strung together without so much as a burp in between.
Paul recollects the iconic nature of the collection of notes (the chord) at the beginning of “Hard Day’s Night” — (a title that came from one of Ringo’s malapropisms or “Ringoisms”). In fact I attended a conference once where the chord’s unique layering was addressed — its specific voicing is so recognizable the law would likely see it as infringement if one tried to repurpose it.
And then there’s the very last chord in “A Day In A Life” which I had the thrill of hearing re-enacted by a formidable Abby Road studio host the day in my life that I visited Abby Road. Paul explains how he played one chord on piano #1 and then George Martin sauntered over (I embellish) and simultaneously played another chord on piano # 2. And voila. These are the very same 2 pianos and voicings:
He is guarded about his emotions, but I detected some sentimentality when recounting how it all started because he got together to write some songs with some bloke named “John.” And what that turned into.
He listens to “Maybe I’m Amazed” and I wonder how John felt when he first heard that masterpiece….or how either of them felt when their lifelong collaborator moved on (triumphantly) without them.
I’d do anything to hear Lennon 3,2,1 — Harrison 3,2,1 and Ringo (it would never be Starr or Starkey) 3,2,1. They all contributed their own genius to the body of work. No doubt their versions of history would be just as fascinating.
With all this looking back Paul realizes that he himself is a fan of the Beatles. What a beautiful place to be in the back half of ones life. So many of us look over our shoulder with regret or wish for do-overs.
Last thought (for now)…I wonder what fate had in mind when two random young boys (Paul and George) sat next to each other on a bus ride to school. Or when Pete Best got sick and Ringo filled in. Maybe fate had absolutely nothing to do with it and it was just a string of random coincidences within a 5 mile radius. But maybe it was fate…and once in a minuscule while, if just to keep us on our toes and respecting her mystery, she (thankfully) knows exactly how to manipulate those stars. 🌟
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