Professional Documents
Culture Documents
( 19 68)
A
bbey Road, 1968: The Beatles are working on a new
album, which will go down in history as the White
Album. The sessions have degenerated into open
warfare. Paul is driving everyone batty with a song he’s con-
vinced is a hit, “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,” which John dismisses
as “granny music shit.” Paul lashes them through it, night after
night, trying to nail the ska offbeats. Tonight he announces
a change in plan—after a week of “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,”
he’s decided to scrap what they’ve taped so far and start from
scratch. John storms out in a fit. He reappears a few hours
later, making a surprise entrance through the upstairs studio
door, screaming at the band from the top of the stairs.
“I AM FUCKING STONED!
“I am more stoned than you have ever been! In fact, I am
MORE STONED THAN YOU WILL EVER BE!
“And THIS is how the fucking song should go!”
He marches downstairs and lunges for the piano. Not so
John songs was A Hard Day’s Night, four years earlier.) Paul
lasted only four weeks, but it was a productive burst for him
as well. Despite smuggling in a stash for a nightly smoke, they
had considerably clearer brains.
When they regrouped back in England at the end of May,
probably relieved to be back in a more corrupt environment,
they gathered at George’s bungalow in Esher to tape demos,
on a newfangled two-track deck. John showed up with fif-
teen tunes, more than Paul (seven) or George (five). The Esher
demos are a real treasure trove; they mined it for years. Songs
that got worried to death on the album are played with a fresh
one-take campfire feel, just acoustic guitars and handclaps. A
couple of half-finished sketches got saved for the Abbey Road
medley (“Polythene Pam,” “Mean Mr. Mustard”), others for
their solo albums (Paul’s “Junk,” George’s “Not Guilty,”
John’s “Child of Nature,” later retitled “Jealous Guy”). They
sit around George’s living room, enjoying each other’s songs—
even “Honey Pie” rocks. They sound excited to hit the stu-
dio and knock something out in a few days, like they used to,
back when they had to. Nobody knows the sessions will be
an endless nightmare straining to duplicate the loose feel of
the demos. “Ob-Li-Di, Ob-La-Da” will go through 47 takes.
“Not Guilty” will require 102 takes and not even make the
album.
Despite all the solo vocals, each using the others as a back-
up group, the White Album still sounds haunted by memories
of friendship—that “dreamlike state” they could still zoom
into hearing each other sing. They translated Rishikesh into
their own style of English pagan pastoral—so many talking
animals, so many changes in the weather. One of my favorite
British songwriters, Luke Haines from the Auteurs and Black
Box Recorder, once told me in an interview that his band