Welcome to Track Chatter, where we choose a different song
to discuss in depth. This entry is part of an ongoing series in which we
reconsider songs by The Beatles. Can anything new be said about this band or
its music? Have a look below and let us know what you think.
Aaron: As is well
known by even most casual Beatles’ fans, Abbey
Road is actually the last album the band recorded, although its release was
followed by the (mostly) previously recorded Let It Be in 1970. As this project is considering songs from album
to album, we’ll stick to release dates rather than recording dates and consider
an Abbey Road track first. However,
it’s worth mentioning the recording order if only because it was during the
recording of Let It Be that the band
reached their nadir as a functioning unit and almost broke up on several
occasions (potentially denying us Abbey
Road). The irony of the situation is that Let It Be was supposed to see the band regrouping after the
fractured recording experience of The
White Album – a back-to-basics affair via which the lads would recapture
the joy of recording and just plain rocking out. As we’ll likely discuss in our
entry on Let It Be, that’s not what
happened. The sessions were caustic, the production was a shambles, and the
music was shelved. Abbey Road instead
became the back-to-basics album that the band was after. George Martin, after
something of a hiatus during the Let It
Be sessions, only agreed to return if he could be in charge, to which the
band was happy to acquiesce. And while the entirety of the recording stretched
out between January and September of 1969, most of the album was recorded
during the month of July, with Martin and longtime engineer Geoff Emerick at
the helm and the band mostly working together again like they rarely had in
years.
The process proved fruitful and Abbey Road is generally considered one of the band’s best overall
albums. It manages to capture the sounds and vibes of the late ‘60s rock scene
while remaining undeniably a record by The Beatles. Side One is practically a
late-era Beatles’ hit parade with tracks like “Come Together,” “Something,” and
“Oh! Darling,” whereas Side Two consists mainly of the famous and famously
experimental medley – eight songs spread out over sixteen minutes, all
seamlessly interwoven (in part by some of McCartney’s most free-wheeling and .
. . imaginative bass playing). And then comes one of rock’s first “hidden
tracks,” as “Her Majesty” followed fourteen seconds of silence and was not
originally listed on the US or UK albums or album sleeves.
Choosing a track from amongst all this that would qualify as
“lesser known” proved pretty much impossible, so we decided to follow that path
that we took with Help! and pick what
is perhaps the best-known track on the album, and one of the best known from
amongst the band’s entire catalogue, George Harrison’s “Something.” It’s the
song that Frank Sinatra famously called the “best love song ever written.”
In Revolution in the Head, Ian MacDonald
calls it the “acme” of George Harrison’s career as a songwriter and claims of
the song, “if McCartney wasn’t jealous, he should have been.”
There’s a lot to unpack there, Lew, so I’ll just toss out a
few general questions and you can tackle them (or not) in any way you want. Is
“Something” such a great song? It’s the second most recorded Beatles’ song
after “Yesterday” – does that tell us anything about its place in the band’s
canon (or even in Harrison’s canon)? And, to return to a question we’ve revisited
throughout the series, does it hold up?
Lew: Well, I’m
going to say immediately that I think “Something” is a great song. On pretty
much any level you care to name, it’s a very well-composed love song (I guess I'm with Frank on that). I think the question about its place
in The Beatles’ canon is a slightly more difficult one, because I think
that George still doesn’t get his due with some Lennon/McCartney fans.
With that said, I think it’s a generally more interesting song than "Yesterday."
That may be a debatable point - you could probably make the case that it doesn’t
have the pastoral elegance of “Yesterday” – but on the other hand, it’s got a
really fascinating demonstration of voice leading in the chord progression
and a strong ensemble performance by The Beatles, not to mention a great
set of lyrics that do a remarkable job of saying a lot with very little.
As to whether or not it holds up, I think it absolutely
does. In fact, I’m not sure that the lessons in songcraft that one could take
away from “Something” have really been properly absorbed by the pop music
that followed it.
Aaron: That’s
quite a statement, considering the song is forty years old. But there’s
certainly something to the way Harrison writes about love here that would seem
to elude most songwriters. For me, it’s the way he combines a really stirring
emotional performance with a set of lyrics that are highly ambiguous – which,
as you mention, say a lot with a little. I guess it’s worth pointing out that
it’s pretty well accepted that Harrison got the idea for the song and copped
the first line from James Taylor’s “Something in the Way She Moves.”
Unbeknownst to me before this project, Taylor was one of Apple Records’
earliest recording artists (and the first American to put out an album on the
label). While The Beatles were recording The
White Album, George was already working on the song that would become
“Something.” At the same time, Taylor was recording his self-titled debut
album, and George grabbed the line “Something in the way she moves,”
apparently, at first, as a placeholder lyric, but he went ahead and kept it. I
wouldn’t want to spend too much time comparing the two songs, but the approach
the two songwriters took to the idea couldn’t have been more different. Taylor
spends most of his song (which isn’t half bad) explaining all the different
“somethings” that the object of the song does (the way she speaks, looks his
way, etc.), and it builds to a chorus that could be considered a bit
underwhelmed: “I feel fine every time she’s with me” . . .
Harrison, on the other hand, takes a more elusive approach.
The object of his song remains somewhat hazy and harder to pin down. This finds
its fruition in the incredibly ambiguous chorus, “You’re asking me will my love
grow. I don’t know, I don’t know.” It was that line that I first took a shine
to when I began to realize how good this song was. As a kid, “Something” had
never really impressed me, keeping company, as it did, with songs like “Come
Together,” “Oh! Darling,” and the sillier tracks of Side One, not to mention
the Side Two suite. But I can still remember clearly sitting in my house on a
sunny day with the album playing quite loud and suddenly being amazed that he
would sing “I don’t know” with such emotion in a supposed love song. Isn’t the
point of such songs to know damned well? To be sure?
Is it the lyrics or something else you think hasn’t been
“properly absorbed” by pop music?
Lew: I think that
in, a lot of respects, it’s the total package that seems like it’s still ahead
of its time. If I pick out specific things, I guess the first things I think of
are musical. For example, the guitar melody that bridges the transitions into
verses and choruses – it’s a simple but effective ascending figure that resolves
into the first chord of whichever section is coming next. It’s very cool in and
of itself, but it’s also interesting to juxtapose it against the movement
that’s happening in the verses (and the chorus to a lesser extent), which is
generally connected by a descending voice. I can’t say for sure whether it’s
completely intentional, but regardless, it’s a great detail that provides an
overall contour to the song. I can’t help feeling that it’s an unusual level of
detail for a pop song – it’s not just evocative or beautiful; it’s also pretty
neat (hopefully that's not a bad word to use – I'm flashing back to Truth or
Dare).
To your point about the lyrics, I’d call that another great use of
juxtaposition (maybe that’s even a little obvious to say). How can the chorus
be so uncertain, while the verses end with a statement of renewed belief? Is he
unsure that his feelings will be reciprocated, or is he saying that his current
infatuation might be momentary? I really have no idea.
Aaron: It’s
interesting that you would say you’re not sure if the song’s structure is
“intentional” or not. I know that artists can happen upon moments – a line of
dialogue, a specific shading, even a dramatic incident – that were not
originally planned; I guess that’s part of what inspiration is, in a
way. But by the time he wrote “Something,” Harrison had been a professional
guitarist for over ten years and had been working hard on his songwriting for
at least six or seven. In addition to the inspiration he got from Lennon/McCartney,
he’d also, at this point, been playing a lot with Eric Clapton and had been on
tour with Delaney and Bonnie and all the musicians who made up their “friends.”
So I wonder if his approach to songwriting might not have been based at least
as much on discipline as on inspiration.
I’d love to hear a bit more about why you think parts of the
song’s structure might have been less than intentional, if only because I’m
really intrigued by instances of art where different aspects compliment each
other and fuel each other. It might be camera framing or editing and narrative
in a film, or it might be something like chapter structure and character
development in a novel. In a song, it’s almost always word and music, and in
the best pop songs there is almost always some type of dialogic relationship
between the two. But I really like what you point out about the juxtaposing of
the ascending and descending and the way it’s mirrored by the juxtaposing of
the certainty and uncertainty of the verse and chorus. I’d like to think George
constructed the song with such a relationship in mind because it seems so
organic. In the end, I guess it doesn’t matter how he came up with it, but
rather that it works. But if you had any other thoughts about where it all might
have come from, I’d love to hear them.
Lew: I guess I’d
say a couple of things about that. One, that I agree that it really doesn’t
matter what George’s intention was, as long as the song works (it obviously
does). However, I also want to add that it’s not that I think that the
structure of the song is incidental, per se. I’m sure that he wrote the parts
deliberately. I guess I’m more wondering about the possible differences in
perspective from the
person who wrote the song to listeners who have the benefit of a fair amount of
distance from the piece. Which again is not a definitive statement, but more a
question about the kinds of structures that an artist might be looking at, as
opposed to a viewer/listener. In some instances, they’re probably the same, or
at least similar – I’d say the filmic examples that you alluded to are apt to
be completely deliberate because they involve technology and people to
successfully generate them, as well as a director to coordinate those
resources.
I think that the final product of musical creation can be
less clear to the composer, for a couple of reasons. One, because I tend to
think that the final product of a recording session is often a little removed
from the musicians themselves, but also because the process of fitting chords,
melodies and lyrics together is its own kind of discipline that doesn’t
require the same kind of distance from the process. There are structural
details there that have nothing to do with a longer view of what you’re working
on, not to mention that in rock music you often have other musicians writing
their own parts and potentially muddying the waters of your initial vision. I’m
not sure that writing a good rock song necessarily requires, or even always allows,
one to look at the entire arc of the piece in the way that a movie might. Of
course, that might be my own particular hang up – I can’t be sure. Regardless,
all that is not to say that I think that George Harrison was definitely unaware
of those details when he wrote “Something.” If he did it on purpose, I’m happy
to give him credit for it. I’m just trying to be sensitive to the fact that it
might be possible for me to find something unintended in the song by virtue of my
own perspective and the years that I’ve spent listening to the song.
Aaron: I’ll put
the film comparison aside for now, except to say that even with the (sometimes)
more rigorous planning that goes into making a film, I think it’s likely that
there’s as much room for . . . accidental . . . discovery in that process as in
the creation or construction of any other art form. And with lots of artists
involved (cinematographers, set designers, actors, etc.), perhaps just as much
chance for “muddying the waters.”
But the point you raise of how Harrison may have arrived at this
dynamic with “Something” is, I think fascinating. We’ve talked a fair bit in
this series about The Beatles’ songwriting process – how they worked with each
other, where their inspiration came from, and so on – but as this series winds
down, I think it’s worth saying a thing or two about how open they were to
instances of accidental discovery, or even the random events that might occur
during the writing or recording process. An example might be the way John heard
feedback coming from an amp, liked the sound, and so insisted they include it
on the recording of “I Feel Fine.” Or the way George became fascinated with the
sitar and the rest of the band were open to using it in various ways on their
next few albums.
In a sense, that openness to exploring and exploiting the
random is one of the most intriguing aspects of their approach to songwriting.
And even if “Something,” on its surface, doesn’t appear to be as experimental
as “Tomorrow Never Knows” or “Within You Without You,” that approach might be
there in the potentially unintended ways in which the song’s structure and
lyrics play off each other. And to return to talking more directly about the
song itself, that experimental, open approach to songwriting is certainly there
in Harrison’s lyrics and the way they turn a simple idea (there’s just
something about her) into something more elusive about the nature of love
between two people and how difficult it is to describe that nature in words.
Lew: I think
that’s a good observation. In large part, I’d say that a good deal of The
Beatles’ songwriting is experimental (leaving aside more deliberately written
songs like “Dizzy Miss Lizzy” or “One After 909”). I guess one might make the
argument that the kind of experimentation in which they seem to be almost constantly
engaged is a by-product of working in a medium that didn’t get a lot of
(initial) respect from the critical world. I’m sure they were aware of their status
as highly successful celebrities who were nevertheless counter-cultural on
another level. It’s possible that the position of being marginalized by the
musical intelligentsia gave them a kind of freedom. That said, by the time they
made Abbey Road they certainly didn’t
need anyone’s approval or disapproval to do whatever they wanted, and I doubt
George Harrison was working from a reactionary place when he wrote “Something.”
Of course, as you pointed out, “Something” isn’t as challenging a listen as
“Tomorrow Never Knows” or “Within You Without You.” It's not even as
challenging as “I Want You (She's So Heavy)” or the “You Never Give Me Your
Money” suite of idea on side two of Abbey Road. A good
part of its experimental nature is well beneath the surface – the broader arc
of the song that we’ve been talking about, and certainly the ambiguity of the
lyrics, which don’t do much to overtly challenge one’s conceptions of the world
or love, but somehow create a larger meaning in the void between what’s said
and what’s implied.
Aaron: I like
that, “the void between what’s said and what’s implied.” I guess that’s one of
the things about the song that hit me once it finally did hit me. In that
sense, although its surface might lead one to believe it’s a far less
“experimental” track than many others on Abbey
Road, it’s also a song that lingers much longer – with me anyway. I’ll
never stop admiring the audacity and sheer brilliance of the Side Two suite or
the heaviness of some of Lennon’s stuff on the album – in fact I love
everything about Abbey Road
(including “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”!) – but “Something” really has come to be
almost mythically good for me, a song that’s so much greater than the sum of
its parts that, well, it’s actually been a lot more difficult to write about
than I initially thought.
Lew: Yes, well, I
guess that’s one of the things about a song where a good part of what you take
from it is content that’s not explicitly stated in the song itself. Although it’s
possibly safe to say that “Something” is meant to represent the excitement and
uncertainty of a relationship in its early stages, even that’s not a complete
given. That said, I think it’s a much more concise statement than a lot of the
other songs on Abbey Road. Although I’ve
always loved the album as a whole, I think it’s tough to argue that it doesn't
come across as a pretty fragmentary affair, with even the suite on side two
being closer to a very smart marriage of disparate, underdeveloped ideas than a
deliberate long-form piece. In that respect, “Something” is a good example of
Harrison as a songwriter on the rise, and the band itself coming closer to
dissolution.
Coming soon: Okay, okay, we'll talk about Gotye, also new songs from Smashing Pumpkins and Fiona Apple, and we get to the last of our Beatles' songs.
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