John Lennon tended to recede within Paul McCartney’s fantastical Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band concept. Then the Beatles’ White Album arrived on Nov. 22, 1968. Lennon was reborn within a concept that Ringo Starr said focused more on the Beatles themselves.
“Sgt. Pepper did its thing; it was the album of the decade – of the century, maybe,” Starr later argued. “It was very innovative, great songs – glad I was on it – but [on] the White Album, we ended up being more of a band again and that’s what I always love. I love being in a band.”
The stripped-down, rock-focused setting better suited Lennon. “I wasn’t interested in following up Sgt. Pepper, and I don’t know whether the others were or not – but I know what I was going for was to forget about Sgt. Pepper,” Lennon frankly admitted. “You know, ‘That was Sgt. Pepper and that’s alright, fine, it’s over’ and just get back to basic music.”
They did, and Lennon’s muse returned. Deep Beatles columnist Kit O’Toole takes us through five key White Album deep cuts that prove the point:
‘GLASS ONION’
John Lennon’s best friend from childhood, Pete Shotton, once told the story of how he composed “I Am the Walrus.” The late Beatles star had received a letter from a teenage fan who mentioned that his teacher was having the class analyze Beatles lyrics. This both annoyed and amused Lennon, who was inspired to write meaningless lyrics such as “Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog’s eye.”
Once he finished the song, Lennon turned to Shotton and said: “Let the fuckers work that one out.” In that same vein, Lennon composed the White Album track “Glass Onion” partially as a response to those who over-interpreted Beatles lyrics. That allowed the group to gently satirize their fans, but also themselves.
This riddle of a song began while the Beatles studied in India; when they arrived home, Lennon cut a demo at his Kenwood estate. In Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now, McCartney described fond memories of writing and recording the track. Lennon and McCartney worked on elements of the track at McCartney’s Cavendish Avenue home, and later Lennon completed the arrangement with George Martin.
“It was [John’s] song, his idea,” he said. “We had a fun moment when we were working on the bit, ‘I’ve got news for you all, the walrus was Paul.’ People read into our songs and little legends grew up about every item of so-called significance, so on this occasion we decided to plant one.” In reality, the line was a red herring: McCartney did not appear as a walrus either on the Magical Mystery Tour album cover or in the film.
In one of his final interviews, John Lennon dismissed “Glass Onion”: “That’s me, just doing a throwaway song, a la ‘Walrus’ a la everything I’ve ever written. I threw in the line ‘The walrus was Paul’ just to confuse everybody a bit more. It could’ve been the fox terrier is Paul, you know. I mean, it’s just a bit of poetry. It was just thrown in like that. … The line was put in because I was feeling guilty because I was with Yoko and I was leaving Paul. I was trying – I don’t know. It’s a perverse way of saying to Paul, you know, ‘Here, have this crumb, this illusion, this stroke – because I’m leaving.’”
According to Mark Lewisohn’s Complete Beatles Recording Sessions, recording began on Sept. 11, 1968 at Abbey Road. Since George Martin was on vacation, engineer Chris Thomas substituted as producer. They ran through 34 takes of the basic rhythm track, with Ringo Starr on drums and tambourine, George Harrison on guitar; Lennon on lead vocals and guitar; and McCartney on bass. Take 33 was deemed best. The next day, an additional drum track and piano part (courtesy of McCartney) were recorded.
By Sept. 16, either Lennon or McCartney devised a comedic element: flute notes echoing those from “Fool on the Hill.” Lewisohn posits that McCartney played the instrument; it was double-tracked, recorded as two overdubs, and placed on tracks six and eight. However, the Beatles were not done tinkering with the track: by Sept. 26, Lennon decided to create a four-track tape containing sound effects. Noises including a telephone ringing, one note of an organ, breaking glass, and a sample of a BBC soccer commentator screaming “It’s a goal” comprised the tape.
Upon returning from vacation and hearing the rather unusual experiment, Martin suggested adding strings instead, which were recorded as an overdub on Oct. 10. Lennon subsequently scrapped the sound effects; his original vision can be heard on Anthology 3, complete with the odd noises.
In his book From Abbey Road to Ziggy Stardust, engineer Ken Scott recalled how an initially huge mistake turned out to be one of the most distinctive facets of “Glass Onion.” He explained that he and the Beatles had recorded many snares, specifically the opening beats to the track (or the “blap, blap” as Scott terms it). They recorded this section five times; Scott stated they had overdubbed many snares making the sound to increase the impact, then mixed it down to one track.
Later in the session, Scott prepared for what should have been the final overdub: Paul McCartney and George Martin’s assistant playing recorders. “And we’re doing what was called a punch-in where we start recording after the last blap blap, so I have to play the last blap blap, then hit record and then they start playing. Well, after quite a few attempts of it being played, I wasn’t thinking quite properly and I went straight into record as opposed to play / blap blap / record – and erased the last bunch of snares. And so the last time you hear it, it’s just a solo snare – just Ringo,” he told Strange Brew.
When Lennon heard the single snare in playback, he asked Scott to rewind the tape to that section. Thinking he was about to be sacked, Scott ran back the tape. “I played it for him and he said, ‘No one would ever think of having the smallest part of the song come immediately after the biggest. I like it. We’ll keep it.'” Scott said. “So, next time you hear it you’ll notice that the last one is very different and it was just because of my cock up.”
To enhance the sound of Ringo Starr’s drums even more, tea towels were placed in the drums to create a heavy “thud” effect. Another unusual technique was used: a pack of Geoff Emerick’s favorite cigarettes, Everest, rested on the drum head.
As Starr’s snares stumble in, John Lennon gleefully refers to several Beatles conspiracy theories and pokes fun at the band’s previous recordings. He states that he has already mentioned “Strawberry Fields,” but is now introducing listeners to a new state of mind, a place “where everything flows.” He paints a picture similar to “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” in its surreal images: “Looking through the bent-backed tulips / To see how the other half live / Looking through a glass onion.”
Not surprisingly, Lennon follows these weird phrases with references to the equally abstract “I Am the Walrus.” He claims that he remains “as close as can be” to the walrus, but adds: “Here’s another clue for you all / The walrus was Paul.” Next comes a quotation from “Lady Madonna” along with an apparent reference to Liverpool (“Standing on the cast-iron shore”).
As Lennon repeats “oh yeah,” the Beatles slowly build steam behind him. While it may appear to change in key, musicologist Alan Pollack points out the illusory qualities of this section. “The chromatically rising middle voice develops your sense of expectation over the course of the pedal point, though really it’s a bit of a tease; there’s nothing in the way of harmonic ‘progression’ going on behind the building suspense,” he said.
Lennon’s scream relieves the tension, leading to a repetition of the title phrase, inviting listeners to gaze deeper into the world through the lens of the glass onion. Through this lens, John Lennon points out the fool on the hill, stressing that he is still living in this alternate universe. However, he states he can lead listeners even further into the rabbit hole with two seemingly nonsensical lines: “Fixing a hole in the ocean / Trying to make a dove-tail joint, yeah.” In the Beatles Encyclopedia, Womack posits that the last part of the lyric could refer to Lennon’s difficulty in writing the song or telling the story.
After repeating the title phrase one more time, the music drops out to reveal only the strings. They play an eerie but melancholy tune, adding to the listener’s sense of disjointedness, of aurally residing in an alternate world where nothing makes sense. Clearly, Lennon turned a satirical pen on himself and his bandmates. By slyly referencing previous Beatles songs, Lennon demonstrated that he does not take himself too seriously.
Looking through the glass onion, he plays the trickster, turning the lens on fans as well as himself. Just he did with “I Am the Walrus,” John Lennon leaves listeners to interpret his intentions.
‘YER BLUES’
Like “Julia” and “I’m So Tired” from this self-titled 1968 release, “Yer Blues” provides an instant snapshot of John Lennon’s future solo career. Its confessional style, straightforward lyrics, and naked vocals became hallmarks of 1970’s Plastic Ono Band, as did its back-to-basics sound.
No more “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite” or “Strawberry Fields Forever”: Lennon had moved on to a sparer sound, a nod to his rock ’n’ roll roots as well as a salute to the blues. While “Yer Blues” contains some of his rawest vocals, one question remains: Is the track a parody of blues clichés, or a sincere cry for help?
In 1980, Lennon told Playboy that “‘Yer Blues’ was written in India, too. Up there, trying to reach God and feeling suicidal.” Lennon first tested the song during the Esher sessions, recording a demo sounding closer to Delta blues than the final version. His voice double-tracked, Lennon sang very similar lyrics to the final version with two small differences. Here, he sings “My mother was of the earth, my father was of the sky, but I am of the universe and that’s the reason why.” The final version instead ends with the line: “… and you know what it’s worth.”
The section referring to Bob Dylan’s “Mr. Jones” (from the track “Ballad of a Thin Man”) reveals just one word change, but a significant one. In the demo, Lennon sings “I feel so insecure, just like Dylan’s Mr. Jones.” In the revised studio version, he changes the word “insecure” to “suicidal,” adding to the track’s ominous sound.
The demo could have stood on its own as a stellar example of acoustic blues, but the Beatles elected to record a full-on band version. To achieve a different effect, they recorded the basic track in Abbey Road Studio Two’s closet-sized annex, according to Kenneth Womack’s Beatles Encyclopedia. Engineer Ken Scott unintentionally provided Lennon with the venue change. “Ken Scott jokingly complained to John about all the unconventional things the group was doing in the studio,” according to Bruce Spizer’s The Beatles White Album and the Launch of Apple. “Scott remarked ‘Bloody hell, the way you lot are carrying on you’ll be wanting to record everything in the room next door!’ John thought it was a great idea and had the studio crew set up the Beatles’ amplifiers, microphones and instruments in the control room’s tiny annex.”
Indeed, the close-miked sound provides a claustrophobic feel, an expression of walls closing in, perfectly reflecting the song’s anguished lyrics. On Aug. 13, 1968, they recorded an initial “Yer Blues” take consisting of Ringo Starr on drums, Paul McCartney on bass, George Harrison on lead guitar, and Lennon on rhythm and lead guitar.
According to Mark Lewisohn’s Complete Beatles Recording Sessions, the group did 14 takes. Interestingly, between takes eight and nine, the three Beatles (McCartney had stepped out of the room) jammed, playing an instrumental piece featuring electric guitar. Lewisohn says that jam was later excised from the original tape and put onto Various Adlibs, a compilation consisting of miscellaneous tapes recorded during the White Album sessions. Ultimately the Beatles decided they liked take 14 through the end of the solos, and take six for the remainder of the song.
Next a number of reduction mixes were made, with takes 15 and 16 reductions of take six, and take 17 was a reduction of part of take 14. Finally, George Martin and Scott spliced the beginning of take 17 onto the end of take 16 (listen for the change at 3:16, where Lennon’s guide vocal can still be heard. The entirety of Lennon’s guide vocal finally emerged intact on 2018’s White Album box set; the instrumentation is also better defined on this take, particularly Paul McCartney’s bass and Ringo Starr’s drum fills.
The next day, John Lennon completed his lead vocal overdub, while McCartney added backing vocals on “girl you know the reason why” beginning at the second verse (around the 1:25 mark). According to Spizer, Lennon and McCartney thought their guitar solos could be improved, so they overdubbed two new solos, which occur at 2:28. In addition, Starr double-tracked his drum during the guitar solo. Interestingly, Lennon chose not to rerecord his vocal toward the end of take 16, instead leaving his guide vocal intact (beginning at 3:18).
By the time the Beatles returned to “Yer Blues” on Aug. 20, Harrison was on vacation in Greece. Therefore, Lennon and Starr completed work on the track, recording a very short edit piece for the begging of the song: Starr’s count-in. According to Lewisohn, this was edited onto the “best” mono remix.
Introduced by Starr’s count-in, Lennon bares his soul from the first lyric: “Yes I’m lonely / Wanna die,” he virtually screams. “If I ain’t dead already / Girl you know the reason why.” Cracks audible, Lennon’s voice instantly encourages listeners to experience his pain. In his seminal work Tell Me Why, Tim Riley specifies the instrument placement, with Lennon’s lead guitar on right and Starr’s drums to left. As in “I’m So Tired,” “the beat is tired again, Lennon’s guitar line first spicing the sound with rhythmic jabs and then falling, hanging on to the beat for dear life.”
Riley indicates two movements of the guitar solo section. “The first round of guitar solos simply rocks off the beat — it sounds warped, as though we’re hearing it from underwater. The second guitar solo (probably George) is more melodic, even though its brittle tone is tense and pinched.” Starr ends this portion of “Yer Blues” with a drum fill, signaling the last segment.
In The Beatles as Musicians: Revolver through the Anthology, Walter Everett describes the rhythm pattern as ranging from a plodding tempo to a “stop-time passage” and a “rock ‘n’ roll-inspired swing blues” and “tongue-in-cheek improvisational solos.” Everett speculates the variation in tempo may have been inspired by Yoko Ono, who criticized the predictable rhythms of “Hey Bulldog.”
Lennon’s voice can be heard faintly after the guitar solos, as if drowning in his sorrow and anger. “Lonely” and “die” can be detected most clearly; it is evident why Lennon chose to include his original guide vocals, as he accidentally underscored the depression clouding the atmosphere. “Feel so suicidal / Even hate my rock ’n’ roll!” he cries, the darkness overtaking him.
“Yer Blues” remains a classic blues jam, but one rumor persists: the track was meant to be a parody of English blues bands. In various interviews, John Lennon refused to answer the question directly but provided some clues.
Lennon likened the title to a “pun” concerning English soul music, similar to McCartney’s Rubber Soul title, during his infamous 1971 Rolling Stone interview. At the same time, Lennon seemed to downplay the notion of a definite parody. Speaking of “I’m So Tired” as well as “Yer Blues,” Lennon said “they’re pretty realistic; they were about me. They always struck me as — what is the word? funny? ironic? — that I was writing them supposedly in the presence of guru and meditating so many hours a day, writing ‘I’m So Tired’ and songs of such pain as ‘Yer Blues,’ which I meant. I was right in the Maharishi’s camp writing ‘I wanna die.’”
The title itself suggests a parody, using “yer” rather than “your.” In the Rolling Stone interview, Lennon admitted insecurity inspired the title. “We were all listening to Sleepy John Estes and all that in art school, like everybody else. But to sing it was something else. I’m self-conscious about doing it,” Lennon said. “Paul was saying, ‘Don’t call it ‘Yer Blues,’ just say it straight.’ But I was self-conscious and I went for ‘Yer Blues.’”
The title reflects Lennon’s penchant for wordplay, but what about the song itself? Author Steve Turner argues that the lyrics express genuine pain, reflective of the turmoil Lennon was then experiencing: the disintegration of his marriage, uncertainty over his career, and increasing arguments with his friends and bandmates. Turner states that “Yer Blues” was a cry for help, specifically to his new love: Ono. Spizer adds that Lennon viewed the song as “pretty realistic,” but avoided direct imitation of American blues artists.
Clearly, “Yer Blues” held personal meaning for Lennon. It was the only Beatles song he performed at two events: the Rolling Stones Rock ’n’ Roll Circus, filmed on Dec. 11, 1968; and the Toronto Rock ’n Roll Revival Concert on Sept. 13, 1969. Before its official release, Rock ’n’ Roll Circus version appeared in widely circulated bootlegs containing nine minutes of the track, with Lennon, Ono, Eric Clapton, Keith Richards, and Mitch Mitchell (drummer for Jimi Hendrix Experience) performing as the supergroup the Dirty Mac. The Toronto update surfaced as the Live Peace in Toronto 1969 album, with Lennon, Ono, Clapton, Klaus Voormann, and Alan White appearing under the “Plastic Ono Band” banner.
Anyone delivering the opening lines “yes I’m lonely / wanna die” as convincingly as Lennon would presumably not intend the track to be a complete parody. It would not be out of place on this first proper solo album, because of the confessional qualities and agony in Lennon’s voice – not unlike the “primal scream” vocals on Plastic Ono Band.
For years, John Lennon expressed the desire to re-record “Help!” to accurately reflect the original intention of the song. Perhaps “Yer Blues” can be seen as an addendum to “Help” in that it represents a cry for help, a wish to be recognized. Only Lennon could deliver such a message in a sincere — yet hard rocking — way.
‘SEXY SADIE’
Like many of the White Album’s tracks, “Sexy Sadie” dates from the Beatles time in India studying under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. During this period, rumors began circulating that the Maharishi had been seducing female devotees. (According to Paul McCartney, Alex Mardas — better known as “Magic Alex” — informed the group of the gossip.) Disenchanted, the Beatles decided to leave, with John Lennon feeling the most betrayed.
As he told Rolling Stone in 1971, “So, we went to see Maharishi, the whole gang of us, the next day, charged down to his hut, his bungalow – his very rich-looking bungalow in the mountains – and as usual, when the dirty work came, I was the spokesman – whenever the dirty work came, I actually had to be leader … and I said ‘We’re leaving.’ ‘Why?’ he asked, and all that shit and I said, ‘Well, if you’re so cosmic, you’ll know why.’”
While Lennon and George Harrison waited for ride out of Rishikesh, Lennon began jotting down lyrics to the song. “That was written just as we were leaving, waiting for our bags to be packed in the taxi that never seemed to come,” he said in Anthology. Overall, “John wrote ‘Sexy Sadie’ to get it off his chest,” McCartney added.
According to Mark Lewisohn’s Complete Beatles Recording Sessions, Lennon’s original lyrics seethed with anger: “Maharishi, you little twat, who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are? Oh, you cunt.” In one of his final interviews, Lennon admitted: “I was just using the situation to write a song, rather calculatingly but also to express what I felt. I was leaving the Maharishi with a bad taste. You know, it seems that my partings are always not as nice as I’d like them to be.”
In Many Years From Now, McCartney told author Barry Miles that he believed Lennon’s anger toward the Maharishi was unwarranted. “Perhaps [the other Beatles] had been looking for something more than a guy and found he wasn’t a god, whereas I’d been looking at a guy who was saying, ‘I’m only giving you a system of meditation,’” he said. According to McCartney, Lennon originally titled the song “Maharishi,” even using the name in the lyrics (“Maharishi, what have you done?”).
Harrison and McCartney persuaded Lennon to drop the name; to maintain the rhythm, Lennon changed the title to “Sexy Sadie.” In retrospect, McCartney stated, they had heard rumors about the guru from Magic Alex — not the most reliable of sources. Altering the name to protect the innocent was a wise move.
An interesting relic of the original lyrics still exists: After returning from Rishikesh, Lennon carved the “Maharishi” version into a piece of wood, the words “the private mind of John Lennon” inscribed at the top. According to NME, Ringo Starr’s first wife Maureen subsequently owned the wood; a collector later acquired it, and the memorabilia finally hit the auction block on Sept. 23, 2013.
Another figure greatly influenced “Sexy Sadie”: Smokey Robinson. In later years, it was revealed that Lennon was a fan of Robinson and the Miracles’ “I’ve Been Good to You,” a 1961 single he enjoyed playing on his personal jukebox. The opening lines of the song – “Look what you’ve done; You’ve made a fool of everyone” – directly inspired the opening verses of “Sexy Sadie,” according to Jonathan Cott’s book Days That I’ll Remember. “Smokey Robinson has the most perfect voice,” Lennon told Cott. “A beautiful piece. … I go wild every time I hear it.”
After recording an early version of “Sexy Sadie” as part of the Esher demos — Lennon brought the song to Abbey Road on July 19, 1968. The Beatles recorded 21 takes of the track, with take six later released as part of the Anthology 3 collection. This version featured vocals by John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison; electric guitar by Harrison; drums by Ringo Starr; and Hammond organ by Lennon. The Beatles returned to the track on July 24, recording 23 takes.
Dissatisfied with those attempts, they tried to master “Sexy Sadie” once more on Aug. 13. They completed eight more takes; the final take (labeled 107, counting all previous attempts) was chosen as best. They completed all overdubs on Aug. 21, with Lennon rerecording his lead vocal. Organ, bass (courtesy of McCartney), piano, tambourine, and all backing vocals were also laid down.
The distorted, delayed piano (an effect similar to Phil Spector’s production on Imagine) creates an unsettled atmosphere, intensified by the swirling background vocals that sound as if they were recorded underwater. Harrison’s lead guitar slithers through the track, adding bite to Lennon’s bitter words. “Sexy Sadie you’ll get yours yet – however big you think you are,” Lennon snarls, his anger palpable. One can hear how John Lennon felt betrayed by his onetime guru: “You gave her everything you owned just to sit at her table. Just a smile would lighten everything,” he complains.
Interestingly he changes the sex of this charlatan, suggesting that this character used sexuality to seduce. “She came along to turn on everyone. Sexy Sadie, the greatest of them all,” he admits, clearly stating that he had fallen under this figure’s spell.
The Maharishi’s alleged sin – seducing female followers — can be inferred from the lyrics, along with his apparent charisma. Sexy Sadie chiefly relied on feminine wiles and sexuality to lure apparently unsuspecting men. Similarly, Lennon seemingly argues, the Maharishi lured followers with power and personality.
Was the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi guilty? The answer may be lost in the mists of time, but the question did inspire one of John Lennon’s most bitter compositions. Its reverberating sound foreshadows the Spector and Lennon collaborations of the late 1960s and 1970s, and Lennon would continue weaving stories of eccentric characters in tracks such as “Polythene Pam.”
As a postscript, George Harrison clearly disagreed with Lennon’s feelings toward the Maharishi, as he recorded not one but two response tracks. He originally wrote “Not Guilty” for the White Album (the Beatles recorded more than 100 takes, with take 102 surfacing on Anthology 3), but eventually rerecorded it for 1979’s George Harrison: “Not guilty, for leading you astray on the road to Mandalay,” he sings, vaguely referring to the Beatles’ sojourn.
On 1974’s Dark Horse, the telling track “Simply Shady” parodies Lennon’s song: “You may think of Sexy Sadie, let her in through your front door – and your life won’t be so easy anymore,” Harrison sings, demonstrating he had never forgotten the events behind Lennon’s composition.
‘EVERYBODY’S GOT SOMETHING TO HIDE’
Would the White Album have been stronger as a single-disc work? Was it as fragmented and disjointed as critics then claimed? As Paul McCartney exclaimed in the Anthology documentary, “I mean, it’s great, it sold, it’s the bloody Beatles’ White Album! So shut up!”
Initially, music critics like Nik Cohn of the New York Times dismissed it as “boring beyond belief,” calling half the songs as “profound mediocrities.” Today, outlets like Rolling Stone have reassessed the White Album’s seemingly erratic feel, arguing that context is key to appreciating the work. Regardless of various opinions on the album’s consistency and overall quality, most listeners agree that The Beatles contains some deeply spiritual and self-reflective moments, and at times rocks hard.
A perfect example of the playful and sometimes rougher sound of some tracks is “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey.” Its meaning remains vague: Does “monkey” refer to drug addiction, or a term used by their spiritual guru the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi? No matter the interpretation, the track soars with Lennon’s screaming vocals and piercing lead guitar as well as McCartney’s furious bass playing.
Principal songwriter Lennon composed the track in 1968; according to George Harrison, the Beatles’ time studying under the Maharishi partially inspired the song’s title. “Everybody’s got something to hide” was the spiritual guru’s frequent mantra, but Harrison once stated that he never knew what “except for me and my monkey” signified. In 1980, Lennon explained that the phrase referred to his blooming romance with Yoko Ono.
“Everybody seemed to be paranoid except for us two, who were in the glow of love. Everything is clear and open when you’re in love,” he said. “Everybody was sort of tense around us – you know, ‘What is SHE doing here at the session? Why is she with him?’ All this sort of madness is going on around us, because we just happened to want to be together all the time.”
However, McCartney posited a different scenario in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now. During the White Album period, Lennon began experimenting with harder drugs, particularly heroin. “Now John started talking about fixes and monkeys and it was a harder terminology which the rest of us weren’t into. We were disappointed that he was getting into heroin because we didn’t really see how we could help him,” he said. “We just hoped it wouldn’t go too far. In actual fact, he did end up clean but this was the period when he was on it. It was a tough period for John, but often that adversity and that craziness can lead to good art, as I think it did in this case.” Lennon always denied this interpretation, although lyrics such as “the deeper you go, the higher you fly” could be read as a drug reference.
No matter how the track is analyzed, its beginnings derive from the Beatles’ time in Rishikesh, India. While studying Transcendental Meditation from February until approximately April 1968, they also composed an astounding number of songs, only some of which made it onto the White Album. When they regrouped in London that May, all four came bearing notebooks chock full of these tracks, and they began recording demos at Harrison’s Esher bungalow. As is evident in the original demo, the as-yet-untitled song originated as a slower, acoustic-driven track. The lyrics were also in their infancy, often filled with “come ons”; this was a typical feature of Lennon’s early song drafts. He would fill still blank verses with repeated phrases or nonsense syllables.
Recording on “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide” commenced on June 26, 1968, although these initial sessions consisted of rehearsals. The next day they recorded six takes of the track; on the last take, they overdubbed two lead guitars, bells, and shaker. According to the Beatles Bible, a “reduction mix to free up spare tracks also resulted in the song being sped up from 3’07” to 2’29”; it would end up faster still following a later mix.” The reduced mix resulted in speeding up the tempo and changing the key in addition to shortening the track’s length. Refinements on take eight continued on July 1, when McCartney recorded an additional bass guitar part and Lennon laid down new lead vocals. By July 23, more backing vocals, the “come on, come on” ending, handclaps, and another bass part were all recorded.
Two more reduction mixes were made, which now made the latest version take 10. According to the Beatles Bible, these reductions made room for Lennon to redo his vocals. This take thus replaced his vocals recorded on July 1. Two more reduction mixes were made (takes 11 and 12), Lennon laid down another vocal track and more shouting, handclaps, another McCartney bass part, and additional percussion by Ringo Starr completed the session. Once these tasks were completed, “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide” was mixed for mono, followed by the stereo mix on Oct. 12.
Technical details aside, what makes “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide” stand out? From the first thud of Starr’s drums, the raucous tone immediately grabs the listener by the collar. After a brief, slower start, the band kicks into high gear by rapidly accelerating the tempo. “Come on, come on – come on is such a joy,” Lennon almost shouts, raspiness coloring his voice. “Take it easy!” he cries, the rhythm pattern changing once again. After delivering the chorus, Lennon’s guitar pierces through the noise, signaling another change in the track. “The deeper you go, the higher you fly; the higher you fly, the deeper you go,” he intones, leaving it to the listener to determine his meaning.
By the time he reaches the next verse, Lennon further obscures the words’ meaning: “Your inside is out, and your outside is in; your outside is in, and your inside is out.” These phrases perfectly illustrate Lennon’s obvious love for wordplay, present in his writings (A Spaniard in the Works, In His Own Write, and Skywriting by Word of Mouth) as well as songs like “I Am the Walrus,” “Come Together,” “Revolution 1,” and “Glass Onion,” among many others. But even more importantly, the song simply rocks.
Their previous albums focused on their mastery of studio recording and creating fantastical imagery through their words. With the White Album, the group planned to return to their pure rock roots. “That was really all I wanted to do – make a very loud raunchy rock ‘n’ roll record with the Beatles, which it is,” Lennon once said. With tracks like “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide” and “Helter Skelter” (inspired by the Who, who claimed they had just recorded the loudest, dirtiest song ever), the Beatles sought to reestablish their position as one of music’s best, most dangerous bands.
McCartney once said that the Beatles had one overreaching goal for the White Album: “We just tried to get it loud, guitars, can we have them sound louder, the drums louder.” As this song fades out, the lead guitar screams through the speakers, the bass and rhythm guitars pound, and the joyful cries of the Beatles themselves linger: “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey” embodies the spirit of the early Beatles, the young, hungry group who would stomp the floor and “mach schau” for jaded Hamburg patrons in seedy clubs.
The Beatles’ frantic cries of “come on” at the end of the track strongly echo their past, but the track also demonstrates how years of experience molded them into a totally original and unparalleled live band. Raunchy and loud? Mission accomplished.
‘CRY BABY CRY’
John Lennon may have called it “a piece of rubbish,” but “Cry Baby Cry” symbolizes one of his more underrated compositions. Written while in India, “Cry Baby Cry” serves as a twisted nursery rhyme, and he would return to the motif years later on Double Fantasy’s “Cleanup Time.” The 1968 tune landed on the White Album, and still intrigues with its unusual instrumentation and cryptic lyrics.
As has been well documented, the Beatles’ time studying under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in India also produced a wealth of new material. According to Hunter Davies’ Beatles biography, Lennon’s inspiration for “Cry Baby Cry” drew from a television commercial. “I think I got them from an advert – ‘Cry baby cry, make your mother buy.’ I’ve been playing it over on the piano. I’ve let it go now. It’ll come back if I really want it,” he told the Davies. Another probable source is the nursery rhyme “Sing a Song of Sixpence,” which contains lines very similar to “Cry Baby Cry”: “The king was in his counting house counting out his money; the queen was in the parlor eating bread and honey.”
Finishing the track in India, Lennon brought it to George Harrison’s Esher home in May 1968; there, the group laid down several demos which would ultimately make up much of the White Album. Returning to Abbey Road Studios on July 15, 1968, the Beatles began work on “Cry Baby Cry”; according to the Beatles Bible, they filled four 30-minute tapes with numerous rehearsal takes. Unfortunately, this material was wiped during two subsequent recording sessions.
The next day, the Beatles recorded 10 additional takes – take 1 later surfaced on Anthology 3, and differed little from the final version. However, take 10 was deemed best, with Lennon on acoustic guitar, piano, and vocals, Paul McCartney on bass, and Ringo Starr on drums. (Harrison did not participate in these sessions.) Ultimately, the group created two mixes of take 10, retaining the instrumentation but removing most of Lennon’s vocals. Take 12 was finally selected as the basis for the final version.
By this time, longtime Abbey Road engineer Geoff Emerick had walked out of the White Album sessions in protest; Ken Scott replaced Emerick on July 18. Under Scott and Martin’s guidance, Lennon performed new lead vocals while Martin added harmonium. McCartney laid down harmonies, Starr shook a tambourine, and Harrison rejoined them to play electric guitar and add sound effects. Mixing would not commence until Oct. 15, when artificial double-tracking was implemented to strengthen the acoustic guitar section.
Interestingly, the White Album features a hidden coda to “Cry Baby Cry”: a song fragment informally titled “Can You Take Me Back.” An impromptu jam, the song derives from Sept. 16 recording sessions for “I Will.” Not surprisingly, the percussion, acoustic guitar, and McCartney’s gentle vocals all closely resemble the White Album ballad. “Can You Take Me Back” does not directly relate to “Cry Baby Cry”; as Alan Pollack writes in his “Notes On” series: “The album context of ‘Can You Take Me Back’ is ambiguous, the song not being singled out per se on the track listing. Are we to consider it as a trailer to ‘Cry Baby Cry’ or a curtain raiser to ‘Revolution 9’?”
An examination of the lyrics may provide some clues. Lennon’s vocals stand front and center throughout the relatively simple tune, with lines resembling the aforementioned “Sing a Song of Sixpence”:
The king of Marigold was in the kitchen
Cooking breakfast for the queen.
The queen was in the parlor
Playing piano for the children of the king.
He continues painting a precious or “twee” image of a royal family, heavily emphasizing childlike themes:
The king was in the garden
Picking flowers for a friend who came to play.
The queen was in the playroom
Painting pictures for the children’s holiday.
As Lennon’s breathy voice narrates this charming scene, he introduces two more characters: the Duke and Duchess of Kirkcaldy, who arrive late for tea with the picture-perfect royal family.
Woven throughout this seemingly serene and unremarkable moment is the chorus: “Cry baby cry – make your mother sigh; she’s old enough to know better.” While this may echo the advertisement Lennon mentioned in Davies’ book, it also injects a sense of foreboding, as if something dark looms over this tranquility. The next eerie lines suggest as much:
At 12 o’clock a meeting round the table
For a séance in the dark.
With voices out of nowhere
Put on especially by the children for a lark.
This apparent supernatural element casts a shadow on the proceedings, although Lennon clarifies that the children may be pulling a prank on the grownups. Who is deceiving whom in this scenario? Note how Lennon portrays the duke and duchess as well as the king and queen as juvenile and simplistic. Their children do not play or paint; their parents do. Instead, the children become active only in order to fool the adults.
Indeed, “Cry Baby Cry” inverts the conventional nursery rhyme, suggesting turbulence in parent-child roles and relationships. Martin’s harmonium only enhances the quaintness – and, perhaps, false peacefulness – of this domesticity. Starr’s bombastic drums stress incongruity, that what lies beneath the surface of the quaint images may be something darker. Along with Lennon’s haunting voice, and McCartney’s descending bass lines, Starr’s drums may be the most important ingredient of an unusual tune.
“Cry Baby Cry” may not receive as much attention as other White Album tracks, but it perfectly embodies a Beatles trademark: turning musical conventions upside down, lending their own interpretations to traditional forms through alternate arrangements and at times unsettling lyrics.
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