Great Lost Beatles Album?

I'm not going to make anyone read all this under the illusion that one has been discovered. So straight up, no, I don't know of one. But I do wish there was a lost unreleased album.

Over the years there have been rumours. Hot As Sun was one such album, apparently recorded somewhere between Let It Be and Abbey Road. The master tapes were stolen and held to ransom, before being accidentally erased when carried through an airport X-ray machine

It is, of course, too good to be true. But bootleggers have created editions of this "lost album" using rehearsal tapes, mostly from the Get Back sessions.

Over the years I have been thrilled to discover unreleased tracks. Back in the 90s it was That Means a Lot, If You’ve Got Troubles and 12 Bar Original. And, over time, there have been a few others. It was wonderful hearing "new" Beatles songs. Of course there is a reason they weren't released at the time, and they generally don't get played too often. 

There are tracks we know are still in the vaults. At this time they are nothing more than titles. And, for the most part, I imagine they are not tracks we would play too often. But as fans and collectors, we would still love to hear them.

Unlike Neil Young or Prince, for example, I don't for one minute believe the Beatles have an unreleased album hidden away. Their time throughout the 60s is very well documented, and it's unlikely they would have had time to record a missing album. I think the best we can hope for a track or two hidden away which perhaps even they had forgotten about but might pop up on an acetate somewhere.

No, there isn't a lost album. But I can still dream.

Reading The Beatles.

I'm alternating my reading at the moment, a bit of non-fiction between the fiction. A couple of Spec-Fic magazines thrown in for good measure. Lots of short stories, as this is the form in which I've been writing thus far. But in my non-fiction moments I've been getting back (ha! - get it?) into one of my great loves, The Beatles.

If I had to choose only one band that I could listen to for the rest of my life, then it would have to be The Beatles. I've been listening to them since I was a kid, and I never tire of them. There's a lot of music that speaks to me in ways that other artforms cannot, but music by The Beatles does so more consistently and more meaningfully than most.

But as a whole cultural phenomenon that came to represent everything about the sixties, I find their story fascinating. And so I read about them. A lot. I probably have more books about The Beatles than on any other subject.

It's been a while since I've read much about them. The last few months has seen me read three or four Beatles books, and I've loved every second of it. Insights, different viewpoints, little tales about meeting them, seeing them, descriptions of concerts or events. And every now and again I find something that I didn't know about, something that stuns me, impresses me, or just makes me jealous I wasn't ten years older. Makes me wish I'd lived the sixties as a teenager and managed to see them live.

But I have my little Beatles moments I cherish. Standing next to a guy as he was opening all the mail addressed to George Martin. Sitting at the console in studio two where they recorded just about everything. Touching the keyboard Billy Preston played in the Get Back sessions. Playing the piano Paul used on Lady Madonna. Standing at the Strawberry Field gates in a mist so magical and mystical I half expected Lennon to walk towards me.

There truly will never be another band like The Beatles. At least not for me.

Check out my Beatles page here.

And In The End, The Love You Take Is Equal To The Love You Make.

I've been listening to The Beatles a lot recently.

Anyone who knows me well may not think this is particularly surprising. I collect Beatles music, books, newspaper cuttings. I've read hundreds of books on them (yes, hundreds) and I'm even acknowledged in one for my comments and critiquing. But for the past few years I've listened to them in much the same way a casual fan would listen to their albums.

I used to listen more like a scholar, (OK, some would say obsessive freak), comparing this mix with that mix, this take with that take, even this pressing with that pressing. I'd listen to hours and hours of Get Back rehearsals, listen to them as they created and constructed their songs. As they chatted about the weather, the news, even what's for lunch. I loved nothing more than finding a fragment of conversation or (oh my goodness) a song I'd never heard before. But with the advent of the internet, I think it all became too easily available and I no longer had to hunt for things. Perhaps too I had access to too much and I became blase about what there was.

But a break is as good as a holiday, they say, and I'm back into it, deep into 1969 rehearsals and listening to perhaps the greatest band the world will ever know as they implode and self destruct.

It makes me sad.

I watched the rooftop session last night. The last live performance they ever gave. It was a cold January morning and they shuffled up onto the roof of the Apple building to run through some songs. And for a few precious moments, you can see them happy, lost in the songs, actually enjoying making music together. Which is unbelievable considering the misery the rest of those three weeks were for them.

And then with a couple of police officers telling them to pull the plug, the dream was over.

None of them could be bothered even touching those rehearsal tapes. They were given to Phil Spector who cobbled the Let It Be album together. Sure, they went back into the studio six months later and recorded Abbey Road, a swansong, but it was never going to be the same again.

Yoko wasn't at fault for the breakup. She was a symptom. As was Linda, Ringo's film-making and George's exploration of all things Indian and spiritual.

If only. If only John and Paul had agreed to sit down and work things out. If only the others had been keen to continue. If only The Beatles were still The Beatles.

Watching them on the rooftop, grinning, flubbing lines, living in the moment is exciting. But it's also sad.

Only a few months after Woodstock, the sixties were over, The Beatles on the rooftop and The Rolling Stones at Altamont had killed the dream.

Write. Read. Make art. Create music. Live the dream. Don't regret. The time is now.

The Angry One.

As you may recall, I was lucky enough to find myself inside Abbey Road studios a couple of years ago. When I first entered the holy place and was waiting at the reception counter, I stood next to some guy who was opening a stack of envelopes and checking the mail. What made this ultra cool, though, was the letters were all addressed to Sir George Martin. To me it was a moment of surrealism, a moment when I felt connected personally to the Fabs. I mean, here I was standing next to the guy who opened mail for the guy who produced The Beatles.

With my wife and our host, I toured all three studios guided by the studio manager. She was able to share lots about the studios, both technically and historically, but I more than held my own when it came to geekdom and useless trivia.  At one point she pointed to some pictures on the wall, and identified the artists. The Goons, Cilla Black, Sir Malcolm Sargent. (All of which I knew.) There was, however, one group that she didn't know.  I was able to identify them, though.  At another point she told me she wasn't sure whether The Beatles had ever used Studio 3. I was able to state which songs were recorded there, and then had a similar conversation in Studio 1.

Yeah, I know I'm sad.  But I'm a Beatles nerd.

There is very little in the way of storage available at the studios, so the hallways are lined with instruments. As we passed a couple of pianos and an organ, the manager just tapped them and said "Lady Madonna, Billy Preston, A Day in the Life.  Would you like to play any of these?"

I don't think I drooled though I may have gasped audibly.  I did, however, have enough presence of mind to grab the opportunity to play a couple of chords on the Lady Madonna piano.  And it had that sound. You could instantly recognise the tones.

As we were leaving, I asked my wife what the date was. She replied it was the 4th of January. "Wow", I said. "Thirty-seven years ago today the Beatles had their last ever session here. George played the guitar overdubs to Let It Be." At this point our host said, "You need to get a life!  Ride a bike, or something." And grinned. I guess he was kind of impressed, in the same way people are 'kind of' impressed by road accidents.

Let It Be was released in two versions. The single with the softer guitar solo, and the album track with the overdubbed 'angry' solo.  I believe there were plans at one stage to release the song with the two solos on different channels, but it never eventuated.

But last week, as I started teaching myself the 'angry' solo, I recalled the afternoon I spent in the studio. A bunch of kids at school, the keyboard ensemble,  have chosen to play Let It Be at a concert. And their music teacher has asked me to accompany them on stage. It didn't take long to figure out - but I want to nail the thing so I get it right on the night.

OK, it's not Woodstock, but it's a gig.  And I know I'll have fun.  I only hope I do credit to George Harrison.

Number 9, Number 9, Number 9...

Beatles day is here at last, and while I sit at work and wait for the box sets to be delivered, I must confess to having already sourced and heard many of the remasters already.

Stunning.

The clarity of the bass, the crispness of the handclaps, the sheen of the cymbals. And those harmonies. Wow. You can almost see the boys standing face to face in Studio 2, headphones on, singing their hearts out. Grab a disc and cue up some of the tracks where George, John and Paul's voices blend. And prepare to be impressed

These are the albums as they were meant to be heard. The good Doctor himself told me that he thought it was "like wiping the grime off a Mercedes." That's a simile I like, and it's true. I loved that moment of discovering the car I thought I knew so well was shiny all along.

After hearing the discs on a friend's system, I've realised the limitations of my own dvd/cd player. But even though, I'm hearing parts and instruments I've never heard before - and remember, I'm a Beatles freak. I have 8 different versions of Abbey Road, for goodness sakes! Everything from the Brazilian mono release (which runs slow) to the Japanese Black Triangle CD release (the pre-emphasis sounds a little shinier).

So this week will be Beatle listening week in my house. Mono, stereo, old, new. The lot. And as your attorney I would advise you to do the same. Grab a Beatles album and listen like you've never listened before.

Of course there's always more I want to hear. And I'm not just talking about Etcetera, Woman or Carnival of Light. I would also love to listen to Doubleback Alley, Let's Be Natural, Hold My Hand and Cheese & Onions in all their sonic splendour.

So when can we expect The Rutles remasters?

And Now, Here They Are, The Beatles!

Only two weeks until the remastered Beatles CDs become available.

As a Beatle freak, (Yep, that's me sitting at the console in Studio 2 at Abbey Road) this is something I've waited a very long time for. The 1987 releases were awful - muddy, compressed and quite unlistenable. And, for some reason that's still unclear, the first four albums were only released in mono. At the time EMI made some excuse about how that's how they were released originally, but it didn't take much research to discover those discs were also released on stereo vinyl.

About 15 years ago in Tokyo, the good Doctor and I obtained CDs containing mono transfers of the White Album. I still recall the first time I heard those. Wow! Not only was the mix amazing, but the clarity and presence blew my mind. Sgt. Pepper was much the same. Of course George Martin and crew spent almost three weeks mixing the mono Pepper, and about two and a half days with the stereo mix.

Over the past few years, my official Beatles CDs have been relegated to the back cupboard while I've listened to Dr. Ebbett's vinyl transfers. Superior in every way.

While the Rolling Stones have continually updated and repackaged their discs (although I still prefer the Mickboy transfers), the Beatles have waited a long time to do this. And from all I've read, it looks like it has been done properly.

The Doctor is the coolest Beatles fan I know. He knows what's what, and we have incredibly similar tastes and interests. I only wish he lived closer so we could have a listening party together on the release date.