Thank God for Christmas. It’s anyone’s guess how Rubber Soul – which turns fifty today – would have turned out had the Beatles thrown it together in four weeks for the Valentine’s Day market instead of as a yuletide stocking-stuffer for the kids. The Beatles were a band in constant flux, and it was a happy coincidence the holiday season came around just as the Beatles entered the apex of their creative powers.
Rubber Soul and its more radical but less consistent successor Revolver represent a period where all four Beatles were either peaking or ascending – except Paul, who’d find his calling later (Sgt. Pepper retrospective coming 2017). Ringo’s drumming is consistently incredible; it’s not often percussion puts a lump in my throat, but I’ll be damned if the tambourine on “Wait” doesn’t do it. And George, improving with each record, brings a devilish lust for songwriting to his two songs here. “Think For Yourself” continues the Beatles’ tradition of deceptive “love songs” they started with “Help,” while the gorgeous, Byrds-inspired “If I Needed Someone” was the best song he’d written up to that point. (He’d top it on Revolver with “I Want To Tell You.”)
But the record’s unquestioned star is John. Though he’s been enshrined as a peacenik guru, he was always best at his meanest. “Norwegian Wood” implies arson so subtly even one who’s memorized the lyrics might be stunned at this interpretation, which the band’s confirmed. “Girl” is the Beatles’ best character portrait, complete with a brutal deconstruction of Christian dogma that might even bring a bead of sweat to Richard Dawkins’ brow. That’s to say nothing of “What Goes On,” a Ringo-sung post-breakup song so withering that the Muse of Music might have saved it for Morrissey in another universe.
But John isn’t always a curmudgeon on Rubber Soul. “In My Life” is the first Beatles song widely regarded as a masterpiece, and it’s easy to see why. It’s almost relentless in its pathos, starting as a travelogue of Lennon’s life before taking a left turn into love-song territory and ending with a barrage of pure musical joy – an ecstatic piano solo, a cathartic concluding high note. It’s one of a number of moments of startling beauty that contrast with Rubber Soul’s more acidic moments. Many of these are provided by Paul, including “Wait,” the tender bilingual ballad “Michelle” and the plaintive, relatively lengthy outlier “You Won’t See Me.”
Rubber Soul is the most lyrically driven Beatles album, but it’s also one of the most musically unique. They’d never make an album this folky again, nor with songs this consistently short. As a result, Rubber Soul is the easiest Beatles album to divorce from the rest of the band’s career. Sure, it’s widely regarded as the band’s first masterpiece. But it’s stuck in limbo between Help, the album on which the Beatles first started to express their experimental side, and Revolver, where they first fully realized it. We can talk about the influence of Bob Dylan all day, but this is much stronger on Help. Rubber Soul feels like a quotidian album by what might have been the best band in the world at the time.
Another reason Rubber Soul is so listenable is because its worst songs come at the beginning and end. “Drive My Car” has great lyrics, including a wonderful moment where the protagonist’s girlfriend successfully talks him out of a white-collar career, but its meek half-blues riffs and “beep beep yeah” chorus are just plain cheesy. “Run For Your Life” is a tirade of threats so psychotic Lennon himself renounced it before even putting his pen to paper for “Jealous Guy.” But the 12-song stretch in between might just be the most miraculous half-hour of pop music ever made.
Listen to “Wait” below.
Bromfield: At 50, ‘Rubber Soul’ is still one of the best pop albums ever made
Daniel Bromfield
December 2, 2015
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