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About A Day in the Life
I see that Clifford opened up this month’s topic with music for the monthly theme: a day in the life. Number one, of course, is the Beatle’s A Day in the Life, the last song on Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band. Not one of my favorite songs in the Beatles’ canon. I had already decided on writing about my recent experience in watching a Monarch butterfly hatch on my deck, when the events of the last week transpired. All that kept running through my head was “I read the news today, oh boy” because the news just got worse and worse. The universe spoke in a big way and so my Monarch story will wait for another theme.
The first thing I learned from Wikipedia is that A Day in the Life is: “…widely regarded as one of the finest and most important works in popular music history.” Well, that took me by surprise. It does not break into my top 30 of Beatle’s songs, assuming I can name 30. So I decided that it was worth delving into to find out why. No surprise that as with many of the “finest and most important works in popular music history”, they produced the heck out of it. The song took 34 hours to record. In contrast, the entire album Please Please Me” took 15 hours to record in its entirety (Wikipedia).
The song does have a complex structure, which was no doubt advanced for its time. The original song by Lennon included the melody and the lyrics but did not include the bridge, which was added later by McCartney. As a transition between the end of the second verse and the bridge, they included another bridge of 24 bars. Paul McCartney said that “It was just a period of time, an arbitrary length of bars, which was very Cage thinking,” referring to the avant-garde composer John Cage. Rolling Stone noted that it may not have been quite so arbitrary, as there are 24 hours in a day. Get it? They apparently had no immediate plans for the bridge, and the first recording had the voice of a roadie, Max Evans, counting to 24 with some piano chords. As a joke, he had set an alarm clock to go off at the end. But since the McCartney bridge started with “Woke up, got out of bed”, they decided to leave it in.
The influence of the avant-garde composers is also seen in the orchestral section. Lennon requested that the 24 bar bridge be filled with “a tremendous build-up, from nothing up to something absolutely like the end of the world.” George Martin wrote a score, about which he said:
What I did there was to write … the lowest possible note for each of the instruments in the orchestra. At the end of the twenty-four bars, I wrote the highest note … near a chord of E major. Then I put a squiggly line right through the twenty-four bars, with reference points to tell them roughly what note they should have reached during each bar … Of course, they all looked at me as though I were completely mad (Wikipedia).
McCartney originally wanted a 90-piece orchestra but I gather that would have been prohibitively expensive, so they settled on 40. But they recorded the improvisation of the 40-piece orchestra multiple times and overlaid them on the 4 track to give it that cataclysmic crescendo sound.
The recording of the orchestral section was hosted as a 60’s-style happening, with Mick Jagger, Marianne Faithful, Keith Richards, and Michael Nesmith among the guests. The Beatles gave the orchestra members silly costume accessories to wear along with their formal dress to lighten the mood. But the way it is cut in the above video, it looks rather more like a somewhat disturbing drug trip. Of course, with its signature line, I’d love to turn you on, it was assumed to be a drug song and was banned by the BBC. The Beatles denied it at the time (surprise!) But according to Wikipedia McCartney said about that line “This was the time of Tim Leary‘s ‘Turn on, tune in, drop out‘ and we wrote, ‘I’d love to turn you on.’ John and I gave each other a knowing look: ‘Uh-huh, it’s a drug song.”.
And then there is the closing chord, called “one of the most famous final closing chords in music history”. The ending was first recorded at the end of the orchestral session and involved the Beatles and their guests humming. The humming was discarded later in favor of:
Lennon, McCartney, Starr, and Evans shared three different pianos, with Martin on harmonium, and all played an E-major chord simultaneously. The chord was made to ring out for over forty seconds by increasing the recording sound level as the vibration faded out. Towards the end of the chord, the recording level was so high that listeners can hear the sounds of the studio, including rustling papers and a squeaking chair. (Wikipedia)
According to Rolling Stone, it took nine takes to get the timing right, and again it was overdubbed three times so the effect was 9 pianos played by 12 men. Rolling Stone doesn’t mention George Martin.
I will leave it to all you Ricochet Beatles’ fans and rock musicologists as to whether it truly is one of the finest and most important works in popular music history. But I did find it delightful that its final chord has had a long lasting effect on popular culture. The audio trademark for THX and the start up chime on the Apple McIntosh computer (Quadra series) were both inspired by this chord. (Wikipedia)
So now, thanks to this theme, I will think of a Day in the Life every time I start up my Mac!
Published in Group Writing
I thought then that this song epitomized that time.
Like now, it was a disconcerting almost surreal time. LBJ and Westmoreland were making a mess of Vietnam, apparently with no plan to deal with the realities of that war and with no end in sight. Soldiers were dying in droves with almost a daily report of 30 or 40 more soldiers dead. People were freaking out and not in a good way. The whole LSD, drug induced Hippie- counter culture thing came on very quickly in a way that could not have been envisioned at all before 1965.
It was the beginning of the denial of reality in favor of some self imposed Progressive ideas like not bombing Haiphong harbor, which foreshadowed the increasingly separated from reality thinking of the Progressive Democratic party of today.
If you watch early Beatles videos, it appears that John was a much happier, almost care free man then, and then by 1968 a much more angst ridden serious man . Of all the Beatles, I think those times, the War, and the trappings of celebrity affected John the most.
Meh. It starts well. As usual, “avant garde” is longhand for “junk”. Good songwriters twisted by false ideology.
“Produced” can mean two things in music recording. It can refer to technique of coloring, capturing, and balancing instruments to record well. Or it can refer to refining of the song itself, to prepare what is to be recorded. Often, a producer is involved in both actions.
In regard to sound quality, I often wish more albums were recorded as well as Metallica’s black album with producer Bob Rock. Perhaps one day soon, automated software will assist in the cleaning of old music recordings like software currently assists in cleaning old photos and movies. Most musicians of the vinyl era would be envious of modern studio recordings.
That was pretty much my reaction all along. A great opening and a great ending, although before I wrote this I never paid much attention to the final chord. I will henceforth. But the middle part? Meh.
I think so. One thing that is striking about the Beatles is their evolution from their early teen idol pop years to their later years. Many other bands made that transformation, but I think the Beatles led the way. And he certainly reflected the mood in America over that same time period.
The album (and the song) is one of those “it’s of it’s time and place” things. The degree of fawning over it at the time was notable—largely, I suspect, because a lot of people were often stoned. We could argue all day about where it ranks in the Beatles’ discography, but there are better, more timeless, efforts.
That’s funny. But the perception seems to have endured. This quote in the Wikipedia article was from a 2006 article by musicologist John Covach, “‘A Day in the Life’ is perhaps one of the most important single tracks in the history of rock music; clocking in at only four minutes and forty-five seconds, it must surely be among the shortest epic pieces in rock.”
It also notes that “A Day in the Life” appears on many top songs lists. … It placed first in Q magazine’s list of the 50 greatest British songs of all time, and was at the top of Mojo‘s 101 Greatest Beatles’ Songs, as decided by a panel of musicians and journalists.
I just don’t see it.
I don’t either, but I’m sort of a “Sgt. Pepper” skeptic. I find the song certainly worth a listen, and I don’t dislike it. But the enormous praise strikes me as a legacy of it being overrated in the first place.
I like it, but it’s not the Beatles record I go back to the most.
“A Day In The Life” is one of the best songs on Sergeant Pepper, but in general I don’t find the individual songs on that album particularly noteworthy. It’s an album whose reputation is mostly because of its cultural impact at the time it was released. But it’s an album I rarely listen to. (The two best tracks recorded for that album were “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane,” but the band decided to release those two songs separately as a double-sided single and omit them from the album. The album suffered as a result, I think.)
The song “A Day In The Life” does have some noteworthy features, though. As the OP mentions, most of the song was a Lennon composition, but the bridge was a completely separate song Paul McCartney had been working on. This is one of only a handful of times that Lennon and McCartney stitched together two completely different songs in this way (another example is “I’ve Got A Feeling” from Let It Be). In fact, at this point Lennon and McCartney were no longer collaborating much on songwriting, so it’s notable just to have a song from this period that both of them contributed to significantly.
The roadie’s name was Mal Evans (not Max), and he was a close friend of the Beatles going all the way back to the Liverpool days. He was pretty much always around, and he participated in a number of recordings in small ways, but I think “A Day In The Life” is the only song where you can hear his voice so clearly.
Nice post!
Sgt. Pepper as a whole is astounding. But there are a couple of tracks, such as Within You Without You and A Day in the Life, which I don’t mind skipping over occasionally.
A corollary to Aaron’s shrewd observation: “important”, “seminal”, “groundbreaking”, etc. are not the same as “entertaining”, “catchy”, “enjoyable”, or “good”.
For most bands, I have a strong sense of the songs that go with a particular album, particularly when I am very familiar with a band’s music as I am with the Beatles.. Other than the eponymous “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” and the segue into “A little help from my friends”, I actually didn’t know what songs were on this album until I looked them up after this comment. I find it is the same with the Grateful Dead. I know all their songs but have no sense of what album they came from originally. Perhaps it is because for both bands, I mostly listened to them on the radio and now, of course, streaming services.
Oops! Thanks for the correction.
Also a shrewd observation! In fact, with most modern orchestral music and opera, I find that exclusively to be the case.
This musical culture conversation is part of our Group Writing Series under the August 2021 Group Writing Theme: “A day in the life.” Stop by to sign up for the August theme: “A day in the life.”
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Honestly, has anyone every actually numerical stated precisely how many holes it would take to fill the Albert Hall?
(Yes, my life is woefully pitiful, and a day in my life has more adverbs than it needs.)
I am in full music snob mode, and I write full of wroth and indignation to rebut the non-arguments made by the philistines.
Harrumph.
Sgt Pepper changed the face of music, arguably the first concept album and certainly the first to really make it work. No concept survives execution in a pristine manner, and some songs were included that might not have been (Within You Without You), and as others have remarked, other songs were recorded for this album, but had to catch a later bus.
The album dips into the career of Billy Shears — and then exits via the reprise — leading into A Day in the Life, which transcends the album in art as in life.
The complexity (chord structure, the backbone) of each song matches the difficulty of the topic covered, like using different palettes to paint different subjects. In a concept album, the palettes are different, but coordinated to form a larger palette.
In defense of Within You Without You, however, it obviously attacks the most difficult topic — existence, meaning, and from an eastern perspective, and the whole damned thing (Never mind the sitar noodling) just sits in the key of C, ON THE CHORD of C. The most complex thing is simple. All contained … etc.
The reprise of Sgt. Pepper actually modulates up a whole tone IN THE CHORUS, and while it is noticeable — not exactly slipping one by us — it is still notable. The song begins in F but ends on a definitive G, which is where the original album-opening “Sgt Pepper” track was.
Day in the Life takes that G as its foundation, and then between verses and chorus, wrestles back and forth between G and E, while covering various forms of escape. If I had to state the unifying theme of the lyrics (and the music) of this song in particular, but perhaps the album in general, it would be “Escape”. The frequent G Bm Em sequence in the verses here is also found as a “reset” cadence in Pink Floyd’s Brain Damage — 1972, DSOTM was heavily influenced by 1967 SP. (That one is G Bm Em A, which plops back onto D, the keynote of DSOTM).
Anyway, Lennon’s G verses contrast with McCartney’s E verse (‘Woke up…”) and then the musical interlude (“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”) goes between more G-ish and more E-ish (with the continuum being what it is, there’s overlap). The last Lennon verse in G goes and then the famous rising “Start here and end here in 25 measures” or whatever cadence thunderously declares Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee… for what seems like the rest of the evening.
Billy Shears (who does not matter) escapes (which does not matter) by transcending himself, his desires, his amusements, his career (none of which matter), perhaps through inward reflection, perhaps through drugs or madness, perhaps through death. He’s out. It only mattered to Billy Shears.
/snob off.
If you just plain didn’t like it, that’s fair.
I won’t disagree with anything you wrote in your post, except to question whether Pepper can really be called a concept album. Yes, it’s generally categorized as one, and in terms of its presentation (the Beatles adopting the identities of a fictional group) I suppose it is one. But the concept simply is not there in the content, not unless the listener imaginatively finds it there. Even the Beatles themselves never claimed otherwise, so far as I know.
The concept, such as it was — a performance by the fictional Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band — persists for exactly two songs (the title track and “With A Little Help From My Friends”). It is then abandoned; none of the other songs on the album have anything whatsoever to do with that concept, not until the reprise of the opening track.
Yes, you can argue that these songs are all (supposedly) being performed by the same fictional band, but that’s no different from any musician slapping a pseudonym on an album. XTC did it with The Dukes of the Stratosphear; Paul McCartney himself did it with Percy “Thrills” Thrillington. That doesn’t make it a concept album in my book. Not like The Who’s Tommy or Pink Floyd’s The Wall, which tell (somewhat) coherent stories from start to finish.
I’m not arguing that any of this makes it less of a brilliant, innovative, or influential album. I’m just saying let’s not call it something it isn’t. It maybe suggested the idea of a concept album, but I think other artists deserve credit for actually delivering on that idea.
Have to agree here. Not in the same way that Tommy was.
I’m not really getting “ influential” either. It pushed the Stones to put out “Satanic Majesties” but pretty soon the start of metal with Led Zep was on the scene.
Like DSOTM, Sgt Pepper is a concept album, but not a rock opera. When Money runs off about football teams and caviar, it hasn;t abandoned the existential theme. SOme parts are comparison — some parts are contrast.
That said, I agree, that some of the songs are not SPECIFICALLY Sgt pepper-ish — When I’m Sixty-Four could easily have gone on another album perhaps without diminishing SP, and certainly without seeming incomplete on its own. So I ask my self (I says to myself I says, “Self… “) — why is this song here? Does it contribute to a theme? Should I read this in context or is more of a sidebar?
Can’t say for sure. But I’d say there is a pretty consistent reading. And mine is not the only valid interpretation — if it is valid at all.
That’s just what I make of it. Might be different tomorrow.
I will say that DSOTM is the absolute top shelf of concept albums, particularly in distinction from rock operas. But that was 5 (6?) years after SP. Props to the boys.
I am willing to be convinced. I know that often times what seems a little meh now was in the day something radically new.
So would you classify The Wall as a concept album or a rock opera?
I think there’s a 3rd meaning that applies here: using recording techniques to create sounds that cannot be replicated by live instruments. In the Beatles’ era that included recording multiple takes of a vocal and layering them together (or an entire orchestra), playing recordings backwards or at different speeds, and so forth. Modern technology include the much derided Auto-Tune and all sorts of computer filters to manipulate sounds and even generate entirely new ones.
I think the influence was more felt in the progressive rock scene of the 70’s. ELO in particular was inspired by the fusion of classical instrumentation with rock music and wanted to continue to explore that direction.
Yes, that is the sense in which I used it. You see it in songs like The Boxer. It is like the difference between computer generated special effects now vs what they had to do before computers.
Initially George Martin suggested they write more personal songs about their childhoods, so John wrote Strawberry Fields and Paul wrote Penny Lane, but they ended up releasing those as a single so they weren’t included on the album. Then Paul said he came up with the Sgt. Pepper concept as a way to write and record something that didn’t sound like a typical Beatles album. So yes, it seems more like adopting an alter-ego than a storyline.
Paul wrote “When I’m Sixty-Four” when he was a teenager, before he even met John Lennon. So yeah, it had nothing to do with anything else on the album.
“Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds” was inspired by a drawing John’s son brought home from school.
“Good Morning Good Morning” was inspired by a commercial for Kellogg’s Corn Flakes.
And so on. Certainly the songs are not related to one another, or to any connecting theme, in terms of intention. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a connection that the listener can find. Any work of art can take on meanings that the artist didn’t intend, and maybe part of the magic of Pepper is that it became greater than the sum of its parts.
Of course it’s valid. I wouldn’t dream of saying that you’re wrong for enjoying the album in that way. Ultimately, the artist’s intentions are not definitive, and music is what the listener hears in it.
“S.F. Sorrow” by The Pretty Things may be the first concept record. The best, to my ears.
Absolutely a rock opera. But to the state they had evolved in 1979 — which was The Wall.
Something I appreciate more these days than I used to is the capacity for the artist to express things unintentionally. If something is bothering or pre-occupying the artist, it can be expressed in the supposedly unrelated works of art.
I think that some of this shows up in works like SP, available for analysis and not out-of-bounds, but no part of the artist’s manifest intent.
I know there are some artists who intentionally cultivate that sort of thing by refusing ever to talk about what a song is supposed to mean. Don McLean has always steadfastly refused to explain the lyrics of “American Pie.” Some artists don’t even like to publish printed lyrics for their songs at all, because they prefer to let people hear the lyrics (or even mishear the lyrics) for themselves.
I used to do a lot of songwriting and home recording of my own stuff (something I hope to get back to someday). There was one particular song of mine that told a story that had a happy ending. Or so I thought. Certainly that was what I intended when I wrote it (especially since it was based on a true story in my life). But I was surprised when every time I let somebody new hear the song, they remarked on how sad it was. This was a universal reaction, even from people who knew the true story behind the song.
Eventually I realized: if I think A is true, but everyone else thinks B is true, perhaps I should consider the possibility that they are right and I am wrong. The song doesn’t care what I meant when I wrote it. It is what it is, and I’m not about to try to convince people they’re wrong when they tell me what they like about it.