The Beatles: Rubber Soul (Super Deluxe)

As with all of Giles Martin’s revolutionary remixes of Beatles records, it’s important to remember that whatever version of Rubber Soul you know and love the most still exists; this release augments rather than replaces it. In the case of Rubber Soul in particular it’s worth pointing out that there is no definitive edition. While it was undeniably a watershed moment in Beatles history and arguably their first truly forward-looking album, it was still recorded to be released in mono and not stereo and the ‘true stereo’ version the world is now used to is a 1987 remix by producer George Martin – Giles Martin’s father – made for the CD release. Rubber Soul was famously the Beatles’ first album that was conceived as an album and not just a collection of their latest songs, but it was still recorded against the clock, with the release taking place two weeks after the final mixing and just four months after the release of Help! Part of what made and still makes the band outstanding is not just their innovations in songwriting and recording, but the fact that the evolution happened so quickly. While Revolver has tended to be the critics’ favorite Beatles album in the past couple of decades, Rubber Soul is perhaps the most influential. It’s the point at which the Beatles absorbed the influences of artists like Dylan, the Byrds and the Beach Boys into their songwriting, expanding their musical horizons and then feeding that influence back across the Atlantic and the world. There are four discs in the set – the first is the newly remixed album, disc two is the sessions, demos and related non-album single “Day Tripper”/“We Can Work it Out” and the third is the original mono mix – the standard version of Rubber Soul everywhere except the USA and Canada. There have always been people who prefer the mono mix and it does have a toughness that makes it – especially compared to the spacious and detailed new mix – a forceful rather than pointless alternative. Finally, there’s the US/Canada version of the album, which had a different tracklisting, giving it a quite different flavor that led to its marketing – despite the punning title – as a folk-rock record. By omitting four of the strongest tracks, “Drive My Car,” “Nowhere Man,” “What Goes On” and “If I Needed Someone,” and substituting them with the older-sounding “I’ve Just Seen a Face” and “It’s Only Love,” the album’s revolutionary edge was dulled, but it still has a Beatles For Sale charm and for those who grew up with it remains a cherished record. As with the previous sets in this series, the obvious selling point is that disc of demos and extras, but fascinating and often excellent though that stuff is, it’s the album remix itself that’s the star of the show, presenting Rubber Soul as an album at once familiar and new. One of the key features of the Giles Martin mixes, most noticeable through headphones, is the placing of whatever the focal point happens to be – sometimes, as on “Drive My Car” the guitar intro, but more often the vocals – right at the center of the sound, where they used often to be placed slightly to one side. It gives the music an immediacy and clarity and a strangely modern quality that works almost like an increase in volume. At its best, as on “Nowhere Man”, “Girl” and the hugely powerful “The Word” – where Ringo is phenomenal – it places the listener startlingly close to the band. The possible downside is that the process also reveals usually unnoticed quirks, which some listeners tend to find distracting. These are less surprising on Rubber Soul than they were on Revolver , but even so there are some fascinating new emphases, as on the underrated “Wait”, where McCartney’s bass playing – far freer on Rubber Soul than on the previous Beatles albums, does some very eccentric things in the bridge, which at first catch the ear in an almost awkward way. The main individual beneficiary of Martin’s detailed approach is the bass guitar, which is far more defined than on previous versions of the album, making McCartney’s inventiveness much clearer, but really everything sounds more defined and present, especially the vocal harmonies. Rubber Soul features songs about which not much needs to be said: McCartney’s tongue-in-cheek “Michelle”, at heart a kind of pastiche of the French chanson tradition, but which transcended its inspiration to become one of the most covered songs of all time and Lennon’s superior “Girl,” which did something similar, but with a German inflection. Over the years, the critical consensus on the misogynistic “Run For Your Life” has soured, but it was one of the album’s most covered tracks in the later ‘60s, important for garage bands, especially in non-English speaking markets. The influence of Bob Dylan transformed the band’s songwriting too. That influence is both superficial – as in the acoustic textures across the album, notable in songs like “Norwegian Wood” and “I’m Looking Through You” – and also deeper, with all of the songwriters, especially Harrison and Lennon, taking a more complex lyrical approach than before. Lennon had written confessional material in the past, but they tended, like “Help!” to be delivered in the shape of almost bubblegum pop songs, whereas something like “Nowhere Man” and especially “In My Life” is far more contemplative and considered. The soul and R&B influence that gave the album its name is most evident on the superb opener “Drive My Car” and the proto-psychedelic “The Word,” while George Harrison had his most substantial contributions to date with “Think for Yourself” and “If I Needed Someone,” and Ringo had his first ever writing credit with the lightly doleful country song “What Goes On.” For the disc of extras, Martin has exhaustively raided the archives and some songs benefit far more than others. On the one hand, we have a whole series of fascinating sketches and takes for songs like “Norwegian Wood” and “Day Tripper.” The first take of “Norwegian Wood” – sans sitar – is remarkably complete, while a second version opens with the sitar playing the melody of the bridge, rather than the usual one, which works surprisingly well and gives the song more of a droning quality. On the other hand, it turns out that the fantastic album version of “You Won’t See Me” was the successful take and no further tinkering was necessary. Because of the relative paucity of extra material compared to the previous releases in the series, there are several instrumental backing tracks which are interesting but inessential, but that’s more than made up for elsewhere. Lennon’s twee but essential home demo for “Little Girl” is intimate and moving, while McCartney’s breezy demo for “We Can Work It Out” is overdubbed halfway through with Lennon’s Goons -like nonsense. Just as compelling, the work tape for “Day Tripper” – at that point still without its iconic guitar riff – is satisfying in its own right and it’s great too to hear George Harrison in charge and directing the band for the vocal overdubs of “Think For Yourself.” As always, there’s something strangely addictive about listening to the band laughing and squabbling as they try to work out the final shape of songs that would become classics. Special deluxe editions of albums are generally aimed most squarely at diehard fans, but although that’s true here too, one could make the argument that newcomers to the album should check out this version first, for its sharpness and immediacy. For some people the Beatles are and always have been the most overrated band in rock history. Nothing on Rubber Soul is likely to convince them otherwise, but it’s their loss. Whether there will be any further albums in this series seems slightly unlikely, given the different nature – both technical and in songwriting terms – of the Beatles’ earlier work, but at this point it would be churlish to ask for more. . Summary Whether you consider Rubber Soul to be the Beatles’ masterpiece or not, it’s an innovative and exciting album, and this superb new mix makes it all sound new again. 94 % Superlative Beatles