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Lend Me Your Ears.


I was sad to wake to the news that George Martin passed away this morning.

His cultural significance is incalculable, thanks to his work with The Beatles, not to mention everything else. Without him, John, Paul, George and Ringo would have been a completely different and less successful animal (or should that say 'insect'?). Not only was he bold enough to take a chance on a band everyone else had turned down, purely because he liked their personality; he was also prepared to nurture their burgeoning, fledgling talent; gently nudging them along, realising and stoking their potential; creating incredible sonic landscapes with the most limited technology.

His ear for production and arrangement was astounding. What he achieved with The Beatles in their seven-year recording career defies belief. If I were talking about anyone else, this would be hyperbole, but not with him. The examples of his crisp ability are endless, from the stark, concise non-sentimental strings of 'Eleanor Rigby' to the yearning warmth of 'Yesterday'; from the otherworldly acid-tinged sound-scape of 'Strawberry Fields Forever' to the smell-of-the-sawdust circus backdrop to 'Being For the Benefit of Mr Kite!'. Who else would have taken those risks with such amazing results? Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was recorded on a four-track, for fuck’s sake.

It would have loved to have met him and listened to his anecdotes. He came across as a  consummate gentleman. He also played the beautiful vari-speeded piano solo on 'In My Life'; being responsible for just those eight bars was enough.

Paul McCartney put it best in a statement today: “If anyone earned the title of the fifth Beatle it was George.” That’s quite a testimony. He’ll be sorely missed, that chap.


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