'Why Don't We Do it In the Road?'
Today, I took the opportunity for a rare tour of Abbey Road Studios as a belated 40th birthday treat. And while I anticipated it would be emotional standing in the rooms where so much magic was committed to tape, I still wasn't quite prepared for the visceral impact.
It's not just its connection to the Beatles that makes it such an extraordinary place. No other building on the planet has produced so much music that's woven into our collective consciousness. It's the invisible location of countless performances we know so well that often touch us deep in our soul, and the zebra crossing outside makes it easy to arrive on foot. Though whether you choose to wear shoes is up to you.
I first visited that pedestrian landmark in 1996ish as a teenager with my guitarist friend, Rich. I'd been desperate to go there for years and would drop hints about it whenever I was in London for something touristy. I've since been a handful of times with other friends with a shared interest: I went on a pilgrimage with my flatmates in 2001 on the day George Harrison died, when tealights and joss sticks lit up the wall outside while a busker had a decent stab at 'Something'. My friend (and future 'McCartney McAlphabet' co-host) Clary took a detour with me when we were students on our way back from watching a friend's show in London in her comedic three-wheeler. Even Glyn and I stopped off once on the way home from a stint on the road with Buddy Holly and The Cricketers. But, outside of ambitiously popping in to ask for a price list with Rich in the mid-1990s, I'd never crossed the studio threshold until today.
And my God, the trip was worth it. The room with the most personal impact was Studio Two, where The Beatles recorded most of the 190 songs they cut at Abbey Road (a huge chunk of the 210 songs released in total). Walking down the staircase from the control room to the studio was a moment to savour. The air had a pleasant scent I'd best equate to an old piano shop, which was a sensory detail I'd never considered (did John and Paul smell this when they were singing?). Photos of Morecambe and Wise, Peter Sellers, Ella Fitzgerald and The Beatles recording there adorned the walls temporarily, making the fact they worked there real. And dotted around the room were tape machines, microphones and instruments used by the Fab Four on so many well-known records.
Sentences on labels like "John Lennon most famously used this mic on 'Yer Blues'" or "Paul played this piano on 'The Fool on The Hill'" barely compute. Nor does being confronted by the mellotron used on Strawberry Fields Forever. Even seeing the red leather chairs they'd perch on while working is a vivid detail too many. As I walked around, the song 'In My Life' started playing from an unseen speaker system, inspiring me to stop and listen until it finished. Seldom do you get to stand in a room that bore witness to something that changed the course of your life for the better.
Exploring the cavernous Studio One that they use for orchestral sessions was special too. So many film soundtracks have been recorded there, from 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' to 'Lord of The Rings'. And in 1967, it was the location of the UK's contribution to the first worldwide satellite broadcast, 'Our World', when The Beatles premiered the song 'All You Need Is Love' live while surrounded by a hippie entourage that included a Rolling Stone or two.
Other highlights include watching a video of the session for 'Alfie' in the room it took place (seeing Burt Bacharach passionately conduct both Cilla and the orchestra from the piano while playing) and listening to a piece from the Star Wars soundtrack through the state-of-the-art speaker system in the control room. By the end of the day, I was emotionally spent. And while it was nice to tick the visit off on my bucket list, going back one day in a work context would be the icing on the cake. And how I managed to resist playing the intro to 'Lady Madonna' on the piano Macca recorded it on, I'll never know. The things you do to avoid a swift tasering. Though I might have left a little promotional graffiti on the outside wall.