mostly david ephgrave

The emotional weight of this lesser-known Beatles b-side far surpasses its familiarity. When summarising all of his songs many years later, John Lennon dismissed this as a poor man's rewrite of This Boy, but to say that is to do the number a massive discredit. I'd say it knocks that song out of the park, and where This Boy's a twee slice of early-Sixties' teenage doo-wop, Yes it Is is a mournful, adult reflection of frustration and loss; the suggestion it could be about John's mum (who died following a road accident when he was a teenager) is more than likely. Whatever you think of the song, the vocal performance is outstanding, with John, Paul and George's voices blending as no-one else could. How they managed to get such a wonderful sound while standing around one mic is extraordinary. This is even more striking when you consider how early in their recording career it was and is proof that talent can't be masked by primitive technology; I dread to th...

I just wanted to take a moment to shine a light on this lesser-known track from The Beatles (A.K.A. the White Album) that has no right to be a lesser-known when it comes to it. I think part of the reason it’s largely unknown is due to its original mix, which was so quiet as to almost be inaudible for at least the first half of the song, particularly when listened to on vinyl. Now if you take a look at the comments on the YouTube link I posted you’ll find as many people complaining that the newly lifted level diminishes the dynamics as those who are delighted they can finally hear it; while I can see a little of both (particularly when it comes to the rattling wine-bottled howling-over-an-organ finish, which sounds far more atmospheric on the original version) when push comes to shove, I fall more in the latter camp: lifting the level has elevated the song, given it a chance to shine it never had previously. It’s no wonder it got lost really, being tucked away towa...

This evening, I treated myself to a from-the-beginning-to-the-end listen of the newly remixed fiftieth anniversary edition of the White Album (that no-one on the planet refers to by its real name ‘The Beatles’). Only the other day, it occurred to me why the band might have decided to make this specific record eponymously-titled; the album they released the year before was essentially put out under a pseudonym - Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band - to give them freedom to step outside (love) of their perceived identity and try new ideas, so in that spirit, it makes sense that they’d want to make the album that followed, which was essentially back-to-basics (as far as any Beatles project was) - more firmly-rooted in their own brand again. That said, it’s a shame they couldn’t go with the working title ‘A Doll’s House’ (which was nabbed by the prog band Family) as that would have reflected the eclectic tracklist perfectly. One thing returning to the...

Forty-nine years ago today, The Beatles stepped onto the roof of the Apple building on Savile Row for their last ever live performance - which was remarkably strong considering the circumstances - and while they were up there for less than an hour, they recorded two of my favourite songs of all time. One of them, I’veGot a Feeling , I’ve discussed here before, but tonight I’d like to sing the praises of their ode to the vulnerability of a new relationship; the soulful and searingly honest Don’t Let Me Down. What makes it work so well for me is John and Paul’s voices, which fit together perfectly and give the song its weight; that a cappella 5/4 bar that falls at the beginning of each phrase in the verse is a stroke of compositional genius that shouldn’t pass unnoticed as it does, yet somehow subliminally reinforces the risk the protagonist has put themselves under by revealing how much they need that other person, plus the way the vocals weave together emphasises...

If the rumours are true and Ringo Starr is about to be knighted, will he now be known to Americans as Sir Topham Hatt? (The answer’s no.) Ringo’s a complex character to consider, as it’s hard to settle on an opinion about him. For one, I would argue - going completely against the tired old cliché - that he’s a vastly underrated drummer and, as such, the most disrespected Beatle; wherever you stand on John, Paul or George either musically or personally, it would be very hard to deny their impact on popular culture, yet for some reason, Ringo’s often seen as the Beatles’ running joke; the lucky guy who entered the movie seconds before the band got famous, to be dragged along for the ride. Anyone who knows more than the Beatle-basics would tell you that’s nonsense; Paul regularly states in interviews that it wasn’t until Ringo sat behind the kit that their sound was complete and he knew they were onto something special. He’s one of rock’s most...

I booked my train tickets for Edinburgh today, so it must be happening. I also managed to fit in listening to the first three parts of BBC Radio 2’s four-part series ‘Paul Merton’s Beatles’ around working on my show; I wonder if you can guess what band the programme was about? More specifically, it's built around the fictional premise that - after putting aside their business differences - The Beatles briefly reformed in 1974 to release a new album (called ‘All Made Up’) and stage a reunion concert. The first two episodes consist of solo live performances from John, Paul, George and Ringo that have been edited together to sound like a single gig (with Merton supplying the excitable commentary of a journalistic witness) and the final two are built around studio recordings from the post-Fab Four that have been collated to sound like the album the group might have made. Paul Merton is famously a big Beatles fan so I knew it was likely to ...

I never cease to be surprised and amazed by just how good The Beatles were; an opinion that was firmly reiterated and refreshed last night, when watching the new film documenting their touring years, 'Eight Days a Week'. Their story is something I grew up with, studying and obsessing over it since the age of ten. They were a source of comfort and inspiration to me as an only-child, like four friends or brothers I could look up to and turn to whenever I needed them. They made me want to be a musician, songwriter and - indirectly - a comedian, thanks to their natural knack for humour and the fact they seemed to be having so much fun. While I’ve always been more attuned to their later material, I have a lot of respect for their early stuff as well, plus a sense of incredulousness at how quickly they matured and grew. One thing that’s often overlooked, though, is their ability as a live act, particularly when considering their primitive equipme...

It may be oblique, but I can’t hear the song 'My Sweet Lord' without thinking of Paul Daniels. This bizarre mental association came about as a result of a conversation I had with him when he played Mostly Comedy last year. We were walking from our then-venue the Market Theatre to our new venue, The Sun Hotel, to record our podcast, when I brought up the subject of George Harrison. I try to find common ground whenever someone new plays our club, particularly when we're interviewing them for our podcast. Invariably for me, this tends to involve The Beatles when it can (e.g. when interviewing Kevin Eldon – who had their music as his Mastermind specialist subject – and Phill Jupitus – who’s friends with Neil Innes of the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, who were in the film 'Magical Mystery Tour'); it’s often tenuous, but it works. I was aware that Harrison used to live in the same town as Daniels – Henley-on-Thames – and asked Paul if he’d eve...

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 shoul d that say ' insect ' ?). Not only was he bold enough to take a chance on a band everyone else had turned down, p urely because he liked their personalit y ; 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 s...

Is this the dullest album cover of all time? I may be consumed with anti-Eighties bias. The sleeve for the Beatles’ White Album has a lot less going on. I’d argue, however, that a minimalistic cover with just the artist’s name embossed on it and a limited-edition serial number is preferential to a photo of a man in a cagoule, particularly if they’re also sporting a mullet. I should clarify that I’m a fan of George Harrison. I’m also fond of all-weather wear. I just don’t think the two should have mixed in this context. George may have been an avid gardener, but when he came indoors to pose for the photographer he could have at least changed his outfit. The record itself is a feat for false advertising. Every song, bar one, was released between 1979-1989, which is a very narrow margin. A compilation that claims to contain Harrison’s finest work yet misses off My Sweet Lord and All Things Must Pass is very suspicious. I’ve never see...

This poll is rigged. At least, I think it is. It’s hard to work out. Would a vote for Ringo be a vote for Ringo, or a block vote for the rest? If so, that's not democracy. It’s like a magician misdirecting you into thinking you’ve chosen a card of your own free will. It’s a ballot worthy of Machiavelli himself. (How’s that for a reference?) I feel sorry for Ringo to a point. He gets stick for his drumming (unintentional pun) for no reason. It’s a cliché in and of itself, hence the poll. People tend to criticise his ability out of context. They forget that when it comes to their live work, he couldn’t hear the rest of the band for the fans’ screaming. His playing, like the other Beatles’, matured at an alarming rate. Pick a track from each year of their career at random and you’ll hear it. As Lennon, McCartney and Harrison’s writing became deeper and more soulful, so did Starr’s drum-work. Listen to his fills on A Day in the Life and ...

I saw an advert for McBusted’s tour today which described them as “The Ultimate Supergroup”. Who am I to argue? The combined forces of George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne could never compete with a cut-and-shut two-boyband line-up like that. The Traveling Wilburys may have had one of the most influential songwriters and cultural forces of the late 20th Century in their ranks, plus one of rock’s finest voices and an ex-Beatle – but pit them against the guy with the glasses, the guy with the hair, the guy with the hair, the guy with the hair, the guy with the hair and the guy from Strictly and there’s no competition: McBusted win by a cuntry mile.  (Misspelling intentional.) Think of the setlist. They could open with ‘All About You’ (obviously), stick ‘All About You’ in halfway through to lift the mid-show lull, then close with ‘All About You’. I’m not sure what Busted would bring to the table as I can’t remembe...

Last night, I had a very bizarre but exciting dream (don’t worry, it wasn’t sexual). I dreamt that I had been secretly drafted in to replace Paul McCartney in The Beatles. The swap was top secret. Not even John, George or Ringo knew anything about it. Presumably, my subconscious assumed that none of the Fab Four were particularly observant. The only person that was in on it was their producer, George Martin – who took me to one side when the others weren’t looking and congratulated me on a sterling effort. The only thing that Sir George was unhappy with was my hairstyle, which was exactly the same as it is in real life. He told me to brush it forward. I took his advice, though it wasn’t quite long enough to pull the style off. (Trust my subconscious to put such a mundane fly in the ointment.) It was a bit like Quantum Leap, only without Dean Stockwell cropping up to smoke a cigar and fiddle with his little electrical device . Most ...

Friday 8th August 1969. Just before noonish. Four world-famous faces convene outside EMI Studios in St. John’s Wood. Their bodies convene at the same location; it would have looked weird if they hadn't.  A stepladder is quickly set up in the centre of the main road, just a few yards from a zebra crossing. The four musicians wander down to it, the clean-shaven one kicks off his sandals and they then proceed to walk over the crossing a handful of times - the musicians, not the sandals - whilst a photographer up the ladder captures the moment. I’m referring to the cover shoot for The Beatles’ Abbey Road. Get it? Good. At that point the Fab Four were already at the tail-end of their collective career, only a few brief months from calling it a day.  They’d conquered the world (musically speaking), and in just seven years had transmuted from loveable moptops to less-loveable, even-moppier moptops – and, get this: none of them had yet r...