So why is The Beatles’ Abbey Road on this best 1,000 albums ever thing?
“Polythe“Polythene Pam” was the key to my rediscovering the majesty of Abbey Road.
This might strike some as odd, perhaps many. With an album jam-packed with Beatles “Mt. Rushmore” hits like “Here Comes The Sun,” “Come Together,” and “Something,” Abbey Road is one of those elite albums that “automatically” gets placed at the top of the pile, at least by way of classic rock heads, music nerds, and critics.
Check off at least two of those for me, I guess.
But after a childhood of immersion in classic rock propaganda on Long Island radio, I entered adulthood respecting those hits – and Abbey Road along with it – more than loving it.
In my best 1,000 albums ever piece on Rubber Soul (#28), I tell the story of how that one reoriented my Beatles worldview to believing that the “mid-career” Beatles were the “truly” peak period for the band.
Then, as one tends to do, I got even older and eventually realized that all Beatles is peak period Beatles.
And to be clear, there’s a reason those hit songs have stood the test of time. These days, the delicate and graceful “Here Comes the Sun” hits me just right, versus the younger me who was often looking for music a touch (or ten) more aggressive.
And at 17 tracks, there are delights aplenty outside of those carved-in-stone Beatles testimonials. “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” is a slow and, well, heavy bluesy rocker, and I especially dig how hard George Harrison’s guitar riff goes on this one.
It was the extraordinary Get Back documentary from 2021 that finally caused me to give late-career Beatles a closer reexamination. While a healthy chunk of the doc focuses on material that would eventually be released as part of Let It Be (#208), I found myself especially leaning in every time songs popped up from Abbey Road.
On top of the pure, delightful real-life magic of seeing these four humans creating and problem-solving their way to crafting some of the best music ever to grace our planetary ecosystem, all of it allowed me to approach the music in an entirely new way.
I could not have been happier every time we got to see the actual hammer used for the sound effect in the quirky, fun as hell “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.”
I must also call out a scene that’s one of the very best I’ve ever seen in a music documentary. It’s the moment when Ringo Starr unveils “Octopus’s Garden” to George Harrison, and the two – outside of the benevolently dominating songwriting forces of Paul and John for the moment – work together to craft what would become a whimsical, childlike song for the ages.
And over time I’ve come to think of “Because” as the kind of song that came out of the Beach Boys and Beatles influencing each other during that era… but really there’s no real contest in my view. It’s heart-achingly beautiful, with its gorgeous harmonies and electric harpsichord backing.
But to cut to the chase: it’s the off-kilter, punk rock in spirit, wildly experimental back half of the album – spliced together with precision by producer George Martin – that short-circuited my brain box in the way that only that rarest pure rush of music discovery can (for a much more recent example of that happening for me, see Being Dead’s Eels, #65).
I was always something of a fan of the psychedelic, weirdo-groovy “Mean Mr Mustard,” but in giving Abbey Road a full run through, something clicked in a new way for me as that track pushes into “Polythene Pam.”
I found myself wanting more “Mean Mr Mustard” even as “Polythene Pam” and its wild rocked-up jam for the ages had me insanely engaged. But wait, all of a sudden we’re off to “She Came In Through The Bathroom Window,” a culmination of the Beatles’ entire journey and evolution in so many ways.
It’s all wonderful, moving, swinging, and I’m realizing that this frantic pace is all entirely by design, almost like a medley where every track is one of the best you’ve ever heard until – click – we’re off to the next. And then again.
We finally get a chance to catch our breath on Paul McCartney’s spotlight ballad, “Golden Slumbers.” Or do we? Nope, we’re then swept away into the epic “Carry That Weight,” as good a song as any for The Beatles’ titanic run to sail off into the sunset.
Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time
Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time
Who has been carrying that weight a long time?
I’d say it was The Beatles themselves – John, Paul, George, Ringo. They carried their entire legacy into the studio each time they attempted to create new music.
And maybe the greatest thing that Peter Jackson did with the Get Back doc was to patiently and expertly show us that the band had to carry themselves into the studio every time with their own weight, their own bodies and minds, and nothing else.
They started from scratch every time – as all artists must. But then, to paraphrase the immortal Bruce Dickinson of SNL’s gotta have more cowbell sketch fame, they would go on to smash out hit records, again and again.
Until the end. Which brings us to “The End,” the song, which follows “Carry That Weight”! Instead of what we might expect to be a funereal or nostalgic affair, it’s instead an ecstatic rocker – with an iconic guitar riff that the Beastie Boys would later liberate – that also impossibly contains a standout section with a cryptic universal thesis statement from the band.
And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love you make
How’s that for a legacy? How’s that for an album?
Pretty good.
#9 of the best 1,000 albums ever good.
Some stats & info about The Beatles – Abbey Road
- What kind of musical stylings does this album represent? British Bands, Rock Music, Psychedelic Rock, Garage Rock, Pop Music, British Invasion
- Rolling Stone’s greatest 500 albums ranking – #5
- All Music’s rating – 5 out of 5 stars
- When was Abbey Road released? 1969
- My ranking, the one you’re reading right now – #9 out of 1,000
The Beatles’ Abbey Road on Spotify
A lyrical snippet from The Beatles’ Abbey Road that’s evocative of the album in some way, maybe
Because the world is round, it turns me on because the world is round.
What does the “best 1,000 albums ever” mean and why are you doing this?
Yeah, I know it’s audacious, a little crazy (okay, maybe a lot cray cray), bordering on criminal nerdery.
But here’s what it’s NOT: a definitive list of the Greatest Albums of All-Time. This is 100% my own personal super biased, incredibly subjective review of what my top 1,000 albums are, ranked in painstaking order over the course of doing research for nearly a year, Rob from High Fidelity style. Find out more about why I embarked on a best 1,000 albums ever project.