We’ve been together now for 40 years
An’ it don’t seem a day too much!
The Queen looked at the young men with amusement, the beginning of a long and surprisingly warm relationship between Paul and his Queen.
RUBBER SOUL
The Buckingham Palace investiture took place during the making of an important new album with George Martin, whose situation at EMI had changed significantly. After a long-running dispute over pay, Martin had quit as head of Parlophone that summer to start his own company, Associated Independent Recording (AIR), striking a deal with EMI whereby he would continue to produce the Beatles on a freelance basis for a producer’s royalty. It may or may not be coincidental that, with his enhanced financial stake in the band (though not an overly generous one), Martin became more involved in the creative process from this point, increasingly adding the orchestral touches that are a hallmark of the Beatles’ mature work and that do so much to raise the band above the pop herd. Indeed, their next album together was the breakthrough.
Working with George, the boys had got into the habit of delivering two LPs a year to EMI, and at the end of 1965 the company wanted a Christmas release. So it was that they went into Studio Two at EMI Abbey Road on 12 October, with few songs prepared, and worked like the devil to crash out a new record against deadline. Bearing in mind the circumstances in which it was made, the LP Rubber Soul is hugely impressive, the best work they had yet done, musically and lyrically rich, inventive, fun and exciting to listen to, a true turning point. The album title was a twist on a self-deprecating remark Paul had made after recording his song ‘I’m Down’ that summer. ‘Plastic soul, man. Plastic soul,’ he said at the end of a take, meaning his performance wasn’t soulful enough. A rubber soul would have more bounce, and Rubber Soul explodes with energy. Placed together with the album that followed it, Revolver, and the singles made at the same time, the Beatles closed the first half of their career, when they had essentially been a good little dance band, recording up-tempo love songs with adolescent lyrics, and became a far more ambitious creative unit. As has often been observed, with Rubber Soul and Revolver it was as if the Beatles stepped out of the black and white world of the early 1960s and began broadcasting in colour, with a concomitant new exuberance in their appearance and interests.
An Indian theme first insinuated itself into the Beatles sound at this stage. While shooting Help! George Harrison had taken time out to chat with the musicians hired to play in the movie’s Indian Restaurant scene. Subsequently, he had taken up the sitar, which he now played inexpertly but effectively on John’s song ‘Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)’.
There are of course ‘John songs’ and ‘Paul songs’ on Rubber Soul, both men increasingly writing on their own as well as in partnership. How much help they gave one another is sometimes disputed. While ‘Norwegian Wood’ is considered very much a John song, for example, McCartney’s recollection is that they finished it together. Paul also claims a significant hand in writing ‘In My Life’, while Lennon said McCartney only helped with the bridge. By comparison, ‘Drive My Car’, a motoring metaphor for sex, was a true collaboration, based on a melody by Paul, with John writing most of the lyrics. Paul’s bass and piano are superb. The travel theme segued into drug references on ‘Day Tripper’, which would be released as a double A-side single with Paul’s ‘We Can Work it Out’, hitting number one. The words of the latter can be read as an insight into Paul’s dominant, my way or the highway personality. In the lyrical dialogue, apparently recounting a lovers’ spat, Paul repeatedly implores his girl to ‘Try to see it my way’, warning that if she doesn’t they will be finished. John wrote the middle eight, appealing counter-intuitively for reason in this fractuous relationship, life being too short to fuss and fight, making ‘We Can Work it Out’ even more interesting. Working together in this way, Lennon and McCartney were truly complementary writers.
Side One of Rubber Soul closed with ‘Michelle’, one of the most beautiful and commercially successful songs Paul ever wrote. It was based on a party trick of improvising a smoochy love song with cod French lyrics to a finger-picking tune à la Chet Atkins. Coming over all French at a party was a good way of pulling girls. When John and Paul faced the problem of filling this new album quickly, John suggested Paul develop his party trick. He turned for help to Janet Vaughan, French teacher wife of his old school friend Ivan, who was living in London and often saw Paul socially. One evening, when Ivy and Janet went round to Wimpole Street to visit Paul and Jane, Paul asked Janet to help him with a song he was writing.
I think what happened was that Paul said he’d written a song and could I think of a Christian name of a girl – I can’t remember exactly how he put it – and then an adjective that went with it, and I think I thought of ‘Michelle my belle’. We went through different French Christian names, and then we tried to find something that would rhyme and that would qualify that. Then he said, ‘I want to say after that “These are words that go together well,”’ having decided on the belle. So I just translated it: ‘Sont les mots qui vont très bien ensemble.’ And that’s it, really.
Paul’s other ‘love songs’ on Rubber Soul are almost as strong, though different. As ‘Michelle’ is sweet, ‘You Won’t See Me’ and ‘I’m Looking Through You’ are bitter, the latter sang with anger:
I’m looking through you, where did you go?
I thought I knew you, what did I know?
You don’t look different, but you have changed.
I’m looking through you, you’re not the same.
Songwriters, like novelists, write from the point of view of characters that are often entirely or partly imagined, so it is rash to read a song too readily as autobiography. Yet Paul has made it clear in interviews that ‘You Won’t See Me’ and ‘I’m Looking Through You’ give a contemporaneous insight into his relationship with Jane Asher. This is intriguing because Jane is one of only a handful of the Beatles’ close associates who, apart from a few brief comments, has never told her story, a policy of discretion she adopted in the first flush of her romance with Paul and has stuck to, despite repeated requests by journalists and authors, myself included.* Her silence has inhibited the normally garrulous McCartney, who has said little about his time with Jane, but he has revealed that he wrote ‘I’m Looking Through You’ at Wimpole Street at a time of tension in the relationship, essentially because Jane insisted on pursuing her acting career, which took her away from London, whereas Paul wanted her to wait at home for him.
When Paul met Jane she was only 17, a former child star living at home with her parents, not sure what direction to take in adult life. In the early days Jane allowed her older, more worldly boyfriend to take the lead. Paul decided what they did, where they holidayed, even what clothes Jane wore, and she seemed happy with this. Almost three years had passed and the girl had grown into a young woman approaching 20, with her eyes set on a career as a stage actress. Paul and Jane still seemed well suited, but Jane was no longer as biddable as she had been, or as other Beatles partners were. ‘I thought they were adorable together. She was wonderful. She was a very calm person and, in the middle of all this, you felt that she was a wonderful balance for him, and you felt that she was his equal, for sure,’ comments artist Jann Haworth, who along with her husband Peter Blake had got to know the Beatles socially in recent months.
It didn’t ever feel to me as though Paul was the big deal and she was trembling along behind, whereas you felt that a bit with Pattie Boyd and some of the other gals. I mean Cynthia was left standing still, basically, by John. Whereas you felt Jane was an absolute equal to Paul and had a very supple mind. She wasn’t a dumb girl. She was really smart.
When Paul was in London recording Rubber Soul, Jane was in Bristol rehearsing a play. After Christmas she went into a Bristol Old Vic production of The Happiest