But for most fans who aren’t just being sentimental about their first point of entry, it’s usually going to come down to a pick among five — “Rubber Soul,” “Revolver,” “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” “The Beatles” and “Abbey Road” — with the first-mentioned there sometimes being the last-cited, because that 1965 transitional LP isn’t as fully ambitious in scope as those that followed. Yet it was arguably the last Beatles record (at least until “Let It Be”) that was tossed off reasonably casually, on deadline, and not consciously aiming at being some kind of tour de force.
Which is partly why I’ve suddenly joined the stubborn minority flank of fans that has always thought of “Rubber Soul” as the best all-around effort. That could change in 15 minutes, naturally, because it happens to be The One I’m Listening To Right Now — in its very expanded form as “Rubber Soul: Special Edition Super Deluxe,” a five-LP or four-CD set that finally reached the world Friday after many years of fans’ wishing and hoping. Or it might be 15 months before I switch sides on this one and go back to the White Album.
Because there’s something about “Rubber Soul” in all of its released forms, including the substantially different original U.K. and U.S. versions, that makes for the Fabs’ most consistent listening experience. It provided — provides — a different kind of joy than the kind of whiplash that the world would get when the screaming guitar of “Taxman” gave way to borrowing the “Psycho” strings to mourn all the lonely people, and other hilariously sharp juxtapositions on “Revolver” going forward. And it’s the sound of the Beatles almost accidentally catching lightning in a bottle, before they more deliberately put their kites way, way up in the air for just about everything that followed.
There’s a shorter way to describe it: perfect. The boxed set has four distinct components, each of them incredibly necessary, whether new or old: the requisite fresh stereo remix of the U.K. album from Giles Martin and Sam Okell; a collection of studio outtakes; the U.K. track list in mono, revisited; and the American version in stereo. So, in order not just of appearance, but of what you need: The first thing to know is that the remix is essential… and compared to the boxed set, it can be had for cheap — free, really, in these days of streaming — and so there is little excuse to not give this piece a chance.
Not surprisingly, the Beatles’ mass fandom has had mixed, if primarily positive, thoughts about past Martin/Okell full-album remixes, but it’s difficult to imagine there being very many souls out there who will not regard this as a spectacular upgrade, any passing sonic quibbles aside. No Beatles album stood in more need of their touch, arguably. When George Martin previously took a whack at a new mix, he remained largely reverent toward the panning that was done to put “Soul” in stereo in the ’60s.
Revisiting that approach in the U.S. stereo reprisal here is still fun, in a quaint way: You are right in the studio with the Beatles — and half of them are on one side of you and half are on the other! But only the most perverse among us would maintain that ultra-separation is how “Rubber Soul” ought to remain forever, much less was intended as an essential part of its conception. The fresh mix is far from radical, but achieves its mission of making the album sound relevant to the ears of 2026 and 2086, while fooling you into thinking it’s just the way you’ve always heard it for years.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
