And here we are to it at last–the album that started the great race between the Fab Four and the Beach Boys wherein we, the listeners won. It’s often considered by critics to be the first truly great record the Beatles ever made, and listening to their catalogue in succession, this is the first in their catalogue that sounds like it was made by the best band in the world instead of just the most popular.
The songs are masterfully crafted instead of merely well-composed–every element of every song is just right, from the harmonium on The Word to the fuzz bass on Think For Yourself. It’s clear that in the six years since Help!, the Beatles had become true masters of their craft, knowing where to throw their punches and, more importantly, when to pull them. The restraint that they had showed on Help! is now more subtle, finding the middle ground between ballads and rock songs that had largely eluded them before.
The lyrics are also much more sophisticated even than the grown-up tunes on their previous offering. In Norwegian Wood, John tells about an affair(s) he was having in just ambiguous enough terms to turn it off from being a hit. Michelle (which has a special place in my heart for sharing a name with name) features their first dabbling in non-English lyrics, and with wonderful results. Although, in the presence of their first true masterpieces, Run For Your Life, a little song wherein the narrator threatens his beloved with serious physical harm in return for infidelity, lyrically falls flat on its face, despite its fun blues form that accompanies it.
Run For Your Life aside, Rubber Soul is an immense jump forward. Their penchant for studio trickery was born here, showing itself in the piano-as-harpsichord interlude in In My Life and the fully-panned parts made possible due to the new stereo format. Its greatsong-to-okaysong ratio is much higher than anything else before. Furthermore, it’s the first of their albums to deliver on the promise of greatness that was hinted to in fits and spurts from their earlier albums. All in all, it hold up to its reputation as the Beatles’ first true masterpiece, and if I were Brian Wilson in 1965, I would have heard the same thing he heard: an open letter from the Beatles saying, “Dear Beach Boys: It’s on.”