Ani DiFranco burst out in 1990 with a self-titled album of complex, beautiful, haunting songs characterized by a unique guitar picking style and an evocative lyrical style. Ever since, she’s spent three prolific decades experimenting with an impressive array of musical styles and themes. Her peak probably came during the late 1990s–the period most heavily represented on this list–but there’s great music everywhere along the whole path.
You’ll also notice the number of live tracks on here. DiFranco is notable for being the rare artist who is better live AND for whom that superiority actually manages to come across in recordings. In fact, I’d go so far as to suggest that Living in Clip is on the shortlist for greatest live albums of all time. It’s jam packed with great songs, most of which are the definitive takes, and almost all of which are better than their studio counterparts. Seriously, everyone should own that record.
10. Talk to Me Now (Ani DiFranco)
So many of her great songs deal with the small ways in which femininity is weaponized. It’s an interesting feature of her work, to engage seriously with the question of how patriarchy produces standards of attractiveness the hurt everyone. The way that presenting as abnormal—a shaved head, tattoos—generates danger, which is different but not separate from the dangers that come from presenting as conventionally beautiful.
Here, all she wants to do is walk around her own city, and get on with the business of her own little life, and is faced with endless harassment from men who think their attention is inherently complimentary. Men who will “stop at nothing once they know what you are worth.” The defiance in her voice is cathartic, even as you are forced to recognize that every single battle must be fought over and over again. Patriarchy doesn’t present itself as a Big Bad, to be slapped down once and then consigned to the dustbin of history. It is everywhere, ubiquitous, a constant hassle. And so she sings her strength, just to keep herself afloat.
9. Gravel (Little Plastic Castle)
While I don’t have any of her truly experimental and weird stuff on this list, I at least wanted to make sure to include Gravel, as a reminder that when she wanted, she could unleash some blistering rock and roll. It’s also a helpful corrective for anyone who ever doubted that an acoustic guitar could spit fire.
8. Untouchable Face (Living in Clip)
Unrequited love is one of the classic themes of popular music, but a vanishing few that manage to convey the experience so precisely or with such care. It features a lot of wry self-deprecation, but also a lot of vulnerability, all packaged with a simple, warm guitar line.
In this case, the difference between this version and the studio recording is primarily in the balance between the humor and the pathos. The studio version feels just a bit too heavy with t this one is a joke shared between friends, who laugh because they know the pain is real but they also know how ridiculous it all is.
7. Angry Anymore (Up Up Up Up Up Up)
The first time I saw her play live was on her tour following the release of this album. This song was the highlight of that show, and remains one of my favorite concert memories. She did it acoustic and solo, and all of its tenderness and generosity came across perfectly.
It’s a song about growing up and coming to understand yourself better. And it’s a song about how that maturity can reshape your understanding of the events that drove your childhood. To see your parents as human beings, with all the attendant imperfections, and to love them even more for those limitations.
I’ll refrain from quoting too much as I discuss these songs, because it could easily get out of hand. But I can’t let this one go past without noting one of my all-time favorite verses:
She taught me how to wage a cold war with quiet charm
But I just want to walk through my life unarmed
To accept and just get by like my father learned to do
But without all the acceptance and getting by that got my father through
The amount of depth that she manages to pack into just a few words here is just astonishing. This is an entire short story composed in less then fifty words.
This is a grim song, particularly the third verse (“I was eleven years old, he was as old as my dad. And he took something from me, I didn’t even know that I had”), but it refuses to let the pain become overwhelming. Instead, it explores the way that violence and desire are intermixed, and the ways that women find strength both through and against this effect. And so it’s certainly not an empowerment anthem—she’s wise enough to understand the danger of trading on that sort of narrative—while still helping to show how resilience can grow into something more than just ‘hanging on.’
As with most of her songs, there are quite a few versions of this one floating around, all of which give a slightly different flavor. This one is my favorite. I’ve never actually been able to figure out where it came from, though. If anyone knows, let me know!
5. Marrow (Revelling/Reckoning)
This is Ani at her biggest and brightest. As with many of her great songs, it’s poised carefully between several different and powerful emotional currents. There is joy here (it comes from the ‘Revelling’ side of the album, after all), but also a deep wellspring of pain. We struggle to stay afloat in the stormy waters, desperate to forget all of the things that hurt us, and therefore doomed to repeat them over and over again.
Back in 2009, I
that was read at Obama’s inauguration, complaining that it offered platitudes in place of politics, and in its timidity failed to live up to the moment. And I noted that this was more a flaw in the form of the inaugural poem than it was a failure of the poet. It is hard to speak truthfully to the hope embodied by a new dawn without coming to terms with all the suffering that continues to remain hidden in the dark of night. That’s why inaugural poems—which owe too much to the grandeur of the moment—are doomed to failure, while something like this song—which is free to speak honestly about just how deep we remain trapped by the mistakes of our past—would be far more appropriate to the occasion.
4. Present/Infant (Daytrotter Session)
In so many ways, music is a young person’s game—driven by the unwavering certainty of self that so often defines youth. When we are young, we race over the horizons, driven by the need to discover what else might be out there. We seek new challenges, in the hopes of showing the world what we might yet become. As we grow older, the horizons grow more distant, and we increasingly come to understand that we were often running away from ourselves as much as we were running toward the horizon. There comes a moment of reckoning, when we ask whether we can ever be comfortable in our own bodies, in the horizons that we have marked out for ourselves. When we begin to see ourselves not as isolated individuals, but instead as objects reflected back by the world that we’ve created. And we are forced to ask: does this make me happy?
In this song, we get a sort of answer, as we encounter the precociousness of youth growing into maturity, and as we find the artist learning how to grow into herself. Finding a way to dwell with her fears—accepting them without letting them rule her. Discovering that there’s still room to thrive even as she enters a new phase of life. Coming to see that beauty is what we share in our quietest moments.
3. Little Plastic Castle (Little Plastic Castle)
This is the first song of hers I ever heard. The moment the horns burst onto the scene, I was completely hooked. It’s a piece of unbridled joy, a statement of intent. Only after I dug into the rest of her catalog did I fully understand how this song fit into the arc of her career, the slyness of the lyrics, the perfect blend of ironic detachment and exultation that it embodies.
2. Both Hands (Ani DiFranco)
It’s raw, lovely, heartbreaking. Even now, after all these years, it still shocks the system. The way it creeps over you, the way the guitar fills you and then falls away. The way her voice cradles you, fills you with a swell of empathy that is almost impossible to bear. And all you can do is wonder that this young woman—just 20 years old when it was released—could understand so much, could see so deeply inside. It’s an astonishing piece of music.
(Living in Clip)
There aren’t many songs that leave me totally defenseless, no matter how many times I hear them. This is one of the few. A defiant stare. A blushing cheek. A prayer sent upward into the unyielding heavens. A poem written in the stars.
Honorable mentions:
11. Swan Dive (Little Plastic Castle)
12. Napoleon (Living in Clip)
13. Hello Birmingham (To the Teeth)
14. Fire Door (Living in Clip)
15. Buildings and Bridges (Out of Range)
16. Not a Pretty Girl (Not a Pretty Girl)
17. School Night (Revelling/Reckoning)
18. Tis of Thee (Up Up Up Up Up Up)
19. You Had Time (Out of Range)
20. Fixing Her Hair (Imperfectly)
Back in the early days of the blog, I published a series of posts ranking every Beatles song from worst to first. Recently, I’ve seen a couple more such lists popping up, and thought it might be a good time to consolidate those old posts into one comprehensive list, and make a couple minor edits along the way.
You can check out the
if you want to know the full ground rules, but the nuts and bolts is that I ranked every studio track from the British albums and the two Past Masters collections. I originally split the Abbey Road medley into its two halves but by the time I got there in the rankings had decided to think of it as one whole unit. So in this republishing, I’m consolidating it down. That means there are 205 songs for me to rank.
The most important thing to say is: this is a subjective list. I make no claim about what is truly ‘best.’ This is just what I like the most.
205. Wild Honey Pie from The White Album
So this is the worst Beatles song, though it hardly even seems fair to call it that. It’s only a minute long and is more an interlude than a song in its own right. However, it’s on the list which means I have to rank it. So here we are. And still, while it sits at the bottom, it’s hardly a bad song. And the circular feel is even a little interesting. Still, there has to be something in last place and this is it.
204. Boys from Please Please Me
Poor Ringo was left hanging out to dry with this one. His songs did improve (some) over the years, after they found a more suitable groove for his limited voice to occupy. Again, this isn’t a terrible song–the drumming is solid and the beat is fine. But the backing vocals are a little off, the “bop-shoe-op, bop-bop-shoe-op” just doesn’t work, and the guitar solo is pretty weak. And “I talk about boys, yeah” makes a heck of a lot less sense as a chorus when it’s Ringo singing instead of the Shirelles.
203. Little Child from With The Beatles
If not for John’s voice, this would easily have been their worst song. The lyrics are, well, let’s just say they’re not great. “Little child, little child, little child won’t you dance with me, I’m so sad and lonely, baby take a chance with me.” And the harmonica solo is pretty weak. And really there’s just not much positive to say. But John does sing it pretty well, so it’s rescued from being the absolute worst. Just barely.
202. You Know My Name (Look up the Number) from Past Masters, Vol 2
This song has always felt like it ran in parallel with the work that Monty Python was just starting to put together. It hits that same vaguely surreal but also strangely real note. But unlike the Pythons, the Beatles don’t really have anywhere to go with it. It’s a nice oddity, but I don’t think anything would have been lost if it was just a weird demo stuck in the middle of one of the Anthology discs.
201. Why Don’t We Do It In The Road? from The White Album
When I first listened to the White Album as a kid, this song made me very uncomfortable. I mean, jeez, “why don’t we just do it in the road?” Now that I am older, I’m no longer quite so scandalized, but still don’t find a whole lot to love here. It is fun to hear Paul getting a little down and dirty (if you’ll pardon the pun), and the first two seconds are a pretty neat little drum beat, but I could certainly have lived with a trimmed down White Album that excluded this track.
200. Dizzy Miss Lizzy from Help!
199. Bad Boy from Past Masters, Vol 1
These two songs go together pretty closely in my mind.
Both are covers. Both have the classic John rock-and-roll vocals. Both are pretty tight recordings. And both feature that chiming, piercing guitar that just drives into my skull and makes me hurt a little bit inside. “Dizzy Miss Lizzie” ranks slightly lower simply because of my my anger at its placement on Help!, right after what would have been the perfect album-closer of Yesterday. It really ruins the tender mood and I can’t help but thinking about how jarring it is, even when I listen to it outside of the album context.
198. Revolution 9 from The White Album
I used to hate this track, considering it to be total nonsense gibberish. Then, I had a phase where I convinced myself it was genius. Then I went back to hating it. I’ve settled somewhere in the middle now. There are some interesting ideas here in the pastiche. And it’s certainly interesting as a historical artifact. Still, it’s quite a bit to digest, and I’m rarely in the mood to actually sit down and listen. If I was making a list of most significant or interesting Beatles songs, this would probably be quite a bit higher as I really do think it’s compelling as a work of art. It’s just not much of a ‘song.’
197. One After 909 from Let It Be
This was an old track that they had kicking around for years before it finally showed up on Let It Be. Frankly, I don’t think it would have been missed. It’s pretty innocuous – interesting as an example of a song that would have fit perfectly into their early period played by the 1969 version of the band. So in that sense, it helps you see how they had progressed musically, even as they were finally circling back around to the simpler sort of rock and roll that had got them started. But I can’t say it really does much for me other than as a signpost. The version on Let it Be Naked is marginally better and is one of only two songs from that disc that I think is noticeably superior to the original (the other is waaaay at the other end of this list).
196. Everybody’s Trying To Be My Baby from Beatles For Sale
195. Honey Don’t from Beatles For Sale
Two covers from an album full of inessential covers. The Beatles never had a bad album, but by far the closest they came is Beatles for Sale. They look tired on the album cover, and the music sounds tired. Even the title suggests that they were a little overwhelmed by Beatlemania. These songs aren’t terrible – they just aren’t really that interesting. Ringo and George take the vocals and it isn’t really the finest moment for either, and the music is serviceable but doesn’t really jump out at you. “Honey Don’t” is clearly the better of the two, and probably could have ranked a few slots higher if it wasn’t so easy to just lump them together.
194. Money (That’s What I Want) from With The Beatles
This is one of those songs I’ve always felt like I should like more than I do. It’s a fun little song. And John does good work with the vocals. But, I don’t know. Something seems like it’s missing. There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.
193. Act Naturally from Help!
The last in series of consecutive lowly-ranked covers. It’s a nice little Ringo country-western song. There’s not really anything wrong with it. It just…you know…is kind of boring. Sorry Ringo.
192. Sie Leibt Dich from Past Masters, Vol 1
Well, it’s in German, so that’s interesting, I guess. But “She leibt dich, yeah, yeah, yeah!”? It just sounds goofy.
191. She’s a Woman from Past Masters, Vol 1
“My love don’t give me presents. I know that she’s no peasant.” That’s…not a very good line. Musically, there’s some good stuff here, but I just can’t get past that jarring combination of percussion and guitar that drives the song. It’s a technique they deployed on quite a few of those early tracks, and I’ve never been a fan. But usually there’s enough else going on around it to let it fade a bit into the background. Here, for the whole song, it’s just sitting there in the left channel: whap, whap, whap, whap, whap, until my ears start bleeding.
190. Hold Me Tight from With The Beatles
What’s the deal with Paul’s voice on this song? It really does sound like he’s got a cold or something. There’s not really much to say about this one. It’s pretty standard early-sixties fare. Inane lyrics and all. It’s as good as a lot of stuff you’ll hear on the Oldies station, but it stacks up pretty weakly against the rest of the Beatles catalog.
189. I Wanna Be Your Man from With The Beatles
Here we find yet another lowly-ranked early Ringo song. It’s a little too trebly for my tastes. The story goes that it was written in an afternoon to give to the Rolling Stones for a single, while they (the Stones) sat in and watched, impressed with the Lennon/McCartney writing team. Neither version of the song is all that impressive, though.
188. Blue Jay Way from Magical Mystery Tour
This song just doesn’t really work. It’s soooooo slowly paced and the vaguely psychedelic background effects don’t really go anywhere. It’s hard to think of it as anything more than plodding, which is not really the term you’d want to attach to a song. I do like the unintentional tension between the real lyric of “please don’t be long” and the misheard one of “please don’t belong.” But it’s one of the few Beatles songs that really has no ability to transcend its era. This is a song that could only have been recorded in the late 60s and it probably needs to stay there.
187. Love Me Do from Please Please Me
This was their first single, and it shows. But everyone has to start somewhere. I prefer the version on Please Please Me (with Andy White drumming) to the one on the first Past Masters disc (with Ringo), though it really has nothing to do with the percussion. I just think the vocals are a little tighter and John’s harmonica is better. Anyways… “Love, love me do, you know I love you, I’ll always be true, so pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease…love me do.” Yeah, it’s not their best work.
186. Kansas City/Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey! from Beatles For Sale
Many of my lowest ranked songs are, like this one, covers of some of the band’s heroes. And I appreciate their commitment to paying homage to the greats. But for me, most of these songs don’t do all that much. It’s a perfectly good cover of a perfectly good song. I would just rather listen to Lennon/McCartney singing a Lennon/McCartney song.
185. Slow Down from Past Masters, Vol 1
This song starts so promisingly. The swooping piano intro and the quick beat lead into a great vocal performance by John, featuring a couple great screams. Things do bog down a bit as the song grows a bit repetitive. But even so, this one would rank quite a bit higher if not for That Guitar Solo. I have no idea what happened here, but it starts out bad and goes downhill from there. By the end, it’s nowhere close to the beat and trails away in an agonizingly slow death. You can almost see George in the studio, desperately plucking the strings, waiting for a merciful end.
184. For You Blue from Let It Be
George definitely gets the short shrift in my rankings, with a lot of his later blues-influenced songs not faring very well. They’re not terrible – just not really my jam.
This one is the lowest of the bunch, mostly because of its relentless monotony. You could start at any moment in the song and really have no way of telling. Except for John’s solo on the slide guitar, which is pretty cool.
183. What Goes On from Rubber Soul
I really want to like this song but every year I realize it’s not quite as good as I thought the year before. I love Ringo, but his singing just doesn’t cut it here. Beyond that, the guitar playing on this song just drives me nuts. It’s just a series of short notes. It sounds like perpetually aborted attempts to actually string something together. I just can’t deal with it. And it’s a shame because there’s a good song here, waiting to be set free.
182. The Word from Rubber Soul
This song is the dividing line for me. I really feel like it should be higher, but I can’t seem to justify moving it ahead of any of the songs above it. That will be the case with virtually everything from here on. It’s ranked where it is because other songs are even better, not because it’s bad per se. To put it another way: the twenty or so songs below here are ones I could ultimately do without. But every song from now on is one that I cherish, in some way or another. “The Word” is one of the first countercultural songs, about the power of the word: love. And I appreciate it for that. But for some reason I can’t quite define, I’ve just never enjoyed the tune. Maybe it’s the almost-falsetto voice. Or the not-quite-right arrangement. They were really great about incorporating all kinds of instruments and making it fit, but the harmonium feels a little misplaced here.
181. Savoy Truffle from The White Album
Yet another lowly place George song. The horn section adds a nice effect here, and like many White Album tracks, the musicianship is pretty strong – the drumming is good and the guitar solo is well done. Still, let’s face facts: it’s a song about candy. And it inexplicably is lacking in the driving bass beat that featured so prominently in a number of other songs from this era and which could have really helped the song rock out a little more.
180. A Taste Of Honey from Please Please Me
Paul sure did love these old fashioned songs. And this track shows he could croon with the best of them. Beyond that? Eh.
179. Komm, Gib Mir Deine Hand from Past Masters, Vol 1
Not much to say here. It’s obviously got a great tune, since it’s just “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” and that’s enough to elevate it a little bit, but I can’t conceive of why I would ever choose to listen to this when I could just have the original. Novelty, I guess.
178. I Me Mine from Let It Be
Poor George, already with his fourth appearance on the list. And it’s not that I’m an anti-George guy. In fact, I think his solo career is maybe the best of the bunch. But I’m definitely a bigger fan of “I write soft, pretty songs” George than I am of “I’m into the Blues” George. This one, despite some interesting musical turns, runs into trouble with the lyrics: focusing on ego, existence, and all that stuff. Alan Pollack makes the following comment:
But here, in “I Me Mine”, I fear that George unwittingly traps himself in the pit of self righteousness, not only by his indiscriminite inclusion of “everyone” as his target, but by the essential scenario of the song in which an individual zealously condemns the entire community for being self-centered.
As a counterpoint, his solo album Living in the Material World covers many of the same themes, but with a less abrasive, preachy feel.
177. Matchbox from Past Masters, Vol 1
One of many Ringo cover tunes from the early years. It’s one of the better ones, but it still can’t really stand up to the work Lennon and McCartney were doing. The rockabilly beat elevates this a bit, but it’s really more of a placeholder than anything else.
176. Not A Second Time from With The Beatles
I’m a little conflicted on this song. At times it sounds like a close match to some of their weakest early efforts. At others, it seems to hint at the complexity to come. The instrumentation is unobtrusive, to the point of feeling a little lackluster, but maybe that’s the strength of the song – that John is trying to convince her (and himself) that he’s not going to stand for her nonsense any longer but just doesn’t have the willpower to make it stick. There’s an interesting (if somewhat esoteric) take on the song .
175. Drive My Car from Rubber Soul
I suspect that this is one of the first songs where my low ranking will conflict with a substantial number of Beatles listeners. I don’t know – it just doesn’t do it for me. The “beep beep, beep beep yeah” thing is annoying. And, for some reason, I just can’t deal with Paul’s vocals. They sound atonal, almost grating. All that said, I love the bass, and the piano over the chorus is quite nice.
174. What You’re Doing from Beatles For Sale
It’s got a decent little guitar riff, and the opening drum beat is very solid. This is one of those songs that may have received a lower ranking than it truly deserves, simply out of frustration at what it could have been. This has some of the elements of a great little Spector-esque song that would really come over the top. But instead, it just hints at that without ever taking off. The guitar solo in the middle is pretty weak, and the melody is just inexplicably a little bit off. A better production of the song could really have bumped it up a lot, but the version we actually got is just a testament to the fact that even The Beatles made mistakes sometimes.
173. Another Girl from Help!
Don’t really have much to say about this one. Nothing spectacular. I guess it shows how good the Beatles were that their thrown-together songs, rushed to be ready for the movie, could still be pretty good.
172. Dr. Robert from Revolver
There are three basic themes in rock and roll. 1) I’ 2) M 3) I have a doctor who prescribes me crazy drugs. This song falls into the third category. So there’s that. It’s got a nice little beat and the “well, well, well, I’m feeling fine” segment is among the best moments on Revolver. Still, it’s definitely the weakest track from the album (which really is praising with a faint damn)
171. Roll Over Beethoven from With The Beatles
There’s really nothing wrong with this song. It’s a great cover, with some nice guitar-work and one of George’s best vocal performances of the early years. So why’s it so low? It’s more to do with my personal tastes than anything else. The Beatles always seem best to me when they’re breaking new ground, or when they’re delving back into less rock-oriented genres. It may seem weird, but The Beatles as a straight-up rock band have always been the least impressive to me. So this is a faithful translation of Chuck Berry, but I guess I’d just rather hear them cover Smokey Robinson.
170. Love You Too from Revolver
The first song on which they really put the sitar to use. It doesn’t have quite the appeal of the other sitar-songs, though. This is due mostly to the fact that it is very close to the genuine article where a song like Norwegian Wood is really just a regular Beatles song with the sitar as an extra instrument. Even “Within You, Without You” is really two separate musical portions, one the droning Indian-influenced background and the other a George Martin orchestrated, and very Western classical score. So, while I find “Love You To” to be interesting in its faithful effort, I just can’t really get into it. My musical tastes are pretty decidedly western, so I enjoy harmonies and melodies. Which means this is one of a number of Beatles songs where I can appreciate the artistry without necessarily wanting to listen to it all the time.
169. All Together Now from Yellow Submarine
I don’t get mad at this song for being ridiculous, over-the-top, and silly. It’s meant to be that and it works just fine on those terms. It’s just that I have to be in the mood for a silly song to really have any desire to listen to it. And while those moods aren’t exactly uncommon, this song can’t beat out the majority of their catalogue which are more versatile and meaningful. But seriously, who doesn’t love the Yellow Submarine movie?
168. I’m Happy Just To Dance With You from A Hard Day’s Night
167. Do You Want To Know A Secret from Please Please Me
These songs would be higher if they just didn’t feel so precious.
They’re great little 2-minute pop songs, but just a little bit too much to handle. “Do You Want to Know a Secret” in particular has an interesting chord progression and the little introduction “You’ll never know how much I you’ll never know how much I really care” which is never returned to. Both are sung by George, for what it’s worth.
166. The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill from The White Album
Let’s get it out of the way: the three seconds when Yoko sings drag this song down a bit. I really do like Yoko a lot– she has done some genuinely interesting work both visually and musically over the years. But this song really could have done without her. As for the rest of it, it’s wacky, zany, maybe even kooky. I like the tune fine, and vaguely metaphoric “Shooting an Elephant”-esque story is fine, but it’s not one of their stronger songs.
165. Tell Me What You See from Help!
I really wish this song was better. The arrangement is a little lackluster, and on about a third of the lines, the vocals are just terrible. It almost sounds like they’re trying to spit…out…each…word…sep…er…ate…ly… and enunciate perfectly, which is not particularly what I’m looking for in my rock and roll. It’s really a shame because it’s a beautiful song, particularly the “look into these eyes now” section. A little bit better done and this could have jumped up quite a few spots.
164. I Want You (She’s So Heavy) from Abbey Road
When I’m in the right mood, I really enjoy this song. When I’m not, I wonder who decided that they needed to spend 8 minutes on the subject of “I want you, I want you so bad it’s driving me mad. She’s so heavy.” It’s technically very well done, with a neat little bass line, some fine drumming, nice guitar flourishes, a well-placed organ, and the heavy, almost bruising extended coda. Also, I like it as a counterpoint to the medley which dominates side-two. Back in the days of records that you had to actually get up and turn over, there was something appealing about the symmetry (or lack thereof) in one side being a bunch of tiny songs melded to make one extended song, while the other is a very short song extended for a very long time.
163. Baby It’s You from Please Please Me
A cover from their first album. I’ll admit that I haven’t heard the original so I’m not sure what to compare it to. It does seem like a song more suited to a woman’s voice, but in spite of that, John does a really fantastic making it his own. It’s got a great 50’s feel to it with the sha-la-las and John’s flourishes. They would soon move on to bigger and better things, but if they had never moved past this kind of stuff, they still would have been a pretty great band.
162. I’m Down from Past Masters, Vol 1
161. Long Tall Sally from Past Masters, Vol 1
I never used to like these two songs all that much (see my comments on “Roll Over Beethoven”) but I’ve come around on them a bit. They’re frantically paced and feature some of Paul’s best rock-and-roll vocal performances. “Long Tall Sally” was their usual show-closer, and was replaced by “I’m Down” for some of their last concerts. It’s one of the few situations where I can imagine that The Beatles live would be even better than the studio versions. Also, my brother’s band used to do a cover of “I’m Down” that I really enjoyed.
160. Devil In Her Heart from With The Beatles
Not their most impressive cover, but not too shabby either. The back-and-forth dialogue between John and Paul who warn George “she’s got the Devil in her heart,” and George who insists “no, she’s an angel sent to me” is a little cutesy, but it works.
159. Honey Pie from The White Album
One of Paul’s many attempts to re-create the music his father loved. It’s got a nicely loping feel, and would feel perfectly in place on one of Paul’s solo albums from the seventies. Which can be either a good or bad thing, depending on how you feel about the post-Beatles Paul. It’s a pleasant-enough song, though it doesn’t knock my socks off.
158. You Like Me Too Much from Help!
Just a nice song by George. I really enjoy the way the harmony and the rising cymbals from the “it’s nice when you believe me / If you leave me” section transition flawlessly into the resumption of the tone of the verse as George’s voice emerges alone: “I will follow you and bring you back…” And I really enjoy the piano which drives the song and gets the centerstage for the middle of the song.
157. Good Night from The White Album
Too much orchestration. Too much with all the background vocals. But in spite of that, this is one of the few Ringo songs where his voice is a perfect match. It just makes you feel good, safe even, to listen. It’s a great lullaby. One thing: it really is a perfect fit to end the White Album, especially given that “Revolution #9” is the second-to-last song. After the madness of that track, having such an old-fashioned, yes, even schmaltzy song, is a palate-cleanser, leaving you free to end the album, turn off the lights, and go to sleep unfettered.
156. Her Majesty from Abbey Road
At just 23 seconds, it’s easily the shortest Beatles track. Originally planned as a connector to follow “Mean Mr. Mustard,” it starts with a single chord which would have been the final sound of the previous track. Then, it’s just Paul and his acoustic guitar, singing a little ditty. The story goes that they had no intention of saving it but someone in the studio liked it so much they tacked in on the end and everyone ended up agreeing that it provided just the right amount of comic and emotional relief. The medley is clearly their crowning achievement, and a fitting end to their career, but it might be just a little bit too much on its own. The long pause at its conclusion gives everyone a chance to catch their breath, and then drops this song on you, just to remind you that The Beatles are as clever and fun as they are musically talented.
155. Mr. Moonlight from Beatles For Sale
I know a number of folks who would put this among their least favorites. I can understand why. It’s a cover and feels a bit out-of-place with the rest of the Beatles work, particularly with the weird Hammond organ instrumental bridge. But, for some reason, I am strangely attached to the song. I really enjoy the bass/drum dum-dum-dum-dum-BAM lead-up to John belting out “Mr. Moonlight” which is reversed at the end of the bridge, with the drum-beat and then a series of bass notes.
154. Dig It from Let It Be
153. Maggie Mae from Let It Be
These are hardly songs at all, just snippets tossed onto “Let It Be” to help evoke an organic feeling. It was envisioned as an album about the making of an album, thus the inclusion of some of the more playful moments. However, while these are songlets more than songs, they are not throwaways. Both are a bit of fun, musically and lyrically. “Dig It” represents the jam sessions, with playful, even silly lyrics, and a rising sound. “Maggie Mae” is a fun harmony, with John and Paul doing their best to make Henry Higgins scream. An important consideration is the placement of these songs on the album. They bookend “Let It Be” which is very clearly a very powerful, but possibly overly emotional, song. Placing these two on either side of it provides a little relief and helps to lighten the mood a bit.
152. When I Get Home from A Hard Day’s Night
I like the sound of this song, and John’s “I’ll love her more” is devastating, but it loses a whole lot of points for the lyrics. “Whoa-oh, ahhhh.” And then “I’m gonna love her til the cows come home.” Come on guys.
151. Chains from Please Please Me
A great old Goffin/King song. Nothing particularly special going on here, though it’s one of George’s nicer vocals from the early years.
150. Because from Abbey Road
One of those songs that I’ve always felt that I should like more. It’s very pretty. The multi-tracked three-part harmony is great. But it just doesn’t do that much for me, and I don’t really know why. Part of it is that, like most of Abbey Road, when listened to by itself it is not nearly as enjoyable as when listening to the entire album. This is clearly true for the medley, but I think it’s also the case for every song: the composite exceeds the sum of the parts.
149. Ask Me Why from Please Please Me
One of their least-sophisticated sounding songs. Also one of their first compositions, which may be closely connected. The lyrics aren’t anything impressive, but the singing is lovely, and on closer listen, you realize that the progression is a little more complicated than it might seem at first. The verses are virtually identical, but they break off at different points to move into either the chorus or the bridge, depending on the location in the song. Moreover, the chorus flits in and out, almost dropping in at random, and exiting in quite different fashion. The first time it ends abruptly, allowing for a sharp return to the verse. The second and third times, it lingers, easing into the bridge and then the fadeout. These changes are minor, but in my mind, they give it just enough weight to sustain it.
148. Taxman from Revolver
It’s a little too repetitive for me, with the same guitar riff driving the whole song. When the second guitar takes on a larger role toward the end, it really helps, but a little more variation in percussion throughout the song would have been great to alter the tone a bit. In spite of that, the lyrics are clever (if weirdly right wing, but hey, it was a very different time) and the guitar interlude is great.
147. Every Little Thing from Beatles For Sale
I love the opening guitar. Pretty standard fare otherwise. Two minutes, double-tracked vocals by John, a John/Paul duet for the chorus. He loves her, she’s great, life will be good from now on because they’re together. This will never be among my favorites, but it’s solid mid-album filler.
146. Come Together from Abbey Road
Alright, this is probably a lot lower than most people would put this song. What can I say? It just doesn’t do it for me. For all that I love the bass line and John’s spooky lyrics and the guitar riff as he sings “come together…right now…over me,” the song just sounds a little tired, or maybe quiet. It feels like it ought to be coming after you but instead it just treads water. And the outro seems far too long to me. Still a good song, but I rarely find myself thinking “I really should listen to ‘Come Together’ right now.”
145. Misery from Please Please Me
I like this song more than I probably ought to. There’s nothing particularly impressive about it, other than the general impressiveness that goes along with all of their early work. That said, it’s got a great beat, the jauntiness of which provides a nice counterpoint to the downbeat lyrics. And for some reason I just love the descending piano notes that punctuate the bridges.
144. Yes It Is from Past Masters, Vol 1
I like a lot of things about this song, but it loses substantial points because John sounds so bored. Admittedly, the motif of the song is languorous sadness, but he just sounds uninterested more than anything else. It’s not until the chorus that you remember just how great a singer he is. From that point on, the three-part harmony is much stronger, and the emotional impact of the song is clear. But those first 45 seconds or so really drag it down for me.
143. I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party from Beatles For Sale
I really love the chorus to this song. However, the rest of it just doesn’t do much for me. The background harmonies are pleasant, and the guitar solo is nice, but for some reason the vocals just don’t mesh together right. It all sounds a little flat to me (especially on the line “I think I’ll take a walk and look for her” where they unfortunately try to rhyme “care,” “there,” and “her”). Still, that chorus is something else. Really fantastic John/Paul melody.
142. I Need You from Help!
This is a nice little song, though it doesn’t really stun me at all. I have to say that I can’t really get into the organ or whatever it is that is the primary background instrument. It’s more distracting to me than anything else. George provides serviceable vocals, and the low-key tone works fine to convey the feeling of gentle longing.
141. Oh! Darling from Abbey Road
I go back and forth on this song. I love Paul’s vocal performance – it sounds so ragged and fierce. But it also feels kind of tired. And it’s got the annoying single-guitar-note-as-percussion thing going on. Which I really dislike. When I’m in the mood, it would be ranked higher, and when I’m not, it would be quite a bit lower. So I’m putting it here as a compromise.
140. Till There Was You from With The Beatles
Paul really loved these old show tunes, and he does sing them very well. And George plays a nice guitar, too. Though, for some reason, Paul’s pronunciation of ‘saw’ as ‘sarr’ just drives me up the wall.
139. Birthday from The White Album
Alright, who doesn’t listen to this song on their birthday? I sure do. It’s got a great guitar riff (one of their best, actually. The Beatles never really were that much about guitar riffs), but it doesn’t really do much beyond that.
138. Run For Your Life from Rubber Soul
I have a tough time getting over the misogynistic lyrics. I try to see it as part of the many dualisms in John’s personality (especially given it’s placement on an album with “The Word”), and academically, that makes sense to me, but it’s hard to really like a song about tracking down and hurting a woman. Y’know? Other than that, it’s a really good song.
137. This Boy from Past Masters, Vol 1
Gets extra points for its placement in A Hard Day’s Night. Ringo’s stroll around town while the song plays is just perfect. It’s got a great three-part harmony, and some very nice John solo lyrics. It goes very well with “Yes It Is,” another pretty three-part harmony
136. I’ll Get You from Past Masters, Vol 1
This is one of those “could be a lot higher or could be a lot lower depending on my mood” songs. It’s fairly standard early-Beatles fare, albeit a pretty solid example. But the harmonies are great, I love the opening line “Imagine I’m in love with you” with its presaging of “Imagine” almost a decade later, and I like that the harmonica becomes basically a rhythm instrument, never taking the mainstage but always in the background guiding the tune. And it’s fun to listen to them stumble on the words, but just plug along in the bridge (1:14 to 1:18).
135. Words Of Love from Beatles For Sale
One of my favorite Buddy Holly songs, and they do a pleasant cover. It’s not substantially different than the original, though the harmonies (particularly as the song fades) are quite nice.
134. Rocky Racoon from The White Album
A lot of people don’t like this song, and I totally understand why. It’s almost a guilty pleasure for me. Still, I think people get too caught up in the silly lyrics, and the meandering half-singing half-talking, not-quite-on-a-beat introduction. The vaguely country feel is pleasantly done, and the musical interludes (the harmonica moving to the front for one bar, the piano solo, which makes you feel like you’re in a saloon, etc.) are perfect. And, despite the fact that the song is basically three and a half minutes of the same beat, it doesn’t sound monotonous
133. Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite! from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
My favorite part of this song is the circus-like atmosphere in the middle when everything sounds like it’s going in circles. The imagery of the song is fantastic, and it only improves it to know that it’s basically all cribbed from an old poster John had. Talk about extracting genius from the mundane… Oh, and that crazy section of looped sounds? They recorded it, cut the tape into snippets, tossed them in the air, and re-assembled them at random. Delightful.
132. Tell Me Why from A Hard Day’s Night
I see this as the representative example of the Beatles’ early period. They have better songs and worse songs, and this one is pretty much right in the middle. It doesn’t really go anywhere new, but it isn’t totally conventional. It’s got a great harmony, some nice drumming to hold the beat, and an occasional guitar flourish from George. It’s got some of the bitterness and anger that set The Beatles (and John in particular) apart from many other contemporary artists, but it doesn’t feel as visceral as some of their very best songs from this period. I can’t imagine this is anyone’s favorite Beatles song, but I also can’t imagine anyone who hates it.
131. Only A Northern Song from Yellow Submarine
I go back and forth a bit with this one. At times I really enjoy the melody, the chaotic background sounds, and the slyly self-deprecating lyrics. At others it sounds slooooooow, the background is distracting, and the lyrics seem a little too accurate to be ironic. The song is about how George constantly got pushed into the background as a songwriter, and about the deal they had signed with meant they didn’t actually own any of their music (they all were owned by Northern Songs Ltd.), which seems pretty unfair, and eventually led to Michael Jackson owning the rights to all the Beatles songs. Doh!
130. Baby’s In Black from Beatles For Sale
Let’s begin with “oh how long will it take til she see the mistake she has made” – just a fantastic John/Paul harmony. This song is ranked as highly as it is almost solely for the power of that line. The rest of it is decent, though after many years I’m still undecided about the guitar solo. Unlike most George solos, which provide a subtle twist on the main theme, this one goes off into the woods and spins in circles by itself. While it’s a little jarring, the solo, combined with the plodding, waltz-but-not-quite-a-waltz beat give the song a pleasantly chaotic feel.
129. Flying from Magical Mystery Tour
It’s an instrumental, but it really just sounds like they never got around to finishing the song and adding words. The result is a half-improvised take around some very slight changes in chords. And the music only last about 90 seconds, with another 40 seconds of sound effects as it fades into the distance. All that said, I really enjoy the tune, as well as the slightly bouncy guitar that chugs along. I often find myself humming the tune for hours (or even days) after listening to it, and that should count for something, shouldn’t it?
128. The Night Before from Help!
When I was very very young, this was among my favorites. Then, for a very long time I more or less forgot about it and it was relegated to the bottom of the list. Listening to it closely again for this project, I was reminded of how solid a song it really is. Great vocals by Paul, great drumming by Ringo, lovely background vocals. A devastating little song about betrayal.
127. There’s A Place from Please Please Me
Opens with a great harmonica lick and takes off from there. The drum counterpart when they sing “and it’s my mind” is perfect. And, I think the harmony between John and the backing vocals is perfectly discordant. They track along with each other, but for the verses John is slightly off. Paul and George create the framework while John extemporizes. And then, when they join together for the chorus, it has an even greater effect.
126. You’re Gonna Lose That Girl from Help!
Great background vocals is what sets this song apart for me. Paul and George follow closely behind John, echoing his lyrics, kicking in on each line a second or two before John finishes to create a lovely layered effect.
125. The Inner Light from Past Masters, Vol 2
Here’s something that doesn’t sound the same as the rest of their songs. One of George’s Indian-influenced songs, all the backing instruments are Indian and that lilting whatever-it-is that forms the basis of the introduction and appears occasionally through the rest of the song is really something else. It sounds almost human at times. The lyrics are typical spirtual-George fare: “See all without looking, do all without doing.” This was the B-side for Lady Madonna. Could they have found two more different-sounding songs to put together?
124. Your Mother Should Know from Magical Mystery Tour
Another one of Paul’s excursion into the dance hall songs of yesteryear. Still, it also clearly benefits from the late 60s musical scene, with a great little bass line, the strong keyboards that drive the song, and the harmonium interludes. It also benefits from a strong ending, just rolling along for the first 1:45 and then suddenly kicking it up a notch as the drums play a much more prominent role in the final verse.
123. Maxwell’s Silver Hammer from Abbey Road
So the synthesizer is almost ridiculously outdated. So the song is cutesy and yet-another Paul tribute to his father’s music. So it’s about a serial-killer. So what? It’s a great song. The bassline is fantastic, Paul’s voice has just the right amount of sly self-awareness, and the chorus is great. It’s an interesting counterpoint to John’s “Instant Karma!” which came out around the same time. Same theme: slightly different approach.
122. Thank You Girl from Past Masters, Vol 1
An early, short song. It’s one of their happier “gee I love love” songs, which I enjoy. I especially like that it’s not about how she’s pretty, but instead about how he likes being with her, and how she makes him feel good. I really like Ringo’s drumming here, too.
121. I Want to Tell You from Revolver
The fade-in opening is used here to great effect, giving the song the feel of something much larger than the simple two-and-a-half minutes that you hear. George said a few years later that he got it exactly wrong. From the Eastern perspective he would soon adopt, it should be “it isn’t me, it’s just my mind.” It’s funny that he stumbled into a line so radically opposite what he would so believe a few years later.
120. I’m A Loser from Beatles For Sale
Their first serious foray into a folk-inspired sound, but the heart of this song is John at his cuttingly bitter best. Unlike some of his other unhappy-love songs, this one is not an attack on the woman who hurt him, but is almost entirely directed inward. He noted that this was of his first truly introspective songs, and it comes through clearly.
119. Don’t Bother Me from With The Beatles
George’s first song, which I’ve always enjoyed quite a bit. He described it as an exercise in songwriting, to see if he could do it, and didn’t give it much more credit than that. I agree that it’s not particularly sophisticated, but it’s got a nice minor-key sound to it, and the bleakness of the lyrics are a nice counterpoint to the mostly-optimistic, almost gleeful, Lennon/McCartney songs from their early albums.
118. It’s Only Love from Help!
John didn’t think much of this song in his later days, considering it a throwaway. While I think that criticism is too harsh, I do sort of see where he’s coming from. Though I really enjoy the song, it just doesn’t have enough substance to break into the top 100 for me.
117. I Should Have Known Better from A Hard Day’s Night
The double-tracked vocals from John where he harmonizes with himself on “Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii should have…” is pretty much the entire reason why I love this song. The rest of it is pleasant enough, with a nice bit of harmonica on the side, but it wouldn’t really stick out from any number of other early songs otherwise.
116. Wait from Rubber Soul
This is a song from the Help! sessions, brought in to bring Rubber Soul up to 14 songs to meet the deadline. Therefore, it’s commonly referred to as being a little out of place, as being on the wrong side of their breakthrough. Frankly, I don’t see it. It’s not the strongest track on the record, but it’s not the weakest, either. The subject-matter is pretty simple (yet another take on “I’ve been away, now I’m coming back”), but the percussion (with a tambourine and some nice drum rolls) and the harmonies fit right in with the more sophisticated sounds of the rest of the record.
115. No Reply from Beatles For Sale
A strangely melancholic album-opener. While most of their early albums kicked off with optimistic rockers, this one suggested that things were changing. Not only is the sound different (the Dylan influence is clear), the subject-matter is along the lines of classic John: “why have you ruined my life?” — usually saved for much later in the album, or for a b-side to a more rollicking single. The sound they put together for the quick bursts of “I nearly died!” is pretty amazing, and the bridge “If I were you, I’d realize…” is just fantastic.
114. You Won’t See Me from Rubber Soul
A great song about lost love from Paul. It’s more wistful and less accusatory than similar-themed ones from John (“No Reply,” “You Can’t Do That,” etc.). Here, Paul simply tries to convince her that he is lost without her, that she should give it more of a chance. It’s a group effort, with some lovely singing by Paul, some nice harmonies, and a couple great drumming sections (particularly the “time after time…” section).
113. When I’m Sixty-Four from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
This song, more than almost any other, really defines Sgt. Pepper for me. Not because it’s my favorite, and not because it exemplifies the counterculture themes of the time. Precisely the opposite, in fact. It’s fascinating that the biggest band in the world could release an album containing this song, and have it be lauded as cutting-edge, as the defining sound of a new generation. “We’re going to release anything we want, in any style, and you’re going to love it.” In a way, the album became a focal point for the counterculture precisely because it was so unique in its combination of different styles. “If it feels good, do it” pretty easily translates into “if it sounds good, play it” after all. So here we have a little bit of old-fashioned camp on perhaps the most influential rock album of all-time. As it should be…
112. Don’t Pass Me By from The White Album
Ringo’s first real writing credit, and I think it’s a shame it took until 1968. Sure, it’s not the most complex song ever, and sure it’s a little silly, but it really does have a nice tune, and that fiddle gives the song such a perfect country-western feel. The song had been floating around for at least a couple years before the White Album and I tend to think it never would have been released if they hadn’t made a sprawling double-album. So while that album does receive some fair accusations of bloat, I mostly side with Paul’s statement on the Anthology series: “it’s the bloody Beatles White Album. Shut up.” Everybody probably has a couple tracks they could do without, but one person’s filler is another person’s favorite track.
111. The Ballad of John and Yoko from Past Masters, Vol 2
The neat thing about this song is that it was recorded in a single session by John and Paul alone (and some nice drumming by Macca, no less), in the spring of 1969. I think it shows that in spite of the other stuff going on (the impending breakup) things were not always as tense as all that. This is just the sound of two friends making a song off the cuff, and having a good time doing it. By the way, in a song skewering the press, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that John chooses the phrase “they’re gonna crucify me” given the blow-up over his “bigger than Jesus” comments a couple years before.
110. Back In The U.S.S.R. from The White Album
Paul’s spoof on the Beach Boys and Chuck Berry, and also one of the more rocking songs from the White Album. I do wish the bass was given a little more prominence. There’s this great beat buried down there. How they managed to release this song and not have the Red Scare folks come after them in a serious way, I don’t really understand. I mean, obviously it’s not meant to be taken at face value, but since when were those folks known for getting the joke?
109. Within You Without You from Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
This song is a stunning bit of fusion. An Indian raga overlaid with a Western melody. I understand (and to some extent agree with) all of the complaints. From one side, it’s a curiously atonal song, a let-down in the middle of a rock album. From another side, it’s the musical equivalent of curry powder, the Anglicized variation on the Indian original. And there are definitely times when I’m listening to Sgt. Pepper and find it a bit of drag in the middle. But most of the time, I try to appreciate it on its own terms, as a hybrid of cultures and musical styles that is almost stunningly complex in its amalgamation of these perspectives. And it’s really quite pretty, too.
108. I Saw Her Standing There from Please Please Me
The opener for their first album, and what a great opener it is. A great rock and roll song, not just for the time, but for all-time. It’s got the handclaps, a driving drum beat, a nice scream, and some great guitar-work by George. And for a song about seeing a girl across the dance-floor, it’s riddled with sexual tension. The not-so-hidden naughtiness in the line “She was just seventeen, you know what I mean” gives the song just the right amount of edge. So why isn’t it ranked even higher? Well, because all the other songs are even better.
107. Yer Blues from The White Album
Jeez, sometimes you have to wonder how tough it must have been to live inside John’s head. This song punches you in the gut a few times and then kicks you to the curb. It’s crazy to listen to this and realize that this is the same band that only a couple years ago was singing “Love Me Do.” Or, to put it another way, it’s crazy to listen to this song and have the very next song be “Mother Nature’s Son.” Talk about versatility.
106. I’ll Cry Instead from A Hard Day’s Night
Under two minutes, is only two verses, and has such a quick ending (no outro at all) that if you blink you might miss it. It’s got a great country/bluesy feel, and John is at his misanthropic best. The moment with about 10 seconds left when the guitars disappear briefly and it’s just John singing “show you what you’re loving man can do” is great stuff.
105. Good Day Sunshine from Revolver
The intro to this one is what does it for me. That rising piano, the quick drum beats, and then the “good day sunshine…” I just can’t help but smile. And it probably shouldn’t get extra points for this, but whatever: the transition between the end of this one and the bursting out of the guitar from “And Your Bird Can Sing” is among my all-time favorite transitions.
104. I Call Your Name from Past Masters, Vol 1
The weird thing about this one is that I didn’t hear the Beatles version until long after I had grown accustomed to it as a Mamas and the Papas song. It almost sounds like a totally different song when done by Mama Cass. I like them both, but I probably slightly prefer John’s take. And if you toss in a little bit of George on the guitar…you’ve got a really great song.
103. You Can’t Do That from A Hard Day’s Night
Another John song that takes fear of losing love in a slightly dangerous direction. Also, another John song that deals with his worries about how others will think: “but if they’d seen you talking that way they’d laugh in my face.” It’s a song about being angry, not about being sad. John never mentions how he actually, y’know, feels about his ladyfriend. It’s all jealousy, worrying about what others will think, etc. Musically, it’s got a great beat, a heavier sound, and George really rocking out the guitar. It’s a little too choppy for my tastes, but still a great song.
102. Long, Long, Long from The White Album
This song always struck me as a failure of album placement. It’s just so quiet, and it immediately follows the sensory assault that is “Helter Skelter.” But over the years–especially once I moved from analog records to digital music and could therefore listen to the song on its own a bit more easily–it has grown on me a lot. Turn up the volume and you’ll get a really beautiful tune, and a surprisingly touching bass riff. Elliott Smith loved this song, and you can really see why.
101. Dig A Pony from Let It Be
Full of nonsense John lyrics, and a great guitar interplay. This song has always seemed to me like it could have been much better. It’s a little ragged and a little repetitive, and the nonsense lyrics from John might have been better. For instance “you can radiate anything you are” is great, but I can’t say I get “you can syndicate any boat you row.” But forcing myself to judge it on its own merits, rather than on my imagined scale of what could have been, I’m forced to accept that it’s a great song, flaws and all. Especially the “All I want is you…” bit.
100. All I’ve Got To Do from With The Beatles
One of the best ‘filler’ tracks from their early period. It doesn’t do much to add to the legend of the band, and fills no crucial gaps in their catalog. It’s simply a great pop song. John really lets go in the bridge, and then pulls it back in for the verse. And the song fades with his “mmm mmm mmm’s” and you just want to play it again…
99. From Me to You from Past Masters, Vol 1
One of their first big songs, in the days before Beatlemania truly hit. It’s a pretty simple love song (well, as simple as you can expect from the Beatles). It’s written to “you” to emphasize the closeness to the fans. It’s got the great harmonies. It’s the sort of song that can really make you understand why so many teenage girls fell in love with these guys.
98. Old Brown Shoe from Past Masters, Vol 2
This song, more than any other, probably fared the best in my final results compared to my initial thoughts. Since I still had trouble thinking of it as anything other than a throwaway tucked on the end of the second Past Masters, I was amazed to discover that it comfortably beat out some songs I’ve loved for years. It’s got a great b}