The remastered Beatles: You’ve got to get this into your life
“Number nine, number nine, number nine,” an engineer’s voice intones over Revolution 9, the loopy loops-laden experimental track on The Beatles’ self-titled 1968 album.
Little did John Lennon realize that the tune he dubbed “music of the future” would foreshadow Revolution 09/09/09, the day that would usher The Beatles’ entire catalog into the future with a substantial engineering overhaul, rendering the most familiar music of the modern age suddenly astonishing and revelatory.
The remastered Beatles catalog, on sale Wednesday, is the remasterpiece fans have been craving since 1987, when the band’s albums lost dimension and purity in their only wholesale transfer to CD.
A handful of scrubbed Beatles discs have bubbled up since then, most strikingly 2000’s 1 hits compilation and 2006’s brazen Love remix, but this is the first thorough catalog upgrade, a long-overdue digital reparation that restores the original vinyl’s wider midrange, pin-drop clarity and rhythmic heft. Drum beats crackle with renewed insistence, burnishing Ringo Starr’s star. Paul McCartney’s bass has more visceral punch.
Abbey Road engineers tweaked the 20th century’s most cherished songbook with surgical care, limiting reliance on “limiting,” which makes music seem louder while quashing dynamic range.
Results vary from subtle to dramatic, and the mono-stereo debate will find eternal life in the blogosphere (especially regarding Sgt. Pepper), yet the enhancements overall are undeniable.
Even new and casual fans will be tempted to splurge on the $260 16-disc stereo box set (plus DVD) and the pricier $299 13-disc mono box set, which won’t return to shelves once the initial pressing sells out.
Only the stereo discs are available individually. Cherry-picking? Start with these:
ïThe Beatles (1968). The so-called White Album sounds remarkably fresh, especially its unshackled rockers. Back in the U.S.S.R., Helter Skelter and Yer Blues cook with a furious intensity. I Will is stripped to a translucent elegance, and While My Guitar Gently Weeps rises to grander heights (and discloses a kick drum never before audible).
ïAbbey Road (1969). Rich details emerge throughout the band’s recording swansong, particularly showcasing the phenomenal strengths and interplay of McCartney and Starr. Come Together has a tougher strut, and The End explodes with rhythmic power. The textures and segues of the 16-minute medley are clearer, fully revealing a marvel of sonic architecture.
ïRevolver (1966). Every groove is revitalized, brightening Good Day Sunshine and broadening Here, There and Everywhere. The psychedelic effects in Tomorrow Never Knows nearly shimmer. And the string quartet in Eleanor Rigby? It’s now in your living room.
ïA Hard Day’s Night (1964). That opening claaaang! in the title track never sounded so vital. There’s a more robust kick to Can’t Buy Me Love. And yep, engineers didn’t plaster over the catch in McCartney’s voice on If I Fell.
ïLet It Be(1970). The controversial Phil Spector production (despised by McCartney) benefits from a simple cleansing that brightens the beautifully spacey Across the Universe, plaintive title track and muscular Get Back.
The remasters won’t be the last souvenir stop on The Beatles’ long and winding road to immortality. Fans are clamoring for a full remix and Blu-ray DVDs of the catalog. That’s years away. For now, this magical mystery tour de force breaks enough sound barriers.
Rather than cosmetically tarting up The Beatles, the scrupulous calibration has more honestly conveyed the band’s warm, uplifting, indestructible pop. What you hear isn’t technology. It’s heart.
Categories