Abbey Road: The Beatles Final Studio Recording

All Things Music Plus+
Sep 22
14 min read

Updated: Oct 18

# ALL THINGS MUSIC PLUS+ 5/5 (MUST-HAVE!)

Abbey Road is the eleventh studio album by The Beatles, released on September 26, 1969, in the UK (October 1 in the US). It debuted on the UK Albums chart at #1 and stayed there for 11 weeks, before being displaced to number 2 for one week by the Rolling Stones debuting at the top with Let It Bleed. However, the following week - which was the week of Christmas - Abbey Road returned to the top for another 6 weeks, completing 17 weeks at the top. In the US, it reached #1 on the Billboard 200 Top LP's chart for 11 non-consecutive weeks. It is #1 on the ALL THINGS MUSIC PLUS+ list.

Abbey Road is widely regarded as one of The Beatles' most tightly constructed albums, although the band was barely operating as a functioning unit at the time. The two album sides are quite different in character. Side one is a collection of unconnected tracks, while most of side two consists of a long suite of compositions, many of them being relatively short and segued together. The main impetus behind the suite approach was to incorporate the various short and incomplete Lennon and McCartney compositions the group had available into an effective part of the album.

Getting Back Together (The Beatles)

"I think before the Abbey Road sessions it was like we should put down the boxing gloves and try and just get it together and really make a very special album." ~ Paul McCartney

Following the chaotic recording sessions for the planned Get Back project (eventually rebranded and issued as Let It Be), Paul McCartney proposed to George Martin that the band reunite to create an album in their classic collaborative style, unmarred by the tensions that had escalated since Brian Epstein's passing and persisted through the White Album's production. Martin consented, on the condition that he could oversee the work his way.

Let It Be was such an unhappy record, even though there are some great songs on it, that I really believed that was the end of The Beatles, and I assumed that I would never work with them again. I thought, ‘What a shame to end like this.’ So I was quite surprised when Paul rang me up and said, ‘We’re going to make another record – would you like to produce it?’ My immediate answer was: ‘Only if you let me produce it the way we used to.’ He said, ‘We will, we want to.’ – ‘John included?’ – ‘Yes, honestly.’ So I said, ‘Well, if you really want to, let’s do it. Let’s get together again.’ It was a very happy record. I guess it was happy because everybody thought it was going to be the last. George Martin – From “The Complete Beatles Recording Sessions” by Mark Lewisohn, 1988

Many people believe that The Beatles recognized Abbey Road as their last album and designed it as an elegant send-off to their fans. Yet the bandmates rejected the idea of dissolving immediately afterward, even though they were aware their partnership was nearing its end.

"We didn't know, or I didn't know at the time cos it was the last Beatle record that we would make but... it kind of felt a bit like we were reaching the end of the line." George Harrison

“Nobody knew for sure that it was going to be the last album - but everybody felt it was. The Beatles had gone through so much and for such a long time. They'd been incarcerated with each other for nearly a decade, and I was surprised that they had lasted as long as they did. I wasn't at all surprised that they'd split up because they all wanted to lead their own lives - and I did, too. It was a release for me as well.” George Martin, Anthology

"I think it was in a way the feeling that it might be our last, so let's just show 'em what we can do, let's show each other what we can do, and let's try and have a good time doing it." Paul McCartney

ORIGINAL ADVERTISEMENT - New Musical Express (Sept 28, 1969)

THE SONGS

After the Let It Be nightmare, Abbey Road turned out fine. The second side is brilliant. Out of the ashes of all that madness, that last section is for me one of the finest pieces we put together. John and Paul had various bits, and so we recorded them and put them together. It actually points out that this is where it’s at, that last portion. None of the songs were finished. A lot of work went into it, but they weren’t writing together. John and Paul weren’t even writing much on their own, really. Ringo Starr, Anthology

Come Together

The album's opening track, "Come Together," was contributed by Lennon. Its chorus drew inspiration from a tune Lennon had initially penned for Timothy Leary's California gubernatorial bid, called "Let's Get It Together," with a raw take audible in outtakes from Lennon's second Canadian bed-in. The verses, which Lennon called deliberately vague, have sparked theories of subtle nods to each Beatle (such as "he's one holy roller" hinting at George Harrison's spiritual bent); alternatively, some interpret it as centering on a lone outcast figure, with Lennon crafting yet another wry self-sketch.

The track later sparked legal action from Morris Levy against Lennon, who conceded borrowing the opener "Here come old flat-top" from Chuck Berry's "You Can't Catch Me." "Come Together" emerged as a double A-side single paired with "Something." In the Love album's liner notes, Martin hailed it as one of his top picks..

"Come Together" was later released as a double A-side single with "Something". In the liner notes to the Love album Martin described the track as a personal favorite.

Something

The album's second cut evolved into Harrison's debut A-side single. Drawing the opening line from James Taylor's 1968 Apple release "Something in the Way She Moves," Harrison composed "Something" amid The Beatles sessions. Lyrics sharpened up during Let It Be work (with tapes capturing Lennon offering Harrison tips), it was first offered to Joe Cocker before landing on Abbey Road. Lennon deemed it the album's standout, while McCartney praised it as Harrison's finest work to date. Frank Sinatra dubbed "Something" his top Lennon-McCartney number (sic) and "the greatest love song ever written." It dropped as a double A-side with "Come Together."

"Something" became the first Beatles number one single that was not a Lennon–McCartney composition; it was also the first single from an already released album.

Maxwell's Silver Hammer

"Maxwell's Silver Hammer," McCartney's lead-off on the album, debuted in Beatles performance during Let It Be sessions (as shown in the Let It Be film).

According to Geoff Emerick's book, Here, There and Everywhere, Lennon said the song was "more of Paul's granny music", and refused to participate in the recording of the song.

The Beatles Abbey Road (in studio) — Rehearsal "Maxwell's Silver Hammer

Oh! Darling

For "Oh! Darling," McCartney limited himself to one daily take. Lennon felt it suited his vocal wheelhouse, noting it aligned with his vibe. On Anthology 3, a spontaneous verse from Lennon surfaces about Yoko Ono's divorce from ex Anthony Cox finally clearing.

"When we were recording 'Oh! Darling' I came into the studios early every day for a week to sing it by myself because at first my voice was too clear. I wanted it to sound as though I'd been performing it on stage all week." Paul McCartney

Octopus's Garden

Ringo Starr penned and fronted one track, "Octopus's Garden," his second (and final) solo Beatles composition. Sparked by a Sardinia jaunt on Peter Sellers' yacht—during Starr's two-week band hiatus with family amid The Beatles sessions—he nailed most lyrics there, marking his strongest songwriting outing. Though Starr locked in the words, Harrison shaped the melody in-studio (visible in Let It Be footage), yet credited it all to Starr. (The pair later teamed on Starr's hits "It Don't Come Easy" and "Photograph.")

I Want You (She's So Heavy)

"I Want You (She's So Heavy)" merges two distinct efforts. The initial go happened right post-Get Back/Let It Be in February 1969, with Billy Preston on keys. Fused with a fresh Abbey Road take, the splice hit nearly eight minutes—the band's second-longest release after "Revolution 9." More than most Beatles tunes, it channels prog rock via its sprawl, form, looping riff, and noise bursts; the "I Want You" part sticks to blues basics. It pioneered Moog synth for the late-track white-noise "wind." In the end mix, as riff and static drone, Lennon directed engineer Emerick to "cut it right there" at 7:44, birthing an abrupt void that caps side one. The last overdubs for "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" marked the quartet's final joint studio stint.

Here Comes the Sun

"Here Comes the Sun," Harrison's sophomore album entry and signature piece, sprang from Eric Clapton's garden during Harrison's skip of an Apple meeting. Though unsingle'd, it's logged heavy radio spins since launch.

Because

"Because" spotlights Harrison on Moog. Its progression echoes Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" via a twist: Lennon recalled he "was lying on the sofa in our house, listening to Yoko play Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' on the piano. Suddenly, I said, 'Can you play those chords backward?' She did, and I wrote 'Because' around them." Triple-tracked, the Lennon-McCartney-Harrison harmonies mimic a nine-voice choir.

Medley

The album peaks in a 16-minute medley of short, polished and raw scraps, fused into a suite by McCartney and Martin. Many originated (and demo'd) in White Album or Get Back/Let It Be work.

"You Never Give Me Your Money" kicks off the Abbey Road medley, McCartney's take on Allen Klein frustrations and perceived hollow vows. It fades softly into "Sun King" (mirroring "Because" with layered Lennon-McCartney-Harrison vocals), "Mean Mr. Mustard" (India-born), and Lennon's "Polythene Pam." Next come four McCartney bits: "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window" (from a fan's literal window breach at McCartney's), "Golden Slumbers" (lyrics from Thomas Dekker's 1603 poem, sans its tune), "Carry That Weight" (all-four chorus), and the peak, "The End."

"The End" stands out for Starr's sole Beatles drum solo (stereo-split across tracks, akin to Get Back's single mix). Drums usually mono'd and panned in stereo spreads. At 0:54, pre-iconic coda over piano, come 18 bars of guitar: McCartney's first two (bends like Help!'s "Another Girl" lead), Harrison's next (melodic slides, virtuoso), Lennon's pair (rhythmic bite, max distortion), repeating. Post-Lennon's third, piano ushers the close. It wraps with "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." An alt take, Harrison soloing over McCartney's with faint Starr drums, graces Anthology 3.

Her Majesty

"Her Majesty," appended at close, slotted originally in the medley betwixt "Mean Mr. Mustard" and "Polythene Pam." McCartney nixed its fit, prompting a medley recut sans it. But engineer John Kurlander, per "never discard" rule, salvaged it post-session: 14 seconds of red leader after the mix reel, then spliced in. The master box warned to omit "Her Majesty," but Apple’s Malcolm Davies (same ethos) cut a lacquer of the full chain, including it. The Beatles dug the surprise and kept it. Early US/UK Abbey Road sleeves and labels omit "Her Majesty," rendering it a stealth track. "Her Majesty" launches on "Mean Mr. Mustard"'s last crash; its tail note hides in "Polythene Pam"'s blend—from a rough medley snip. The gap got masked in further mixes, but "Her Majesty" stayed raw, save The Beatles: Rock Band's restored end note.

The medley notion hit around May 6, 1969, during You Never Give Me Your Money's taping. From take one, it clipped abrupt, pre-"One two three four five six seven/All good children go to heaven" add-on, hinting at a larger arc.

"I think it was my idea to put all the spare bits together, but I'm a bit wary of claiming these things. I'm happy for it to be everyone's idea. Anyway, in the end, we hit upon the idea of medleying them all and giving the second side a sort of operatic structure – which was great because it used ten or twelve unfinished songs in a good way." Paul McCartney, Anthology

"The last section of Abbey Road you know I still think is for me one of the finest pieces we put together." Ringo Starr

"Abbey Road was really unfinished songs all stuck together. Everybody praises the album so much, but none of the songs had anything to do with each other, no thread at all, only the fact that we stuck them together." John Lennon, 1980, All We Are Saying, David Sheff

My contribution [to the medley] is Polythene Pam, Sun King and Mean Mr Mustard. We juggled them about until it made vague sense. In Mean Mr Mustard, I said 'his sister Pam' – originally it was 'his sister Shirley' in the lyric. I changed it to 'Pam' to make it sound like it had something to do with it. They are only finished bits of crap that I wrote in India. John Lennon, 1969, Anthology

"After the Let It Be nightmare, Abbey Road turned out fine. The second side is brilliant. Out of the ashes of all that madness, that last section is for me one of the finest pieces we put together. John and Paul had various bits, and so we recorded them and put them together. It actually points out that this is where it's at, that last portion. None of the songs were finished. A lot of work went into it, but they weren't writing together. John and Paul weren't even writing much on their own, really." Ringo Starr, Anthology

"I tried with Paul to get back into the old Pepper way of creating something really worthwhile, and we put together the long side. John objected very much to what we did on the second side of Abbey Road, which was almost entirely Paul and I working together, with contribution from the others. John always was a Teddy boy. He was a rock'n'roller, and wanted a number of individual tracks. So we compromised. But even on the second side, John helped. He would come and put his little bit in, and have an idea for sewing a bit of music into the tapestry. Everybody worked frightfully well, and that's why I'm very fond of it." George Martin, Anthology

Maybe when I get the album finished and in the sleeve, then I'll get some sort of expression of it. When I did Pepper and the White Album I got an overall image of the album, but whereas with this one, I'm kind of lost. People have said, 'It's great! It's a bit more like Revolver. Well, maybe it is, but it still feels very abstract to me. I can't see it as a whole. It all fits together, but it's a bit like it's something else. It doesn't feel like it's us. We spent hours doing it, but I still don't see it like us. It's more like somebody else. It's a very good album. George Harrison, 1969

ABBEY ROAD - THE TITLE

While some of The Beatles' albums – notably the film tie-ins A Hard Day's Night and Help! – were titled early on during the recording process, Abbey Road remained untitled until the recording sessions were well underway.

"We went through weeks of all saying, 'Why don't we call it Billy's Left Boot?' and things like that. And then Paul just said, 'Why don't we call it Abbey Road?'" Ringo Starr, 1969, Anthology

"While we were in the studio, our engineer Geoff Emerick always used to smoke cigarettes called Everest, so the album was going to be called Everest. We never really liked that, but we couldn't think of anything else to call it. Then one day I said, 'I've got it!' ( I don't know how I thought of it ) 'Abbey Road!' It's the studio we're in, which is fabulous, and it sounds a bit like a monastery." Paul McCartney

THE INFAMOUS ALBUM COVER

All four Beatles gathered at EMI Studios on the morning of Friday 8 August for one of the most famous photo shoots of their career. Photographer Iain Macmillan took the famous image that adorned their last-recorded album, Abbey Road.

A policeman held up the traffic as Macmillan, from a stepladder positioned in the middle of the road, took six shots as the group walked across the zebra crossing just outside the studio.

Iain Macmillan was a freelance photographer and a friend to John Lennon and Yoko Ono. He used a Hasselblad camera with a 50mm wide-angle lens, aperture f22, at 1/500 seconds.

Prior to the shoot, Paul McCartney had sketched his ideas for the cover, to which Macmillan added a more detailed illustration.

As the group waited outside the studio for the shoot to begin, Linda McCartney took a number of extra photographs.

The Beatles crossed the road a number of times while Macmillan quickly took six photographs. 8 August was a hot day in north London, and for four of the six photographs McCartney walked barefoot; for the other two he wore sandals.

Shortly after the shoot, McCartney studied the transparencies and chose the fifth one for the album cover. It was the only one when all four Beatles were walking in time. It also satisfied The Beatles' desire for the world to see them walking away from the studios they had spent so much of the last seven years inside.

Macmillan also took a photograph of a nearby tiled street sign for the back cover. The sign has since been replaced, but was situated at the corner of Abbey Road and Alexandra Road. The junction no longer exists; the road was later replaced by the Abbey Road housing estate, between Boundary Road and Belsize Road.

ORIGINAL REVIEW

ROLLING STONE

John Mendelsohn (November 15, 1969)

Simply, side two does more for me than the whole of Sgt. Pepper, and I'll trade you The Beatles and Magical Mystery Tour and a Keith Moon drumstick for side one.

So much for the prelims. "Come Together" is John Lennon very nearly at the peak of his form; twisted, freely-associative, punful lyrically, pinched and somehow a little smug vocally. Breathtakingly recorded (as is the whole album), with a perfect little high-hat-tom-tom run by Ringo providing a clever semi-colon to those eerie shooo-ta's, Timothy Leary's campaign song opens up things in grand fashion indeed.

George's vocal, containing less adenoids and more grainy Paul tunefulness than ever before, is one of many highlights on his "Something," some of the others being more excellent drum work, a dead catchy guitar line, perfectly subdued strings, and an unusually nice melody. Both his and Joe Cocker's version will suffice nicely until Ray Charles gets around to it.

Paul McCartney and Ray Davies are the only two writers in rock and roll who could have written "Maxwell's Silver Hammer," a jaunty vaudevillian/music-hallish celebration wherein Paul, in a rare naughty mood, celebrates the joys of being able to bash in the heads of anyone threatening to bring you down. Paul puts it across perfectly with the coyest imaginable choir-boy innocence.

Someday, just for fun, Capitol/Apple's going to have to compile a Paul McCartney Sings Rock And Roll album, with "Long Tall Sally," "I'm Down," "Helter Skelter," and, most definitely, "Oh! Darling," in which, fronting a great "ouch!"-yelling guitar and wonderful background harmonies, he delivers an induplicably strong, throat-ripping vocal of sufficient power to knock out even those skeptics who would otherwise have complained about yet another Beatle tribute to the golden groovies' era.

That the Beatles can unify seemingly countless musical fragments and lyrical doodlings into a uniformly wonderful suite, as they've done on side two, seems potent testimony that no, they've far from lost it, and no, they haven't stopped trying.

No, on the contrary, they've achieved here the closest thing yet to Beatles freeform, fusing more diverse intriguing musical and lyrical ideas into a piece that amounts to far more than the sum of those ideas.

"Here Comes the Sun," for example, would come off as quite mediocre on its own, but just watch how John and especially Paul build on its mood of perky childlike wonder. Like here, in "Because," is this child, or someone with a child's innocence, having his mind blown by the most obvious natural phenomena, like the blueness of the sky. Amidst, mind you, beautiful and intricate harmonies, the like of which the Beatles have not attempted since "Dr. Robert."

Then, just for a moment, we're into Paul's "You Never Give Me Your Money," which seems more a daydream than an actual address to the girl he's thinking about. Allowed to remain pensive only for an instant, we're next transported, via Paul's "Lady Madonna" voice and boogie-woogie piano in the bridge, to this happy thought: "Oh, that magic feelin'/Nowhere to go." Crickets' chirping and a kid's nursery rhyme ("1-2-3-4-5-6-7/All good children go to heaven") lead us from there into a dreamy John number, "Sun King," in which we find him singing for the Italian market, words like amore and felice giving us some clue as to the feel of this reminiscent-of-"In My Room" ballad.

And then, before we know what's happened, we're out in John Lennon's England meeting these two human oddities, Mean Mr. Mustard and Polythene Pam. From there it's off to watch a surreal afternoon telly programme, Paul's "She Came In Through the Bathroom Window." Pensive and a touch melancholy again a moment later, we're into "Golden Slumbers," from which we wake to the resounding thousands of voices on "Carry That Weight," a rollicking little commentary of life's labours if ever there was one, and hence to a reprise of the "Money" theme (the most addicting melody and unforgettable words on the album). Finally, a perfect epitaph for our visit to the world of Beatle daydreams: "The love you take is equal to the love you make ..." And, just for the record, Paul's gonna make Her Majesty his.

I'd hesitate to say anything's impossible for him after listening to Abbey Road the first thousand times, and the others aren't far behind. To my mind, they're equatable, but still unsurpassed.