By January 1967, the record-company brass on both sides of the Atlantic were clamoring for new Beatles product posthaste. And their concerns naturally cascaded around Epstein, who turned to Martin for a progress report. What Epstein really wanted, of course, was a dynamite single to usher in the new year—a means for reasserting the Beatles’ presence with a firecracker-like bang. “We need a single out, George, fast. What have you got?” Brian asked. “I want the best thing you’ve got.” As George later recalled, Brian “was determined to make up any lost ground” across the autumn and winter months of 1966, and, in the manager’s words, “to keep the Beatles firmly in the limelight’s brilliant blaze.” No problem, Martin had assured him. By this juncture, he knew that he was in possession of “a small collection of gems” in “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “When I’m Sixty-Four,” and the still-unfinished “Penny Lane.” “Realizing how desperate Brian was feeling,” George later recalled, “I decided to give him a super-strong combination, a double-punch that could not fail, an unbeatable linking of two all-time great songs: ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’ and ‘Penny Lane.’” By Martin’s standing prescription for Beatles releases, the new single meant that “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane” wouldn’t be included on their next long-player, given his penchant for affording the record-buying public with greater value for their money. He shared this ethic with Epstein, who had been raised to adhere to the business motto of Epstein and Sons, a prominent Liverpool furniture dealership who proudly proclaimed that “the fair deal is the right deal.” Martin was so confident about the Beatles’ latest work that he went out on a limb, predicting unprecedented success for the upcoming release: “These songs would, I told him [Epstein], make a fantastic double-A-sided disc—better even than our other double-A-sided triumphs, ‘Day Tripper’ b/w ‘We Can Work It Out,’ and ‘Eleanor Rigby’ b/w ‘Yellow Submarine.’”2
With the pressure building for them to complete “Penny Lane” for a mid-February release, George and the bandmates were racing headlong toward a hard deadline for the first time since bringing Revolver to fruition in madcap style back in June 1966. On Wednesday, January 4, George supervised yet another overnight session in Studio 2 for the express purpose of conducting more overdubs for “Penny Lane.” As George later recalled, “Penny Lane” had “started life as a fairly simple song. But Paul decided he wanted a special sound on it.” Working on the existing take seven, Lennon overdubbed an additional piano part to a song that was, by this point, brimming with a wall of piano sound. Harrison appended a lead guitar part to track two. Meanwhile, McCartney performed additional lead vocals on track three. The next evening, Thursday, January 5, would prove to be one of the strangest happenings in George and the Beatles’ career together. The proceedings got underway with McCartney, ever the perfectionist, recording yet another lead vocal in place of the previous night’s work. The rest of the evening was devoted to a bizarre, avant-garde recording slated for inclusion at the upcoming Million Volt Light and Sound Rave. Scheduled for January 28 at London’s Roundhouse Theatre, the event had originated with artist and designer David Vaughan, who had decorated a piano for McCartney with psychedelic imagery. To Vaughan’s great surprise, the Beatle offered to contribute a track to the upcoming electronic music and light show.3
During the January 5 session, McCartney took charge of the proceedings, while Martin and his team observed the zany events unfold from their perch in the control room above the studio floor. As Paul later recalled, “I said ‘all I want you to do is just wander around all the stuff, bang it, shout, play it, it doesn’t need to make any sense. Hit a drum, then wander onto the piano, hit a few notes and just wander around.’” And so the Beatles did just that, roaming around Studio 2 from instrument to instrument and occasionally shouting out semi-amusing non sequiturs. Over the years, scant few people—outside of George and the Beatles’ inner circle—have actually heard the track, which came to be known as “Carnival of Light.” According to Mark Lewisohn, the song is composed of “distorted, hypnotic drum and organ sounds, a distorted lead guitar, the sound of a church organ, various effects (water gargling was one) and, perhaps most intimidating of all, Lennon and McCartney screaming dementedly and bawling aloud random phrases like ‘Are you all right?’ and ‘Barcelona!’” In terms of establishing a basic rhythm track for the song, it seems that the Beatles scarcely even bothered to create an elemental foundation for “Carnival of Light.” As McCartney’s biographer Barry Miles later pointed out, the song had “no rhythm, although a beat is sometimes established for a few bars by the percussion or a rhythmic pounding piano. There is no melody, although snatches of a tune sometimes threaten to break through.”4
At McCartney’s instruction, Emerick treated the voices and instrumentation for “Carnival of Light” to considerable reverb. Starr’s drums were recorded fast in order to afford them with a deeper sound on playback. Meanwhile, Lennon and McCartney provided a variety of vocal inflections, including Native American war cries, the sounds of coughing and gasping, and other assorted vocal fragments. The instrumentation for the song, such as it was, consisted of guitar feedback, organ, drums, percussion, and jangle-box piano. The longest uninterrupted Beatles track to date at nearly fourteen minutes, “Carnival of Light” ended with Paul asking, his voice awash in echo, “Can we hear it back now?” At that point, Martin and his production team created a mono remix of “Carnival of Light,” which McCartney dutifully turned over to Vaughan for inclusion in the upcoming rave. At this point in the session, Martin said, “This is ridiculous, we’ve got to get our teeth into something a little more constructive.” For his part, Emerick recalled the recording as “a bit of nonsense, really, but everyone had fun doing it. Whenever the Beatles tried something really outrageous, George Martin would roll his eyes and mutter a clipped ‘Oh my God’ under his breath. Looking back, I guess that everyone was tripping his brains out that night, but we didn’t know it then. When John started shouting ‘Barcelona’ repeatedly in one of his Goon-like voices, Phil and I were doubled over in laughter.” Two decades later, Martin was asked if he remembered the session, replying “No, and it sounds like I don’t want to either!”5
The next day, Friday, January 6, George and the Beatles got back down to business, toiling away at “Penny Lane” in order to ready their new single for the marketplace. The session began with a spate of new instrumentation—all heavily limited and recorded by Emerick at a slower speed to quicken the pace upon playback. McCartney turned in a bass guitar part on his Rickenbacker, with Lennon playing rhythm guitar on his Jumbo acoustic and Starr on his Ludwigs. An additional overdub found Lennon playing the congas. The latest round of instrumentation left Martin in need of new real estate, which prompted him to supervise a tape reduction to free up more space. At this point, Lennon and Martin piano tracks were thrown into the mix, along with a series of handclaps, as well as Lennon, McCartney, and Harrison providing scat vocals as placeholders for future adornments by studio musicians; at some point over the past few days, McCartney had concocted the idea for brass and woodwind ornamentation. Before the session concluded, Emerick carried out yet another tape reduction to free up two more tracks. And with that, the bandmates closed up shop for the weekend, leaving Martin only a few precious days to concoct a score for “Penny Lane.”
That Monday, George strode into a 7:00 PM session in Studio 2. He was joined by the Beatles, of course, along with control room fixtures Geoff and Phil. Also on hand was a sextet of studio musicians. Yet another group of top-flight London players handpicked by George, the visitors included flautists Ray Swinfield, P. Goody, Manny Winters, and Dennis Walton, along with trumpeters Leon Calvert and Freddy Clayton. With his score in hand, Martin made quick work of the session. After making the requisite introduction, the producer turned the session over to McCartney, who played a quick run-through of “Penny Lane” on a piano. At one point, Paul told the musicians that it’s “kinda confusing to what key it’s in” before offering s
ome impromptu recommendations to the brass players. With the studio musicians at the ready, Martin rehearsed the flautists’ performance of the song’s chorus, followed by the trumpeters. While listening to the playback, George complained that the tuning didn’t seem quite right. After things were sorted out, he conducted the musicians as Emerick captured their performance on track three. In addition to the flute and trumpet parts, three of the six musicians also turned in two piccolo performances and a flügelhorn performance, respectively. After the musicians departed, George and his team carried out two mono remixes.6
Another overnight session on Tuesday, January 10, found George and the Beatles working in Studio 3, where they recorded more overdubs onto take nine of “Penny Lane.” Much of the evening was devoted to working with an array of harmonies and sound effects, the most notable of which was the superimposition of a handbell. Scavenged from the studio trap room, Ringo rang the handbell at key junctures in the song when the fireman and his fire engine are referenced. For George and the Beatles, the studio was dark on the evening of January 11. With the bandmates taking a rare day off, Paul stayed home at Cavendish Avenue, where he watched BBC Two’s Masterworks television series. The second of a five-part program, that evening’s episode featured a performance of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto no. 2 in F Major by the Chamber Orchestra of Guildford Cathedral. The episode featured trumpeter David Mason, the principal player with London’s New Philharmonia and an internationally renowned musician. Watching Mason as he performed one of the most difficult trumpet pieces in Bach’s repertoire, McCartney was dazzled. When he reconvened with Martin and the other bandmates the next day, the Beatle was still gushing about Mason’s exploits. “What was that tiny little trumpet that fellow was playing? I couldn’t believe the sound he was making!” said McCartney. “That’s called a piccolo trumpet,” Martin replied, “and the chap playing it was David Mason, who happens to be a friend of mine.” With space for a solo still available at the heart of “Penny Lane,” McCartney was ecstatic. “Fantastic!” he told the producer. “Let’s get him in here and have him overdub it.” And Martin did just that, booking the distinguished player for a session less than a week later in Studio 2.7
Meanwhile, George and the Beatles pressed forward with the Thursday, January 12, session. Working in Studio 3, George conducted a second set of classical superimpositions. The session musicians that afternoon included two trumpets, two oboes, two cor anglais, and a double bass. The trumpeters were Bert Courtley and Duncan Campbell. The oboists, who also performed the cor anglais parts, included Dick Morgan and Mike Winfield, along with bassist Frank Clarke, who later recalled that “they wanted me to play one note over and over, for hours.” After the musicians had departed, Martin and the bandmates hit upon the idea of recording a backward mélange from the classical adornments for “Penny Lane,” although the ornamentation would later be scuttled. Before the day’s work concluded, Martin and his team prepared two mono mixes. For his part, Emerick felt confident that “Penny Lane” had finally come into its own. “Combined with Paul’s stellar bass playing and superb vocals,” he later wrote, “the track was beginning to sound full, polished, and quite finished to me.”8
The recording sessions associated with “Penny Lane” would finally reach their fruition on Tuesday, January 17. Working an evening session in Studio 2, George and the bandmates welcomed David Mason into their midst in order to provide the song’s finishing touches courtesy of an exquisite piccolo trumpet solo. While he was delighted at being able to meet McCartney’s expectations and book Mason for the session, Martin approached the evening with a degree of uncertainty, later to be superseded by genuine trepidation. As he later observed, “The normal trumpet is in B-flat. But there is also the D trumpet, which is what Bach mostly used, and the F trumpet. In this case, I decided to use a B-flat piccolo trumpet, an octave above the normal.” But as George noted, “It was a difficult session for two reasons. First, that little trumpet is a devil to play in tune, because it isn’t really in tune with itself, so that in order to achieve pure notes the player has to ‘lip’ each one. Secondly, we had no music prepared. We just knew that we wanted little piping interjections. We had had experience of professional musicians saying, ‘If the Beatles were real musicians, they’d know what they wanted us to play before we came into the studio.’” To Martin’s great relief, Mason “wasn’t like that at all. By then the Beatles were very big news anyway, and I think he was intrigued to be playing on one of their records, quite apart from being well paid for his trouble.” For the January 17 session, George had managed to secure the special Musicians’ Union fee of nearly twenty-eight pounds. This meant that Mason would receive nearly double the going rate for session musicians during that era.9
As Mason later recalled, “I took nine trumpets along, and we tried various things, by a process of elimination settling on the B-flat piccolo trumpet.” When it came to the solo itself, “We spent three hours working it out. Paul sang the parts he wanted, George Martin wrote them out, I tried them.” As for the actual recording process, Mason remembers that it “was done quite quickly.” With McCartney retreating to the control room, Mason performed two overdubs, including the solo and a concluding flourish. “They were jolly high notes, quite taxing,” said Mason, “but with the tapes rolling we did two takes as overdubs on top of the existing song.” But as Emerick later observed, the session proved to be dramatic in more ways than one:
True professional that he was, Mason played it perfectly the first time through, including the extraordinarily demanding solo which ended on a note that was almost impossibly high. It was, quite simply, the performance of his life. And everyone knew it—except, obviously, Paul. As the final note faded to silence, he reached for the talkback mic. “Nice one, David,” Paul said matter-of-factly. “Can we try another pass?” There was a long moment of silence. “Another pass?” The trumpeter looked up at the control room helplessly. He seemed lost for words. Finally, he said softly, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I just can’t do it any better.” Mason knew that he had nailed it, that he had played everything note perfect and that it was a prodigious feat that he could not possibly top.
But it was Martin who quickly saved the day, turning to McCartney and saying, “Good God, you can’t possibly ask the man to do that again. It’s fantastic!” To his credit, McCartney quickly recovered, saying to Mason over the talkback, “Okay, thank you, David. You’re free to go now, released on your own recognizance.”10
For his part, Mason would never forget his first brush with the Beatles that evening. “Although Paul seemed to be in charge, and I was the only one playing,” he later recalled, “the other three Beatles were there too. They all had funny clothes on, candy-striped trousers, floppy yellow bow ties, etc. I asked Paul if they’d been filming because it really looked like they had just come off a film set. John Lennon interjected, ‘Oh no, mate, we always dress like this!’” As with Alan Civil on Revolver’s “For No One,” Mason’s career would be largely defined by his work with the Fab Four. As he remarked years later, “I’ve spent a lifetime playing with top orchestras yet I’m most famous for playing on ‘Penny Lane!’” With Mason’s work complete, Martin was thrilled with the results, later writing that the piccolo trumpet solo “was unique, something that had never been done in rock music before, and it gave ‘Penny Lane’ a very distinct character.” With Mason having departed Abbey Road, Martin and his team carried out three mono mixes, with remix eleven being considered the best. After making a copy of the mix, Martin dutifully dispatched the recording to Capitol Records for the American release of the “Strawberry Fields Forever” backed with “Penny Lane” single, which had been slated for release on February 13.11
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