The Beatles – Revolver Review

Revolutionary is perhaps an understatement when considering the effect Revolver had for not just The Beatles, but the era they would come to define. Its universal influence, its forward-thinking push for what pop music could do, has directly informed where we are now. But so too did Rubber Soul before this, and the albums to follow, too. For five years, The Beatles were putting out album after album of revolutionary material, and while it is fair to argue where the source begins, taking Revolver at face value may have it pale in comparison with what was to follow. Between the culmination of a decade of interest on Abbey Road or the psychedelic tinge of equally influential and culturally prominent Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Revolver stands out on what it signals the end of, rather than the starting point of The Beatles’ new, expressive sound.  

Not only is this the beginning of the end for the Paul McCartney and John Lennon writing partnership dominating the album, each member would split off into genres of interest on future releases, but it marks the total end of the early, radio-chasing pop favourability. What a welcome break it is. A clean break, too. Taxman is a bold start, the George Harrison-penned track hitting out at the supertax which pushed the likes of Yes and The Rolling Stones into European exile. It appears to be one of the few songs from the Fab Four to directly comment on the changing political times, and while Revolver does not dwell on the Harold Wilson government, it does use this as a point of reference for what pushed the band into some more psychedelic-sounding efforts. Despite how closely-knit the group sounds, the overlap of songwriting between Harrison and John Lennon on the opener, for instance, the four are keen to dwell on individual genres of interest.  

Vague protest from Harrison and Lennon is countered in the follow-up, the heartbreaker, the heavy strings of Eleanor Rigby. Where Revolver may have an overwhelming quality to it, a brilliant consistency to the quality, there is little to tie together the songs which appear. It suffers somewhat from the supergroup styling of bands in the decade to follow, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, for example. Every member is trying to pull the group in one direction or another. Thankfully, the amicable relationship of The Beatles prevents it from collapsing inward, instead, Revolver has them expand outward time and again. It feels like a minor footnote considering the overwhelming creativity on display, the first-time feeling for many of the songs. I’m Only Sleeping has a tremendous instrumental depth to it, once more shining a light on the Harrison and Lennon collaborations.  

Here is an album where the various influences on The Beatles, who at this point had been the clean-cut faces of British pop, are put to the test. Revolver manages to overhaul not just the sound but the visuals associated with the group, too. It would be this way for the albums to follow, too. A crucial album, no other way around it. And yet, The Beatles made better albums to follow, pieces which are not just as influential, but more interesting in the ripple effect of what happened to the members, and to those who listened in. It is the same for The Velvet Underground or The Rolling Stones. Those greatest moments, which are defined by the historical context, are followed up by a stronger piece of work.  

But the work at hand on Revolver is phenomenal, too. Independent of influence or considered in the ever-expanding sense of music history, it is a paradigm shift. Even those songs which we may spend our days mocking, like Yellow Submarine, have heart and depth and layered wonders to it. Even the pieces which do not feel, on paper, like hits, are tremendously fun. Good Day Sunshine has that ditty style McCartney would mould on songs like Oh, Darling!, and with his Ram solo album after the split of The Beatles. Every song points to where the Fab Four would end up, lyrically and instrumentally. They are still allowing for the overlap of their works, happy to give way to this addition or that reduction, something the band would not be capable of just four years later.  

Revolver is, ultimately, an album which transcends the classic feeling. It has the Abbey Road qualities, the individuality overlapping into songs of sincere and consistent quality. Not as hits-laden, not a perfect run of songs, but certainly a vast and deep collection of songs which, even now, define the careers of each member, let alone the band. There are hints of what is to come on Revolver, which gives it that everlasting quality. Got to Get You Back Into My Life is a timeless piece of work, a powerhouse of a song which caps the album nicely along with closer Tomorrow Never Knows. This is where The Beatles truly shift gear, though they had been working the pedals better on Rubber Soul, and would roar off on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.