In the lore of The Beatles, Rubber Soul is where the lovable mop-tops, coming off of a famed, record-setting appearance at Shea Stadium capping a massive American tour, morphed into pot-smoking, Dylan-vibing folkies. From wanting to hold her hand to telling her pain will lead to pleasure. From can’t buy me love to burning up her furniture.
Celebrating, essentially, the LP’s 60th birthday, this four-CD edition is a gem. Not only is the original mono master presented here, but also the Capitol stereo version, and a separate disc of demos and halted takes revealing the Fabs’ acute evolutionary process. Yet, the centerpiece of this set is the new stereo version, remixed by Giles Martin and Sam Okell, and mastered by Miles Showell, that is a wonder to behold.
Likely, the new mix will spark plenty of debate among the purists, just as previously reworked editions from Martin have done. To some degree, that’s the pleasure of this collection—to have multiple versions, each to its own disc, for intense comparison. Regardless of preference, the listening experience of The Beatles in present-day stereo is one that should not be missed.
Slanted with an emphasis towards the vocals, and magnified bass, Martin’s mix immediately grabs on as assertive and vibrant. On the opening “Drive My Car,” there is Paul McCartney’s iconic low-end line and feisty voice grooving from the get-go. John Lennon’s “Norwegian Wood,” and its aforementioned conflagration of furnishings, follows with Martin placing the vocals noticeably atop the sinewy sitar and strumming acoustic.
It’s a pattern that holds rather consistently across the 14 tracks, yet isn’t insistent. Martin’s choices serve the songs, and as an album that pulled the foursome toward more eclectic sounds and rhythms, and more introspective lyricism, they are wise uses of the space. For a record that once seemed, in part, as a liminal entry preceding the lysergic explorations of Revolver, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, and Magical Mystery Tour, this new mix draws on the exotic enough to float it into a puffy cloud more akin to what would come next than what came before.
The package is without fault. The four discs each own slightly unique, yet true-to-form cover art, including restoration of the original cover photo that, ultimately, they’d stretch like rubber. The 90-page booklet, too, deserves special commendation, as it is loaded with exquisite photos and reports of each track’s origin story and recording; a Beatles fan’s absolute delight.
Once again, six decades later, Rubber Soul sparkles as exemplifying The Beatles breaking away and breaking through. It’s an album defining growth and maturity, the boys becoming men, the men becoming artists. You don’t look different, but you have changed.
