There is just something about autumn, particularly around Thanksgiving, that feels like the "most Beatles time of year" for me. It started in 1995, when the third of the three-part Beatles Anthology aired Thanksgiving night on ABC. That week was my baptism to the Beatles, between watching that excellent documentary and soon discovering half of their records were boxed up in our basement, my mom's collection gathering dust for decades. Years after the TV special (that also became an 8-VHS set), the Beatles began releasing expanded versions of those albums, usually in celebration of their 50th anniversaries. The "White Album" and Abbey Road were originally released in November and September, respectively, and therefore the massive reissues followed the fall pattern accordingly. Let it Be had a May date, but when its 50th birthday rolled around, the world was largely locked down in a pandemic. 17 months later in October 2021, Let it Be finally arrived, preceding the following month's mother of all Beatles unveilings, Peter Jackson's nearly 8-hour Get Back film.

Tis the season yet again, as Revolver: Deluxe Edition was released on October 28, a mere 56 years and three months after the groundbreaking LP first hit shelves. Peter Jackson is tangentially involved in this project as well, since Giles Martin (the son of the Beatles producer George Martin and the one tasked with curating all of these "new" releases) used the same technology Jackson developed to bring his Get Back marathon to realization and applied it to the Beatles' seventh studio album. 

In 1966, the Liverpudlians were still recording on four-track machines, which meant that in order to fit in the vast array of sounds the increasingly experimental group was utilizing, numerous instruments had to be combined onto one of those four tracks for the final product. If you've ever heard Revolver, you don't need me to tell you that there are a lot more than four parts going on for the vast majority of the 35-minute LP.

Which brings us back to Peter Jackson. The technology he and his team built for Get Back allowed him to separate audio, so if, for example, three people were talking into the same microphone, he could isolate each of those voices to create a new distinct track. Giles Martin leaned on the same tech for this new remix of Revolver, an effort not to make a modern version of a 60s masterpiece, but rather to punch up certain parts and allow the multitude of instruments, voices, and effects to shine to their individual fullest. 

Enough about the process. What about the results? To me, the first things that stood out were the bass being more upfront and the vocals sounding a little cleaner. The improvements may be subtle, but they are noticeable. "Here, There, and Everywhere," "She Said She Said," and "And Your Bird Can Sing" particularly shine with this new treatment. Overall, the album sounds amazing.

As for the original release and its historical significance, it's worth keeping in mind where the Beatles were in their career when Revolver came to be. After completing a UK tour at the end of '65, the boys stumbled into a nearly four-month period of time with absolutely nothing on the schedule. Basically for the first time since 1962, they could actually catch their breath and just enjoy life. They had certainly earned it. So, as any 20-something who owns the world would do, they did drugs. And lots of them! If pot came around on Help!, than this is the album where acid fully entered into the equation, which resulted in tracks like the first one they recorded, which interestingly enough, became the closer, and the one that most clearly pointed the direction they were heading: "Tomorrow Never Knows." Really, what choice did they have but to end the album with this song? It's like not ending Sgt. Pepper's with "A Day in the Life." Anything after it would just sound pathetic.

As the Beatle mystique has grown over the years and every detail of their existence has been overanalyzed to the point of banality, Revolver has settled into place as the critics' choice for their best record. It might be. For much of my life it's held that position, although I tend to give Rubber Soul the nod these days. But that also may have changed between the time this left my fingers and reached your eyes (if you're still reading this novella). For the most part, the songs themselves are better than most of those on the following year's revolutionary Sgt. Pepper. They also seem more effortless compared to much of the "White Album" and Abbey Road material. Revolver is that Goldilocks sweet spot of inspired, "we have something to prove" ambition of their early days, diligence to the craft of songwriting, and experimentation to push boundaries. It's brilliant. 

It's also fascinating hearing some of the songs come together, a gift provided by the bonus tracks on this deluxe edition. While a lot of these were available on the Anthology CDs, there are plenty of new indulgences here, including the highlight of John singing "Yellow Submarine" as him and Paul are still working out the lyrics. The other incredible thing these bonus tracks continue to reveal is how the band always seemed to get the final form right. Whether lyrics, arrangements, or tempo, these alternate takes demonstrate the process of going through different ideas and styles until they land on something that becomes the version we all hold so near and dear. I can't think of an instance in which an unused take surpasses the one that made the cut. 

A few other notes of interest (at least to me): 

-"Eleanor Rigby" was the first Beatles track to feature none of them playing any instruments on it. 

-When Paul wrote "Got to Get You Into My Life," the "you" is actually ganja. Seriously. Or in his words, "It's an ode to pot." 

-McCartney has called "Here, There and Everywhere" his favorite tune he ever wrote.

-Recording for this album finished June 21, and two days later they went on tour. When the tour finished on August 29, they would never play a concert again (except the Apple rooftop gig, of course, now available in full on Get Back).

With the Jackson technology now in hand, I can only hope Martin gives the other pre-Pepper albums the same treatment, if for no other reason than the bonus material. I don't need two LPs of Rubber Soul or Help! outtakes, but I sure as hell wouldn't turn them down.