Guitarist Randy Bachman Demystifies the Opening Chord of ‘A Hard Day’s Night’
in Music | December 19th, 2011 6 Comments
You could call it the magical mystery chord. The opening clang of the Beatles’ 1964 hit, “A Hard Day’s Night,” is one of the most famous and distinctive sounds in rock and roll history, and yet for a long time no one could quite figure out what it was.
In this fascinating clip from the CBC radio show, Randy’s Vinyl Tap, the legendary Guess Who and Bachman-Turner Overdrive guitarist Randy Bachman unravels the mystery. The segment is from a special live performance, “Guitarology 101,” taped in front of an audience at the Glenn Gould Studio in Toronto back in January, 2010. As journalist Matthew McAndrew wrote, “the two-and-a-half hour event was as much an educational experience as it was a rock’n'roll concert.”
One highlight of the show was Bachman’s telling of his visit the previous year with Giles Martin, son of Beatles’ producer George Martin, at Abbey Road Studios. The younger Martin, who is now the official custodian of all the Beatles’ recordings, told Bachman he could listen to anything he wanted from the massive archive–anything at all.
Bachman chose to hear each track from the opening of “A Hard Day’s Night.” As it turns out, the sound is actually a combination of chords played simultaneously by George Harrison and John Lennon, along with a bass note by Paul McCartney. Bachman breaks it all down in an entertaining way in the audio clip above.
You can read about some of the earlier theories on The Beatles Bible and Wikipedia, and hear a fascinating account of one scholar’s mathematical analysis of the component sounds of the chord from a few years ago at NPR. Or, you can simply let the song work its own magic in the opening sequence to the 1964 Richard Lester film, below.
"Arrogance is experiential and environmental in cause. Human experience can make and unmake arrogance. Ours is about to get unmade."
I don't need much excuse to put on some K K K Kula Shaker!
I should perhaps mention the following video has a strobe like effect. If you are effected adversely by such things you might want to give it a miss. It's pretty trippy actually.
I hear the sound of drums and a melody I hear the sound of drums We're singing the names above in the city, yeah Revolution for fun.
I feel the time has come like a remedy I feel the time has come We're shaking the spear of love in the city, yeah I hear the sound of drums, yeah yeah.
But can you feel the love for me, yeah yeah I feel the time has come I hear the sound of drums.
I hear the sound of drums on a melody, calling me to return. Well, light up and catch the sun 'cos it's gonna be Revolution for fun, yeah yeah Can you feel the love for me, yeah yeah.
I feel the time has come I hear the sound of drums
Well, I feel the time has come for the melody I see the golden one Well, i'm not the only one with the remedy I'm not the only one.
I feel the time has come I hear the sound of drums.
There was quite naturally a self-assigned project I really loved: I had to find why a simple chord, as most who’ve taken music theory courses might think, would have caused curiosity and excitement over the years. So, I went hunting.
To the left is the original, opening chord as noted by The Beatles, I’m supposing. Here’s a click onto another page where the chord is strummed. That one chord suspended mid-air for only a moment is the entire introduction, the exclamatory sound of which is rather like someone important has just entered the room, and you ask, “What?!!” I think then it’s feelings of anticipation that listeners have been loving all these years.
How the notes were to be distributed in the chord was likely attempted by The Beatles time and again to create and hear something unusual and musically relevant. The chord probably finally showed up in that ‘it’ moment in a rehearsal or in the studio as board technicians took the various notes in the chord and worked them into sounds that— played all together —became catchy or just down right fabulous sounding. That, to me, is a defining moment, when you feel like jumping up, saying, “That’s ‘it’,” because what you are wanting to hear outside yourself somehow instantly and surprisingly matches what you might’ve been hearing inside but not knowing when that sound could show up.
Guitarist, Randy Bachman, got truly excited— you can hear it in his voice —when isolating each note then reconstructing that famous chord (although Bachman put it and the song in the key of F major). Here’s a wiki page dedicated to the background of the song as well as its opening.
On the other hand, lots of people who might not have worked years to produce a varied and skilled music performance history might instead have become obsessed with mathematically deconstructing music, separating and analyzing and measuring ad nauseam elements of someone else’s compositions and recordings. Those same people’s analyses too many times are adrift without the nuanced vocabularies of music and performance theories that schooled musicians and performers readily listen for and want to acknowledge.
A commenter below writes succinctly wrt music theory and notation of the introductory strummed chord; and, additionally, what may be said for well-trained ears in the world of music performance.
Marc Siegel (Marco) wrote: I agree with Mike Sommers’ comment that it is a G7sus chord, however I was a little confused with his first post talking about a G major 7 (which has the F#- which this chord as it clearly is a dominant does not have- it has the F natural). Then he goes on to talk about a sharp third. Musicians do not use the terminology of a #3 [#3 = the third of the chord raised a half step], no such thing really (because the #3 is the 4th). But he finally did get the chord analysis right in his second post, however he is mistaken about the piano.
A point or two for the “mathguy” [who is Keith Devlin* at Stanford U.] to contemplate if I may [be] so bold; Music is not science, it’s music. Sound vibrations can be calibrated but that does not make music science, which is completely obvious by the huge waste of time and effort put forth in this so called experiment. Let the scientists practice science and please let the musicians practice the art of their craft. Musicians spend their lives developing an ear for rhythm, harmony and melody- the addition of science can only be but a pale comparison to the artists well trained ear, this article proves that to me beyond a shadow of a doubt. If you really can not hear that and you need “science” to tell you this then you do not possess what the average musician has by simple means of necessity.
_________________ * Mr. Devlin has not likely spent the minimally required 10,000 hours practicing alone his musical instrument of choice; instead, he’s probably enjoying the status and income produced while at Stanford along with (goals, percentages and quotas underpinning) incomes produced by public speaking and sales of his books, which is all well and good, obviously. Therefore, if he had spent thousands of hours excelling at performing on a musical instrument, that native feel for music and a soupçon of language to articulate as you would expect from say, Leonard Bernstein or Glenn Gould, for instance, would be easily heard during Devlin’s talks and read in web pages authored by him. More about Devlin, here and here. Devlin NPR interview here.
~ A.
Art will be the last bastion when all else fades away. ~ Timothy White (b 1952), American rock music journalist _________________
. This particular arrangement of Carol of the Bells is absolutely fascinating, I think, and it's performed about as fast as humanly possible to sing. Besides that, the Morman Tabernacle Choir is humongous, the pipe organ and pipes are humongous, the choir is humongous, the orchestra is humongous, and that bell ensemble has about as many members as could fit comfortably on its platform. Big and loud and fast and high notes are part of the extremes the choir fulfills in today's marketplace.
This Carol of the Bells is a purist's arrangement and performance, sung with that certain perfection established by Robert Shaw Chorale.
Last edited by Allegro on Sun Dec 25, 2011 12:49 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Art will be the last bastion when all else fades away. ~ Timothy White (b 1952), American rock music journalist _________________
I think you must know I love The Police. From that interview with Sting;
"The song is in two distinct parts. The first part is about the things I've lost faith in. It's quite easy to be precise about the things I've lost faith in - politics, media, science, technology, the things that everybody has, and yet I along with most other people have a great deal of hope, and a feeling that things will and can get better. So what do we place our faith in I can't define that as easily as I can define what I don't believe in anymore. So I haven't defined it, I've just said if I ever lose my faith in you, and "You" could be my producer, it could be faith in God, it could be faith in myself, or it could be faith in romantic love."
If only I could restore my faith in romantic love. That would be nice. Maybe one day.