Bad Beatles Renaissance: Beatles For Sale

Beatles For Sale isn't just a self-deprecating title, it's widely considered the worst thing they'd recorded up to that point in their careers. We get more covers, more under-written pop, and a real sense of fatigue from the group. There are really only a few songs of note on it: Every Little Thing, I'll Follow The Sun, and Eight Days a Week. Arguably I'm a Loser and What You're Doing are decent, although I would say they're more "solidly mediocre" than "good".

Everything else is pretty skippable.

Some of the covers are staples from their live show: Chuck Berry's Rock and Roll Music is where the biopic Backbeat (about the pre-Ringo group playing in Germany) ultimately gets its title, and their recorded rendition of it is lively and bouncing. Others are a little flat, like Mr. Moonlight, which can only be described as dreary.

George and Ringo sing some Carl Perkins tunes, the least interesting of which is Ringo's Honey Don't, in which he tells George to "rock out one time for Ringo". Under normal circumstances, this would only be vaguely cheesy, but the song has not one but two guitar breaks, and Ringo calls out for George to play "one time" both times. So it's weird and anachronistic as well. George's take on Everybody's Trying To Be My Baby is a weird closer with a laughable slap-echo.

We get a medley of covers sung by Paul: Kansas City/Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey!, two blues numbers which are so indistinguishable that it's hard to tell where one song ends and the next begins. This only goes to reinforce my long-held theory: the blues is a very boring genre.

Beatles aficionados will point out that songs like I'm a Loser, while not good, show some progression for the band, notably Bob Dylan's influence on John Lennon. And we can't fault the band too much, it was their fourth album to be recorded in 21 months. I suppose that's interesting/all-well-and-good, but on the whole For Sale sits pretty low, especially because it sits between two albums that are substantially better.

]{p