THE BEATLES – “Hey Jude”
There’s a little to admire about “Hey Jude” but almost nothing to love. For a start, it’s far too long: the most obvious of criticisms, yes, but the last two or so minutes of the coda are pure baggage, the sound of a band imposing themselves just because they can. The song comes from the start of the Apple period, in fact it helped launch the boutique label: that may explain why they wanted to get something Big onto the market, but the length of “Hey Jude” just wastes its expertly constructed build-up. It’s also from the era when Paul McCartney was trying hard to persuade the Beatles back on the road – for a non-touring outfit to invent the lighters-out stadium ballad is ironic, if not cruel. McCartney’s excruciatingly well-drilled “Joo-joo-judy-jude” yowls as the coda starts give some hint of how lucky the world was that the other three resisted his plans.
Lop the end in half and the rest isn’t so bad. “Hey Jude” crystallises a lot of familiar Beatley themes – you’re not alone, you don’t have to be ashamed of needing help, some of that help is best found in a huge great singalong. The track has undeniable weight but I always feel a little sorry for Jude, who starts off getting an avuncular chat and ends up squeezed in the world’s biggest bear hug. The song is at its prettiest and most effective when it’s at its most conversational – “Hey Jude, you’ll do” – but that delicate balance of intimacy and inclusiveness doesn’t last. If you’re looking for a Beatles singalong, “Yellow Submarine” is catchier, funnier, less bludgeoning and more adaptable.
4
i thought you were in julia’s gang?
I’m in Murray the K’s gang – he’s the Fifth Beatle!
I’m with Polythene Pam’s gang
Not ten minutes ago I woke up from a dream in which – among many many other things – I got involved in a conversation about Hey Jude. I of course attempted to draw from this thread, but got a little muddled somewhere in the discussion. I do remember specifically wanted to come here and explain my grand theory that the two greatest lines are the two “shoulder” bits, especially the “the movement you need is on your shoulder,” on the grounds that it was the most vulnerable thing Paul had ever written (????????)… I need to spend less time on the Internet…..
i think i speak for the entire thread community when i draw the OPPOSITE CONCLUSION dr casino :D
I’m chiming in late on this one. I have had very different experiences with this song. As a child I disliked it. I found it turgid, maudlin and compared to their previous output just boring – this was the first Beatles single to sound ‘down’ (according to my young ears) and actually was the beginning of the end of my love affair with them. I think I moved on very swiftly to The Monkees around this time. I actually don’t recall the end being that long because I suspect radio DJs talked inanely over it. However as an adult re-assessing my love of the Beatles I can see it has it’s merits and I even caught myself singing along to it during one of Maccas concerts – it suits that environment very well. On record though it still struggles to ignite and leaves me feeling cold. Whatever Paul’s intentions are the emotion doesn’t reach me. It does sound like a group in its death throes as Tom has accurately pointed out.
‘here we come, walking down the street…………………’
ITF
To me, this song is an example of the Silent Generation (those born before & during WWII; Boomers come afterwards, of course) talking directly to what would become Generation X; “And don’t you know that it’s just you?/Hey Jude, you’ll do.” The Silent Generation’s general faith that GenX would turn out to be okay without much help from their elders, parents, what-have-you…(for more on this, 13th Gen tells the whole story…)…is poignant as hell to me, as is McCartney’s encouraging of himself vis a vis his own life (also fits the pattern of the Silents…) “Hey Jude, don’t be afraid.” He is singing to himself as much as young Julian.
Sorry if this is obscure but I was one when this was a hit and must have heard it so many times then and only now do I hear it in a different way.
As for being a downer: the local ‘classic rock’ station here had its usual big Labor Day Weekend countdown and “Hey Jude” sounds downright merry compared to the songs just before (“Hotel California” & “Stairway to Heaven”) and the only song to best it, “Comfortably Numb.” (Yes, it’s still a battle between Led Zep & The Beatles, with the Stones somewhere in the background, and Pink Floyd at #1 again.) But I can understand its seeming ‘down’ at the time.
HEY JUDE :A couple of intersting things about this tune that I just read…..
1) The hand writen lyrics ( not sure which version ) were bought by Julian Lennon at an auction of Beatles personal memorabilia. He paid 25,00.00 British Pounds for them in 1997.
2) During Lennon’s lost weekend in the States he was asked if the song was written for Julian. He replied that it was written for Brian Epstein and was originally called ” Gay Jew ” !!!!
to Brian: That’s absolute rubbish. The song “Hey, Jude” was written by Paul McCartney, in his car as he was driving to visit Cynthia and Julian to comfort them in the wake of the divorce. The lyrics were originally “Hey, Jules,” but “jude” was easier to sing because the of the ‘s’.
However, John did think that Paul was telling him to “go and get” Yoko as his love. He figured that “Jude” was some sort of code for Paul.
Code for “John”, rather. *curses her typing*
Why the bloody hell would someone write a whole article jsut to critisize this beautiful song. You sir, are a wanker!
I think it is a wonderful song, considering it was one of Mr. Campbell’s earliest compositions.
An oddly apt song to end up as a corporate-backed Flashmob singalong.
I swear I would not have been able to restrain myself from committing acts of violence on those people, had I accidentally stumbled upon it. Horrific.
It’s proven stupidity is a legend that never exsisted.While we blossom and dance the earth in all our early nude retirement gear.Our diplomas become old old memories.But of this illness thousands of college graduates receive,its similar to a pink panther cartoon starring Wedesday Ash.Life is just to much for the events that lay ahead of them.They were working their little heads off for years,only in time to find life is shit.As they should be instatutionulized ,for believing they were any kind of gift from God.
I’m not planning to make a habit of dipping into the archives of Popular to leave comments (not yet, anyway), but this one has been nagging at me a while. Through my Popular-inspired researches I’ve realised that “Hey Jude” must be my earliest musical memory other than nursery rhymes. It was number one in Australia for thirteen weeks, when I was nine to twelve months old, and I remember it being around – on radio, presumably. When I next encountered it in any kind of sustained way (on a Beatles singles compilation at age 15) it gave the strongest sense of deja vu of any of their songs, possibly because it wasn’t a radio staple through most of my childhood (too long, presumably, or our DJs had been burnt out on it), so I couldn’t pinpoint where I’d heard it before.
So for me this is like “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep”: it’s not just music, it is music. I don’t listen to it much nowadays, and there are many Beatles songs I prefer, but McCartney tapped into something deep here, that his music could make such an impression on someone who couldn’t even talk. (I can’t give it a rating. How do you rate Music?)
Lena’s comment #57 feels spot on to me, and for similar reasons: my parents are the same age as the fabs, and I’m the same age she was. I can think of far worse songs with far worse messages to have at the heart of your musical memories.
I look at my little guy sometimes, age two and half, and wonder what his “Hey Jude” will be.
To the person who waffled about Menlove Avenue and working class hero, have you even READ the lyrics of that song? I think you have completely misunderstood the song. John never considered himself the working class hero, it’s not about him. I also find your over emphasis on class to be weird. John was middle class and was great, George was working class and he was great too. Their class is meaningless.
Lennon always admired the line “The movement you need is on your shoulder” and the song is actually a prime example of a classical Macca melody, which is then completely bollocksed by that ludicrous fade, which itself was obediently taken up as a footy chant by all and sundry. I have never understood why George Martin didn’t put his foot down here. “Hey Jude” could have been cut by a good two minutes and then you can start to make it better.
Okay, sorry.
Rory at 66: How do you rate music? Here’s your answer:
http://www.theonion.com/content/news/pitchfork_gives_music_6_8
I’d guess George Martin didn’t put his foot down because he couldn’t – he wanted to trim the White Album down to a single but the group disagreed.
My two cents. Paul was trying to keep the group together (John and George were both itching to get out) with an inclusive song that reached for the personal (are there any other Popular entries about a bandmate’s offspring?) and the universal (1968 was a year of mass demonstration, after all, which probably had some bearing on the coda). The screeching – not my favourite part – is Paul channeling their pre-fame sound, their love of Little Richard, reminding the others of their roots, attempting to take the group forward. In this respect alone, it’s a hell of a lot more successful and enjoyable than the Let It Be/Get Back debacle.
As for specifically writing a terrace anthem, it’s nigh on impossible – there’s no ‘obedience’ involved (anyone remember the Shamen at Highbury? Or, conversely, why Bristol Rovers fans sing Goodnight Irene?).
So the ending’s too long, it’s no biggie. Tape it and fade it a bit earlier. Likewise, make your own single White Album and lose Ob La Di/Honey Pie/Rev 9/Savoy Truffle, whatevs.
Possible unlikely inspiration – the Bee Gees’ Words for that super-compressed piano sound. That was Maurice Gibb’s major contribution to their sixties recordings: Ringo was best mates and neighbours with Maurice and Lulu, QED.
(this is possibly the only thread on Popular that pisses me off, makes me cross, and bored).
Nice link, wichita lineman!
Most of my early listening to the White Album was Revolution-9-free (although I kept the “can you take me back” lead-in), because it wouldn’t fit on a C90 unless you cut something.
so it goes:
http://tinyurl.com/yhxeoeu
Finally (and by happy coincidence) Then Play Long reaches the White Album:
http://nobilliards.blogspot.com/2009/10/beatles-beatles.html
Tom,
I can’t help thinking that the review and rating for this song smack of iconoclasm for its own sake. While I accept your basic argument that “Hey Jude” is overrated, I think you’ve given in to the common critical fallacy (to which Beatles criticism is especially prone) of over-stating the case for the purpose of appearing edgy and controversial. While all criticism is necessarily subjective, it should always be balanced and I think you’ve had a (relatively rare) lapse here. The coda may well be too long, and McCartney’s ad libs somewhat contrived, but even so the song’s overall merits surely make it a curate’s egg rather than the dud suggested by a “4″ rating. That you should rank this enduring standard lower than, say, Brotherhood of Man’s “Angelo” or Bucks Fizz’s “My Camera Never Lies” betrays a lack of perspective.
Finally, critically comparing “Hey Jude” with “Yellow Submarine” is as pointless as rating a Bentley against a Mini.
Yes, it’s better than “Angelo” I grant you.
Going back over the band’s career with the reissues I’ve come around to this one a fair bit – should’ve been a six perhaps.
It’s a football chant. “Na na na nanana na, nanana na (insert team/player here)”.
I can’t get my head around the criticism of the coda on this – to me that’s the best bit of it – its called a groove and a song has a groove or it doesn’t and when it does you don’t want it to end – and ‘Hey Jude’ most defintely gets into a wicked groove. ‘Hot Love’ by T Rex is another one of my absolute favourites and I just want it to go on forever.
For those who moan about it just turn it off when you get bored.
I’ve never understand people complaining about records going on to long if you dont like it just reach for the off button but if I’m compleely immersed in a track I you want it to go on as long as possible.Hence thats why I love the way my favourite hard trance tracks are usually 8-10 minutes long.And Tangerine Dream or Klaus Schulze anything from 25 minutes to over 50 minutes long…in those cases taking you to another world.
It similar to people complaining about novels going on to long if you’re really sucked into for instance a sprawling Victorian novel why would you want it to end. When I read George Eliot’s “Middlemarch” the perfectly realised world of a Victorian small town and the characters who inhabited it was so peerlessly created and real that I dreaded the pages dwindling as I neared the end of its 800 pages.
This impatience to finish books, or records rto me smacks of the modern plague of instant gratification short attention spans and only a superficial appreciation of the works in question.
Thank goodness George Martin didn’t have is way…
My brother tells me that Hey Jude was written for Donovan Leitch, whose nickname was Jude. This is the first I’ve heard of this, only heard that
it was written for Julian. Has anyone else heard of the Donovan connection?
Proto-poptimist Nik Cohn reconsiders The White Album (starts when the slider indicates about 18 mins left) and decides it’s less godawful than he thought in 1968:
http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/tag/nik-cohn/
An interesting listen, Mark M, thanks.
That *was* a good listen. Thanks. Interesting for me to – ahem – finally be forced to grasp that Acid and Speed are completely different things (and that the difference was socially crucial in the late ’60s). I guess sometime as a kid I learned that acid was LSD and then assumed that ‘speed’ was just a synonym based on a pun and contraction from LSZ = limited speed zone. Amazing that it’s taken me 30 years to straighten out this misunderstanding o’ mine!
Cohn in 2011 explaining some of his allergic reaction to The White Album at the time (when he was 22):
“You can’t *imagine* the level of adulation there was for The Beatles in ’68 and how *nauseating* it was to be told endlessly that the universe had begun, as it were, with Sergeant Pepper, that all the answers were posessed…. [that] They were the containers of all human wisdom and genius.”
Haw haw. I hope Rosie listens to the interview (and reads Cohn’s original review) and shares her take on it with us.
swanstep @ 81
Well of course the universe didn’t begin with Sgt Pepper, it began with Rubber Soul{1}!
Nik Cohn is entitled to his view. I agree with him sometimes – he, like me but evidently not like Tom, thought House of the Rising Sun a great record (see entry for same). But he isn’t some kind of omniscient deity, he’s a better-than-average critiquer of popular music when he’s not in danger of disappearing up his own rectum. He has his own likes and dislikes and he has been exposed to particular cultural environments, most of which I’ve never been anywhere near. I had my own cultural influences mostly drawn from places as angry and menacing and exciting as the Wirral and suburban Hertfordshire. All the same I know enough to know that the universe didn’t begin with anything by the Beatles, not even Love Me Do, any more than it began with Tutti Frutti or Anarchy in the UK or Autobahn or, for that matter, Sumer is icumen in.
I was also 14, not 22, when the White Album came out. I was given it, at my own request, for Christmas that year. It was one of the numbered ones and it was nicked when I was in the 6th form but there you go. I thought it a rum old thing, with some brilliant bits, some god-awful bits, and some bits that just felt like they were there to make up the numbers. As far as I remember, most people responded to the White Album pretty much as I did. It was the first album they had done without Brian Epstein to keep them in order, their stock was so high that EMI let them do more-or-less what they wanted to in the studio, and the result was something like what happens when you turn a bunch of adolescent boys loose in a paint factory. Actually, 43 years on I feel much better disposed to the White Album; even to the dreaded Revolution 9 since I’ve been exposed to a good deal more musique concrète. That was Yoko’s contribution I believe. Only Wild Honey Pie still eludes me but even there I feel something like being confronted with a fiendishly difficult crossword to solve.
Cohn makes much of comparing TWA unfavourable to Beggar’s Banquet. As a one-off, BB is undoubtedly a very fine album and a much better one than TWA taken as a slice of the time. Of course at 14 you weren’t supposed to like the Beatles and the Stones although any actual rivalry was a friendly one. There was mutual admiration and influence but they were chalk and cheese. The Beatles as essentially provincial as the Stones were essentially metropolitan – compare the urbane, confident Jagger with the sarcastic, self-doubting Lennon – and that provincialism spoke to us provincials. The Stones did one thing and they did it supremely well – basically snark whether raw aggressive sexual snark or reptilian, creepy snark. They did snark better than the Beatles, but then the Beatles did it first. They took it from the Beatles and ran with it. They’ve been running with it ever since and for quite a long time I’ve been feeling they look ever more pathetic with every passing year. Meanwhile the Beatles could have run out of steam half a dozen times, but they kept reinventing themselves. Beatles For Sale sounds to me like a farewell, an acknowledgement that the Stones and the Kinks and the Who had picked up the baton and were racing ahead. But no, there was always something surprising to come. Cohn charges them with narcissism. Of course they were bloody narcissistic, especially Lennon who was also a bully and all-round bastard (there were mitigating circumstances. It’s precisely that narcissism that fuelled the Beatles phenomenon. The Stones could trade on raw, unchanging rocking for nigh-on fifty yearts but the Beatles couldn’t stand still, they wanted to be ahead of the game, they got bored easiuly and wanted to try new things. The new things often worked; a lot of the time (especially on TWA) they either didn’t work or their audience simple wasn’t ready for it. But there were always others to pick up the broken pieces and work on them.
Of course, the best thing the Beatles ever did was to break up when they knew the game was up, when each of them knew they wanted to beat their own path. What remains is legend – nothing any of them ever did on their own comes close to what they did together. But it still bears repeating – that much of what others did for decades afterwards owes a huge debt to that restless narcissism.
I’m not sure that what I finished writing has anything to do with what I started writing but there you go. No, I haven’t listened to the podcast. I started out to do so but couldn’t be doing with the rest of the podcast.
{1} Actually I’d rate Sgt Pepper as only 3rd or 4th (depending on how I feel about Rubber Soul in any given day.
You can fast-forward past the Paramore bit, you know…
@Rosie/enitharmon. Thanks for that – great stuff. I do hope you get around to hearing Cohn talk about acid-bores, etc.. The whole energy of the period is fascinating to me!
Thanks for that post Rosie – only just read it: really good comment.
I find the White Album hard to get through, I admit, it’s probably my least favourite Beatles record (actually no, Let It Be is worse). I dunno if it’s linked upthread but Marcello’s Then Play Long take on it is really worth reading – a real extended wrestle with the record which makes the best case I’ve read for taking it as a unity.
I seem to think everything is really real this morning, man.
#85 – linked by me in post #72.
DESERT ISLAND DISCS WATCH:
Rachael Hayhoe, poet(1969)
Kenneth Allsop, writer(1971)
Alan Pascoe, Hurdler(1976)
John Hurt, actor(1984)
Ismail Merchant, film producer(1986)
Sue Lawley, broadcaster(1987)
Brendan Foster, runner(1988)
Keith Floyd, TV Chef(1990)
Carmen Callil, writer, publisher(1992)
John Updike, writer(1995)
Gordon Brown, politician(1996)
Richard Noble, driver(1998)
Martin Pipe, horse trainer(1999)
Rolf Harris, musician, artist(1999)
Professor Raymond Tallis, poet(2007)
Lord David Cobbold, Owner of Knebworth House (2010).
I get more and more fond of this song. I used to hate it but it now I don’t want it to end. It’s like an iceberg floating by.