You Won't See Me (Do Myself In)

[thewarpedvinyljunkie]

This post may have little, if any, interest to many of you. But while I'm not (and will probably never be) a member of the Beatles Remixers Group or anything like that, I thought I would share with y'all a little bit of fun I had a few years back, and its (unintended but amazing) aftermath in my own mind. And, by the way, if you're not familiar with Maelzel's Metronome (you can figure out from that reference that I started my piano studies long, long ago), change "MM ♩=" to "BPM" below.

"You Won't See Me" has always been in my personal top 10% of the Beatles catalogue. (I generally tend to prefer sad songs to happy ones, anyway.) While I adored it, it always left me with a feeling of malaise. I have no idea how many times I had listened to it in the first fifteen or so years of its release, but sometime around late 1981 or early 1982, on a lazy Sunday afternoon at my then-girlfriend's house, we were listening, as was our wont, to records. She was an oldies fan, I was our city's first oldies DJ, and we both adored the Mop Tops. "Rubber Soul" (Capitol stereo) happened to be our choice de la demi-heure, and partway through "Norwegian Wood" she got up to fix herself another wine spritzer.

When she returned, three or four minutes later, I had had a Satori. Or something like it. I told her she had to listen to this, and listen to it very carefully. I went to the turntable and started "You Won't See Me" over again. A minute or so into it, I asked her, "Do you hear it yet?" She had no idea what I was referring to, so I said, "Listen to how the song continually slows down." And it didn't take but a few seconds till she heard it--the ritardando that takes place within each line, with a partial return to the original tempo at the end of each line, and another, more deliberate return to a slightly faster tempo at the end of each verse and chorus.

I had always wondered why "You Won't See Me" had always had such a visceral effect on me, and my realization (all those years later) that it was full of repeated rallentandi clinched it for me. Whether it was a deliberate choice on the part of Paul and the boys, something George Martin thought would add to the poignancy of the performance, or just a case of Ringo not having had a good night's sleep before, the point was the same: "You Won't See Me" works so well, at least partially, I assumed, because of the relaxation of tempo that occurs almost continually throughout it. That was, at least, the conjecture I came up with on that cold afternoon.

A couple or three decades later, when Sound Forge was available for home use and Purple Chick was all over the net, I happened to be listening to Rubber Soul again, and remembered my epiphany. To the (computer) keyboard I went, and placed "markers" in a copy of "You Won't See Me" at every beat...and then looked to see what the story was. I saw that the length of each beat region throughout the song varied between 0.461 seconds (the shortest region, near the end of the first verse; MM ♩=130) and 0.588 seconds (the longest, near the end of the last verse before the fade; MM ♩=102).

Well, it was no time at all till I started to test my hypothesis, that the song's repeated slowing contributed greatly to my inner malaise (which, in my case, is a positive thing--I told you I liked sad songs). So I took the beat sections and altered each to match certain tempi. In changing the length of each section, I did retain the pitch, so the whole song would stay in the key of A (isn't digital technology wonderful?). I started with the opening tempo (0.481; MM ♩=125) and set each section to that length. Immediately I discovered a new almost-happy pop song--"You Won't See Me" at a constant tempo, with the "La, la-la" sections making you feel like you're having a good day, sunshine!

Emboldened by my discovery, I tried several other tempi from the song. The average (0.518; MM ♩=116) was, well, just average; it didn't show me anything special--becoming sort of, well, like an average Mickie Most production. Neither did setting every beat to the closing tempo (0.546; MM ♩=110), as if they were working towards the finale's specific tempo, which puts the performance somewhere in Hollyridge Strings territory. But then, I thought, well, if the fastest beat was fast enough, and the slowest beat was slow enough, then how about trying those speeds? Well, let me tell you: at 0.461 (the fastest speed; MM ♩=130) you have Dave Seville (albeit not at a Chipmunk pitch) meets Jonathan King (at his Smurpiest). At least that's the vibe I get from it.

But at 0.588 (the slowest; MM ♩=102), I have to say, even for a fan such as myself of songs like "Gloomy Sunday" and "Lush Life," what "You Won't See Me" becomes is practically a dirge, almost too lugubrious not to incite clinical depression. It is extremely difficult listening, and if you're already having a bad day, don't even think about playing this version. You listen, and you think (or at least, I listen and I think), "What has Jane done to Paul to make him feel like this...and what have I done to myself by listening to this?" It is indeed simply painful: the "La, la-la" background vocals mock your sadness, and while Ringo's drum fills turn into the battering ram that will destroy you, John and George's repeated "ooooh" (which should calm and assure you) only serves as the knife twisting in you, bringing any remaining joie de vivre to a bitter end.

Years after my inamorata and I wallowed in the beautiful stickiness of this arrangement, writers like Jonathan Gould and Robert Fontenot, among others, picked out the slowing tempo and commented on it, blaming practically all of it on Paul's piano playing. Well, maybe they're right. If Paul was as sad over his problems with Jane as the slowest remix (that's the only word I can find for the tempo changes I made) makes it sound, then he could very well have unwittingly slowed his playing down, little by little, in a combination of physical and mental responses to that pain. Or it could be, as the testing of my theorem seems to indicate, a very specifically planned attempt to make what could have been either bright and cheerful, or painful and depressing, neither of those things, but rather an intense expression of pain, couched in a half-smile (see "Laughing on the Outside, Crying on the Inside" for an obvious example), and resulting in an amazing song that was the perfect track to follow "Norwegian Wood" on either side of the Atlantic.

Here's all six aforementioned versions. Good for a week. See what you think.

hxxps://we.tl/t-HHfMRm4292

[BTL1210]

Thank you for sharing.

[alphabeatles]

Very interesting! Great catch.

Now for a really sad and scary song, play Hello Goodbye backwards...:

"Yes they'e out to get me I run hard
Running hard...
Running with my hands tied
They're out to get me!
Whoa whoa"

[paul62]

Years after my inamorata and I wallowed in the beautiful stickiness of this arrangement, writers like Jonathan Gould and Robert Fontenot, among others, picked out the slowing tempo and commented on it, blaming practically all of it on Paul's piano playing. Well, maybe they're right. If Paul was as sad over his problems with Jane as the slowest remix (that's the only word I can find for the tempo changes I made) makes it sound, then he could very well have unwittingly slowed his playing down, little by little, in a combination of physical and mental responses to that pain. Or it could be, as the testing of my theorem seems to indicate, a very specifically planned attempt to make what could have been either bright and cheerful, or painful and depressing, neither of those things, but rather an intense expression of pain, couched in a half-smile (see "Laughing on the Outside, Crying on the Inside" for an obvious example), and resulting in an amazing song that was the perfect track to follow "Norwegian Wood" on either side of the Atlantic.

Interesting read! I'll take a listen to the tracks you've shared.

Might be that Paul and the others indulged in herbal jazz cigarettes prior to the session (and the effects of smoking those wreaked havoc on their time-keeping). Looks like it was recorded in two takes, late at night, with great haste and a deadline looming: might be the case that the final master was made by editing the two takes, so any tempi differences between the two takes would be compounded when sections from both takes are juxtaposed in an edited track.

I like the track shortened, with centred vocals: here's something to download and enjoy -

You Won't See Me (paul62's special remixed and edited down version)

hxxps://we.tl/t-dB7FfGIC2N

[paul62]

Might as well have another version!

You Won't See Me (paul62's special remixed and edited down version) v2

hxxps://we.tl/t-n1rAzMDFZ6

[WilliamShears]

Here's all six aforementioned versions. Good for a week. See what you think.

hxxps://we.tl/t-HHfMRm4292

Very interesting and thanks for sharing!

[thewarpedvinyljunkie]

Thanks, all. I rarely do anything like this (I'm more a listener than a tinkerer) so I'm glad some of you found it interesting enough to comment. Interesting mixes you have there, too, Paul62, and well worth the listen! As a matter of fact, V2 may be my new go-to version.

[Applejam101]

Hi thewarpedvinyljunkie,

a very interesting project. The slow and fast version are such a juxtaposition to each other. Wow. Thanks for sharing these.

I think both were worthy of the BRG.

[Kwai Chang]

How does one answer that?
432 mono at RIAA EQ w/ Echo?
I'm sure Paul's piano is exactly how he wants it. George Martin wouldn't have missed that. G.M. trusted their instincts by this time. This wasn't Goons!
There is something about Beatles music that defies any attempt at its explanation. Yet, I don't think they have any knowledge of exactly what it is. They are most likely melody savants with a penchant for meter, rhyme, rhythm, Alpha, Delta, Theta and other diametric opposition regarding rigid classical music theory. The Beatles have natural instincts about music that have resulted in music that is truly new. It might not even sound different yet the nuance is able to trigger new depths of musical immersion. To become the music might only be a matter of tempo fluctuation or maybe just a rampant imagination. It might be the result of absolutely nothing. But, for me, Beatles music is a labyrinth that brings my own psyche into alignment with primal influences like magnetism, color, shape, sequence, et cetera. I am not a musician. I don't know how or why. Stare at a painting properly and you fall into it. It happens musically. Suddenly, you are underwater. That's how Beatles music affects me. I'm sure they don't know it happens. It just sounds right to them. Aeolian cadence??? Not recently!
KC

[BTL1210]

Thanks paul62 for your 2 remixes.