The Dirty Mac (Eric Clapton, John Lennon, Mitch Mitchell, and Keith Richards) at the Rock and Roll Circus.

Welcome to the letter Y, an oasis of plenty in the desert at the end of the Beatles’ alphabet. The letter X was hard, as we have seen, and of course Zed could be brutal. But Y is an open house: a plethora of subjects, people, and songs. We have plenty of interesting topics from which to choose. Let us start very simply with the name of the letter itself. It may sound simple but of course when one utters it one is (perhaps inadvertently) posing what may be the most profoundly existential and philosophical question of them all:

“Why?”

But fear not, Ringo wrote and sang a song in which he (in his usual succinct and matter-of-fact way) provides as good an answer as any:

“Y Not”?

It was the title song of one of Ringo’s solo albums—a blues with a strong and entrancing groove, a terrific snare sound, and a very positive sentiment. The record was engineered by Bruce Sugar, and the song was co-written by Ringo with the remarkable producer and songwriter Glen Ballard. You know Glen from his work with Michael Jackson and Katy Perry and (perhaps most significantly) for having produced and co-written the whole of Alanis Morrisette’s extraordinary and hyper-successful album Jagged Little Pill.

I mentioned “Why?” as perhaps the most obviously existential question one can ask (and Ringo’s response of “Y Not”)—and surely, on the other hand, the most existentially positive statement one can make is “Yes It Is,” the title of a John Lennon Y song written for the Beatles, the B-side of “Ticket to Ride.” John thought he was writing a follow-up to “This Boy,” but it stands very well as a song (and record) on its own. It was recorded on February 16, 1965, the same day as “I Need You,” and George Harrison seemed to be particularly enthralled by his volume pedal (or his volume knob?), which he used to create those smooth swells, those elegant crescendos and diminuendos on his electric guitar on both songs.

Moving forward through the letter Y, I am now going to head towards a more obscure Beatles track, one that they did not record on any of their albums. As I have mentioned earlier, the Beatles, in addition to being brilliant songwriters themselves, admired many American songwriters, two of whom are Jerry Leiber & Mike Stoller, and another is Doc Pomus. John Lennon in particular was a devoted fan of the remarkable Doc Pomus and famously requested to sit next to him at a dinner in New York, where they spent the whole evening in rapt conversation.

I had not realized that the three American composers (Leiber, Stoller, and Pomus) had written together, but they did collaborate on a song called “Young Blood”—originally a Coasters record, which the Beatles sometimes covered in their live show. Luckily, they also performed it at the BBC, so a recording of their version does exist. I urge you to track it down. “Young Blood” had been the B-side of the Coasters’ huge hit single “Searchin’,” a song the Beatles also used to sing live and which they recorded as part of their unsuccessful audition for Decca Records.

Our next stop in the letter Y is a song that is a favourite of many Beatles fans, including me: “You’re Going to Lose That Girl.” One of the most brilliant things about this song is the way the Beatles put the chords together to get in and out of the bridge. The song virtually changes key for the bridge in a remarkable way. This kind of writing owes a lot to Buddy Holly, who took completely simple “normal” chords—not weird jazzy chords—and used them to move around through the keys in an odd and creative way. The verse (“If you don’t take her out tonight”) and chorus (“You’re gonna lose that girl”) are both clearly in E major with a lot of minor chords added (F-sharp minor and G-sharp minor), giving the song a mournful air—almost as if the writer were feeling sympathy for the “other man” about to suffer such a distressing loss. Yet then the bridge leaps from the F-sharp minor of the chorus into a world of major chords, travelling via a D major into the key of G major for a solid eight bars as the singer declares with absolute certainty, “I’ll make point of taking her away from you.”

This song was, of course, in Help!, the movie, as was our next Y song, “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away.” This is such a wildly catchy song and a powerful 6/8 groove, carried primarily by John’s emphatic acoustic guitar playing and Ringo’s bold tambourine. George’s twelve-string licks connect the dots as Paul fills out the bottom end. Breathtaking support for John’s intense vocal.

As was the case with “You’re Going to Lose That Girl,” a very important element of the song is the simple but unusual chord structure. There is also an equally simple little guitar motif which renders the chorus unforgettable—after every “Hide your love away” and starting on the “way.” Technically it is a Dsus4 and a D and a Dsus2 and back to a D. All that this really means is that the top string of the D chord on the guitar starts up a half step (playing a G rather than an F-sharp), moves down a half step (to play the F-sharp), down a full step (to play an E), and then back up to the F-sharp. Again, brilliantly simple, and it becomes a hook all on its own.

We have spent a lot of time with John, so let us move on to an excellent George Harrison song in the letter Y department. This one is a beautiful love song from the album called George Harrison. When the album was released in 1979, George said, “I think that what happened between this album and the last album is that everything has been happening nicely for me. My life is getting better all the time. I’m happy and I think that’s reflected in the music.” Most of this happiness came, of course, from his wonderful wife Olivia, and their newborn son, Dhani. This song was a perfect reflection of George’s state of mind at this time, and it is called “Your Love Is Forever.”

Sticking with songs of emotional power and content, there is an excellent Traveling Wilburys song that begins with the letter Y, a song called “You Took My Breath Away.” It features great singing not only from George Harrison but also from Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne. I believe that the song was written about Roy Orbison, who had recently died and had been a mentor and idol to the other Wilburys. I am not sure whether I read that or if it just sounds that way to me, but Roy Orbison’s singing could certainly take one’s breath away! A fitting tribute.

In much the same way, and as a tribute to an even older style of music, there is a sweet Wings song called “You Gave Me the Answer,” which sounds as if it could have been written and recorded about fifty years earlier. It features a muted trumpet, clarinet, bassoon, strings, and more—an old-time orchestra lineup surely not dissimilar to the one that was led by Paul’s father, who came of age musically in the 1920s. “You Gave Me the Answer” has the kind of Rudy Vallee/Fred Astaire vocal that Paul McCartney does so well—he even used an electronic filter on his voice (removing the lower frequencies) to simulate the lo-fi sound of an old-fashioned recording or even that of singing through a megaphone.

Turning back to the Beatles’ catalogue itself, we find many great Y songs to choose from. Of course, I am now forced to pay the price for having cheated in the letter U, where I discussed so many Y songs already. I thought it was so clever of me to talk about songs that begin with “You” under U, but now I question that decision. But not to fear—the Beatles have many other Y songs, and one of them is “Yer Blues,” from the White Album. Back then, in the midst of all the ongoing discussions about the “Blues Boom” happening in the UK, all the questions about why so many young musicians in Britain had fallen in love with the music of a whole other culture, John contributed this fine example of some white boys paying tribute to the blues. Sung and performed with an almost satirical enthusiasm—making fun not of their authentic blues heroes, for whom they had absolute respect, but rather of themselves and their colleagues. It is a standard blues in E major but with a couple of passing chords like a G major making it a bit different. And a time signature switching between 6/8 and a kind of jazzy swing. In some ways it reminds me of the James Taylor song “Steamroller”—itself a parody of the determination of the New York musicians of that era to come up with the “heaviest” blues ever.

I remember witnessing a live performance of “Yer Blues” many years ago when I attended a Rolling Stones event in London called the Rock and Roll Circus, which was being filmed for a TV show. It is out on video now (having been unreleased for many years), and you may have seen it. It looks kind of fun on the video, but I must tell you, the event itself was truly boring because it felt as if it went on forever. Filmed shows can often be like that, but this was worse than most. They kept stopping, they had to do stuff again, there would be giant gaps when something wasn’t working. I think I left at two or three in the morning, and they were certainly still going strong—I remember that the Stones themselves were onstage, but some technical hitch or other had brought things to a standstill again, and everyone was looking a bit worse for wear. But they did get some good recordings out of it, including a version of “Yer Blues” with a band featuring John Lennon, Mitch Mitchell, Eric Clapton, and Keith Richards—a one-off supergroup known as the Dirty Mac. The whole show does not seem unduly long in its edited, released version—but I have to say I’m glad I don’t have to sit through that again.

Another Y song from the Beatles is not one of my favourites, but it has become increasingly appreciated. It was the B-side of “Let It Be,” and it is probably the weirdest record the Beatles ever made. It owes a lot to groups like the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, particularly with the odd kind of singing and the spirit of parody in which the Beatles approach the whole song. It also reminds me of their affection for The Goon Show and Spike Milligan, who worked with George Martin. It is close to being a comedy record itself: “You Know My Name (Look Up the Number).” For me, it’s okay, if kind of goofy. I mean, everything the Beatles do is terrific, and I love listening to the record. But a favourite? I am always surprised by how often it is requested.

I am going to end with another Y song by the Beatles that is everyone’s favourite, “Yellow Submarine.” Children love it. Grown-ups love it. I love it. You love it.

The song was one-half of an extraordinary single that the Beatles released in 1966. It is an indication of Lennon & McCartney’s songwriting talent that they put out a single with two songs which have each become true classics, songs that are written in different styles, recorded in different styles, sung in different styles, and could well be from two completely different bands—but they are not. They are separate aspects of the genius of the Beatles. On one side, the humour and sonic creativity of “Yellow Submarine,” with its sound effects, its voices, its characters. And on the other side, “Eleanor Rigby.”

But for now, I can think of no better way to close our discussion of the letter Y than by joining the Beatles in an underwater singalong as we sail off in what could be the most famous submarine in the world—and I certainly do not have to tell you what colour it is. It is the only colour that begins with Y, anyway!