The Beatles' “It's All Too Much” might just be their greatest psychedelic record
I've been listening to The Beatles for years, and the more I return to George Harrison's “It's All Too Much”, the more convinced I become that it's one of the finest things they ever recorded. Not simply an underrated George song or an overlooked curiosity from Yellow Submarine, but a genuinely magnificent piece of psychedelic rock that deserves to sit alongside “Strawberry Fields Forever”, “Tomorrow Never Knows” and “A Day in the Life”.
What gets me every time is just how gloriously excessive the whole thing sounds. That opening blast of distorted guitar feedback could almost belong to a shoegaze record from the late eighties, before the Hammond organ comes swirling in, Ringo starts battering away at the drums and the whole thing takes off into six minutes of beautifully controlled chaos. There's something wonderfully contradictory about George singing so serenely about love and spiritual enlightenment while the band makes an almighty racket behind him.
Recorded in 1967, shortly after Sgt. Pepper, it captures The Beatles at that extraordinary point when they seemed to have stopped worrying about what a pop record ought to sound like. The production is enormous, the guitars are filthy, the brass is practically bursting out of the speakers and the whole arrangement feels as though it could collapse under its own weight at any moment. Yet beneath all that noise is a cracking melody and an infectious sense of joy.
And Ringo deserves a special mention because I honestly think this is among his finest performances. His drumming gives the track its momentum, with those wonderful rolling fills and crashing accents holding everything together while the music threatens to disappear into the stratosphere. McCartney's bass is equally impressive, giving the song a muscular foundation that makes the whole psychedelic extravaganza properly rock.
The background to the song is fascinating too. Harrison later explained that it came from the insights he'd experienced through LSD, which he subsequently found echoed in meditation. You can hear that sense of overwhelming wonder throughout the record. Rather than the slightly self-conscious mysticism that occasionally crept into late-sixties rock, this feels like someone genuinely trying to communicate how extraordinary it is simply to be alive.
Interestingly, George wasn't entirely pleased with the finished article, later complaining about the “damn trumpets” that had been overdubbed onto it. Personally, I think they're brilliant. That gloriously overblown brass gives the song an almost celebratory madness, as though a Salvation Army band has stumbled into a psychedelic freak-out and decided to join in.
Music journalist Peter Doggett has recognised the track as a high point of British acid rock, while Rob Sheffield of Rolling Stone included it among his five greatest psychedelic freak-outs. Steve Hillage also recorded a terrific version, and the song has attracted covers from the likes of Journey, The Grateful Dead and The House of Love. Clearly, quite a few musicians have heard something special in it.
Looking through discussions on r/beatles, I'm struck by how many people make the same observation: this record sounds remarkably modern. Some hear early heavy rock, others hear shoegaze or the sort of psychedelic noise that King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard would happily make today. There's also plenty of appreciation for Ringo's drumming, alongside the perennial debate about whether the song would be far more celebrated had it appeared on Sgt. Pepper or Magical Mystery Tour.
I think that last point is particularly interesting because its placement on Yellow Submarine probably did it no favours. Released in January 1969, long after the original sessions, the soundtrack has always been treated as something of a minor Beatles album, especially with George Martin's orchestral score occupying an entire side. Yet “It's All Too Much”, “Hey Bulldog” and “Only a Northern Song” contain some of the most adventurous music they ever made. It's remarkable how easily brilliant records can get lost simply because of the album they happen to appear on.
What I love most, though, is that for all its experimental ambition, “It's All Too Much” is such an uplifting listen. It's noisy, repetitive, sprawling and completely over the top, but that's precisely why it works. The repetition becomes hypnotic, the feedback becomes strangely beautiful and by the time the brass and backing vocals are piling up towards the end, it feels like the entire record is about to burst with excitement. Even the little lyrical nod to The Merseys' “Sorrow” is a lovely touch, bringing a bit of familiar Merseybeat into George's cosmic universe.
For me, this is George Harrison at his most adventurous, and arguably The Beatles at their most uninhibited. It might not have the compositional sophistication of “A Day in the Life” or the emotional depth of “Something”, but as a piece of sheer psychedelic exhilaration, I'm not sure they ever bettered it.
Six minutes of feedback, love, spiritual wonder and glorious noise. It's a masterpiece hiding in plain sight, and every time I play it, I wonder why it isn't mentioned more often when people discuss the band's greatest achievements.
So, am I getting carried away, or does anyone else think “It's All Too Much” belongs right up there with the very best Beatles records? And would it have a completely different reputation if it had appeared on Sgt. Pepper rather than Yellow Submarine?