Three Guys, Twelve Songs

As the title suggests, it was 40 years ago this week that the Beatles released Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, and the importance of the anniversary can hardly be overstated. The release of the album marked an incredibly pivotal point in pop music – and by pop music, I’m referring to the larger genre of “music we listen to” versus simply “That which hits the Top-40 chart,” because Sgt. Pepper really did effect just about everything that came after it.
First, it was the first album the Beatles released with absolutely no intention to tour on, so the focus became to produce a cohesive album, rather than merely a collection of songs. I’ve discussed at length the supposed “death of the album” that many have declared as the popularity of electronic downloads has increased. Sgt. Pepper really marked the birth of the album (and, to a lesser extent, the concept album). That we’re actually even talking about the death of the “album” is indicative of the impact
Sgt. Pepper had.
Sgt. Pepper also made a difference in the way we listen to music. In 1967, FM radio was a novelty – think HD radio today – AM was king. But Sgt. Pepper lacked singles to play on AM radio. It was the fringe stations on FM that really brought the album to the airwaves – not that it was tremendously necessary, this is the frickin’ Beatles we’re talking about.
But the fact that these stations were playing tracks from the album did a lot to woo listeners to the relatively new band. It would be an enormous stretch to pin the popular demise of AM radio on Sgt. Pepper – that would be a much slower, more complicated saga – what can be said is that Sgt.Pepper marked a turning point for radio.
And, finally, the album marked the Beatles really coming into their own. I mentioned above that they had decided they were not going to tour anymore (for good reason), and freed from that constraint you can really see both the beginning and the end of the Beatles in Sgt. Pepper. Creatively, they’re absolutely at the top of their game. But the fractured nature of the album, with such disparate tracks as “With a Little Help From My Friends” nestled up against “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds,” also demonstrated that the band was at a crossroads between incredible personal artistic growth (which would ultimately drive them apart), and public popularity. Don’t get me wrong, that fractured nature represents part of what makes Sgt. Pepper so goddamn great, but it would be a disservice to the 40 years that has passed to overlook it.
Ultimately, any piece of art that stands up after four decades – and few artistic creations of the 20th century hold their relevancy after so many years like Sgt. Pepper – Sgt. Pepper resists becoming iconified, rather it sounds just as vibrant and living as it must have in 1967 – though with the tens of thousands of imitators and influenced who have come since, it certainly doesn’t sound nearly as revolutionary as it must have. But, to end, I want to wish Sgt. Pepper a very happy birthday. We’re all better for it, and hopefully we’ll have a remastered edition in time for the 41st birthday.