24. Yesterday (Help!, 1965)
Beatles version:
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I didn't purposefully rank "Helter Skelter" and "Yesterday" next to each other, but I like the way this turned out, showing the incredible diversity of the Beatles and in particular the breadth of Paul's songwriting talent. As Yankee mentioned above, Paul somehow developed this reputation as the soft, "ballad" guy despite having written songs that in my opinion showed much wider range than the others, so he wanted to write the hardest rock song he could, specifically to out-rock The Who, and I think he accomplished that.
But we're not here to talk about "Helter Skelter"! We've moved on! Instead I'll discuss what is merely the most covered and most played song in history. The song was innovative at the time for using a string quartet, redefining what "pop" or "rock" could be. It was also the first solo song by a Beatle, since no others joined Paul on the recording. Unlike when they were going their separate ways on, for instance, the White Album, this wasn't a sign of splintering of the group, but instead was confirmation of its strength and security. It's not that Paul didn't want to include anyone else, but that when he played the song to the others, they liked it and couldn't come up with any way to improve upon it, suggesting to Paul that he should record it solo. Paul recorded his vocal and guitar in only a couple of takes, thinking the song was done.
Naturally, it was George Martin who then suggested adding the string quartet instead of finishing there, which Paul was initially skeptical of, believing that it wouldn't be proper for a rock group. Martin convinced him to give it a try, assuring Paul they would just drop the string part if it didn't work. They sat down together the next day at Martin's house to see if they could sketch it out. Paul described this collaboration: “We’d sit down and it would be quite straightforward because I’d have a good idea of how I wanted to voice it. Or George would show me possibilities... There was just one point in it where I said, ‘Could the cello now play a slightly bluesy thing, out of the genre, out of keeping with the rest of the voicing?’ George said, ‘Bach certainly wouldn’t have done that, Paul.’ I said, ‘Great!’ I mean, obviously it was my song, my chords, my everything really, but because the voicing now had become Bach’s, I needed something of mine again to redress the balance. So I put a 7th in, which was unheard of. It’s what we used to call a blue note, and that became a little bit well known. It’s one of the unusual things in that arrangement.” (You can hear this "blue note" just after "she wouldn't say" in the second bridge.)
The melody for "Yesterday" first came to Paul in a dream. When he awoke, it seemed so familiar that Paul was afraid he had inadvertently copied an existing song, so he played it for a few friends who all confirmed they'd never heard it before. The lyrics didn't come in the dream, though; as a placeholder, he initially sang the opening lines as "scrambled eggs, oh, my baby, how I love your legs." I still sing the song aloud as "scrambled eggs" to amuse myself juvenilely.
I love that this song is more subtle than many of the other Paul "love" songs. I do appreciate how the song establishes itself immediately with the word "yesterday," followed by a 1/2 beat too long pause, to tell us that we're going to spend the rest of our time evoking loss. We don't really know what happened - the song actually has few differing lyrics - but somehow it still kindles a compelling sense of loss without those descriptors. The song also doesn't reach a resolution, as John pointed out in an interview as a possible flaw, but that doesn't make it incomplete. So much of life remains unresolved that I think this sense of its being incomplete is what makes the song so universally understood and appreciated. Who among us hasn't had a relationship end in an unsettled fashion? I'd expect we all have experienced that feeling of an incomplete ending, for which we'll not ever get the answers we want.
In terms of the music itself, of course I love Paul's simple but poignant delivery. It's amazing that the guy who shredded in "Helter Skelter" can also capture such loneliness in a pure way, without being at all overwrought. The string arrangement, again a breakthrough at the time, is my favorite of George Martin's arrangements, though some credit goes to Paul for this as well; in agreeing to the strings, he insisted that they remain pure and without any vibrato. The arrangement's perfection is in supplementing the song without intruding on it, always finding ways to bring us back onto the vocal; for instance, listen for how the viola(s) provide a low harmony beginning partway through the third verse. And the melody...ohhhhh, uncomplicated as it might seem on the surface, there's so much going on, from the hopeful rise of the first line of each verse followed by the melancholic fall of the second... The way the last line of the verse enhances the longing and despondency by the drop off, "
yes-ter-da-a-a-ay"... The descending bass notes as a counterpoint to Paul's vocal rise on "
had to go"...
This is a song that, now that I've written it out, I wish I had put higher. Damn it.
Fun fact: Before recording it himself, Paul offered the song to two singers, Billy J. Kramer and Chris Farlowe, who each rejected it. Maybe a not-so-fun fact for those two guys.
Fun story: Paul was especially (understandably) proud of this song, which sometimes drove the other Beatles crazy. Paul claimed George once said, "Blimey, he's always talking about 'Yesterday'; you'd think he was Beethoven or somebody." But it was John who was sometimes irritated and sometimes amused by always being congratulated for his work on a song that he had little or nothing to do with: "I sat in a restaurant in Spain and the violinist insisted on playing 'Yesterday' right in my ear. Then he asked me to sign the violin. I didn't know what to say so I said 'OK,' and I signed it, and Yoko signed it. One day he's going to find out Paul wrote it. But I guess he couldn't have gone from table to table playing 'I Am The Walrus.'"
Mr. krista: ""It's anti-nostalgia. Not every break-up song can evoke regret like this. It reminds me of my favorite genre of literature, which can be described as 'old man sits in chair and reckons with troubling past and then either dies or doesn't, whichever is most tragic.' I usually don’t like the strings, but these seem in service of the song. I’d like to hear a naked version. I like hearing super-successful person in despair. It’s such a special song. When they’re just like everyone…regretting…"
Suggested cover: Marvin Gaye
this part.
See my comment just before yours. Think we both misunderstood. 
