The Salacious Never-Before-Revealed True Story of the Beatles’ Yellow Album
by David A. Ek
This post differs from The Americopa Review (TAR)’s earlier offerings and from any previous Badwater Books release. I, David Ek, the creative force behind the TAR blog and the Badwater Books titles, chose a fresh, novel approach, since none of my works have yet gone viral or made the New York Times Best Sellers list. Nor have any been adapted into movies. (Lizard People: Death Valley Underground would make an excellent Netflix miniseries, I may add). Consequently, I investigated what is going viral and what is capturing the public’s and mass media’s attention. What is directing the frenzy away from my well-written, well-informed, entertaining, and thought-provoking writings? I found many commonalities. Building on these investigative findings, I incorporated typical viral-inducing elements into this latest TAR post. Since today also marks the 56th anniversary of the original release of the Beatles’ final recording, I delved into creating the never-before-told true story of the making of this Beatles classic—the beloved Yellow Album.
As most people know, every song on the Beatles Yellow Album is yellow-focused, yellow-inspired, and yellow-presented. But not until today (because of me) did anyone know what lay beyond these yellow-etched treasures. Not until now—through my exclusive reveal. (This will surely go viral!)
Who among us does not adore the lead song, “Yellow Submarine”? But did anyone know (before my insightful post) that originally, the Beatles planned to release this George Harrison-penned toon on their White Album? “Yellow Submarine” never made it on the White Album, because Harrison had already reached his two-song-per-album quota. George’s frustration with this omission led to a massive wah-wah and a heated exchange with McCartney.
While listening to and egging on this row, John, the egg man, Lennon suddenly came upon an idea. He envisioned that The Beatles had somehow strayed from the path of inner peace, inner truth, and inner love. Much like Badwater Books needs an attention-getting reset, Lennon believed the Beatles also needed a reset—one focused on humanity’s inner truth and beauty.
This, of course, led Lennon directly to thoughts of lemons. New age philosophers in India had only recently discovered that lemons, at a precise point within their life cycle, emit a frequency that can tap into every human cell, every plant cell, and every mineral cell. It is the only true frequency that can unite the entire non-MAGA universe. These New Age Indian philosophers discovered that lemons only emit this unifying frequency at the precise point when they turn from their immature green phase to their mature yellow form. Yellow’s power over the universe was mind-blowing for both Lennon and Ono. So much so that they thought it would be a universally truthful experience, as well as being creatively artsy, for them to develop a concept album centered on the emotional vibe given off by lemons during their heightened yellow phase. No Beatle would play on this album, only Yoko and lemons. Since the McCartney-Harrison spat was still going on, Lennon thought, clearly, they had not yet tapped into the harmonious lemon frequency.
However, as in the many other ideas that Lennon and Ono had at the time, this one quickly turned sour. Greenly sour. Before they had fleshed out their yellow lemon concept, McCartney, who never bought into John and Yoko’s yellow-vibe touchy-feely universal truth concept, had, without the knowledge of the other six Beatles, announced to the press that their next album would be called the Yellow Album—and that all the catchy hit-filled songs on it would be centered on the color yellow. Paul also envisioned turning this album into a movie, where all six Beatles would pile into a big yellow bus and tour America’s backroads while spontaneously filming every yellow sign they met along the way.
Lennon’s veins swelled red upon hearing that McCartney had co-opted his and Ono’s lemon-vibe concept and wanted to turn it into yet another mainstream commercial hit. He was also livid that McCartney had (as the green lemon Lennon accused him of being) prematurely made this announcement to Paul’s yellow journalistic syncopates. Lennon’s anger boiled over so much that the bitterly poignant words of a new song—”Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”—came to him in a fit of non-yellow lemon rage. In this latest song, Lennon cleverly employed the goodbye yellow brick road metaphor to not only imply that he wanted to say goodbye to the Beatles, but also to share with the world what he truly thought of McCartney’s revised Yellow Album concept and subsequent Yellow Bus tour.
In contrast to Lennon’s venom over McCartney’s press announcement, Harrison gleefully smiled and plotted. He suddenly saw McCartney’s Yellow Album concept as a perfect vehicle to not only release his cherished “Yellow Submarine” song, but also to showcase two of his newest pieces that just so happened to be yellow-centered. For “Yellow Jay Way,” he chose to color the jay yellow, since yellow represents the enlightenment and intellectual good of Lord Vishnu. Om Dum Durgaye Namah. While his Hindu jay is overtly yellow, he chose for his third yellow song something more subtle. Harrison believed his new “Lemon Tree” song was equally appropriate for the album, since the song deeply dipped in the yellow hues at more than one cosmically nuanced level. While the spiritual aspects of yellow are as obvious as the yellow dye impregnated into store-bought lemons, George believed his new “Lemon Tree” offering was also musically yellow, since it was an adaptation of an old blues toon by Al Green and Yellow Ledbetter from their Yellow Moon album. Maybe, just maybe, because of these yellow connections, George thought, he could have three songs on a Beatles album. That would be something, he thought. Something. (He kept delving into the word—Something). Meanwhile, Ringo was clueless to these happenings, since he was off on yet another solo sea excursion, marveling at the lives of crustaceans.
McCartney’s Yellow Album press announcement inspired his own genius creative juices to flow. Before he left the podium, Paul had already fleshed out the music and lyrics to three new songs: “Big Yellow Taxi” (a follow-up to his “Drive My Car”), “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree,” and “Mellow Yellow.” For the latter, he envisioned a foot-stomper that seamlessly merges the London Philharmonic Orchestra, zydeco, an Appalachian jug band, and a Cabaret-like showtoon—all the while weaving between seven time signatures, including his newest invention, 13/67th time.
Once the other Beatles heard McCartney’s demos he created in the few minutes following his press announcement, Lennon and Harrison voiced their disdain. “They’d be potboilers, for sure,” Harrison remarked, “but I don’t feel the spiritual connection.”
“There’s not a potboiler amongst the lot of them,” Lennon sputtered. “They’re just granny ditties. Granny ditties.”
“Ringo. What do you think?” asked George.
“You’re all daft, I say. And I think me’s hairs grown longer from all the waiting, sitting, and arguing. Can we just get on with it and play something? Anything?”
Overall, the lads didn’t think Paul’s new songs sounded very Beatlesque. However, Harrison finally relented once McCartney agreed George could have his three yellow songs on the album. Paul’s universal decision on this matter did not sit well with John, for he stormed off, caustically screaming, “How do you sleep?” Meanwhile, Ringo left for another crustacean cruise, but not before laying down the basic vocal and drum tracks to “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” This was Ringo’s first attempt at songwriting. He chose a yellow rose to stick with Paul’s yellow theme. He set his song in Texas and patterned the western swing melody as an ode to his idol, Bob Wilts and his Texas Playpersons.
These Beatles happenings and Beatles disagreements were only the precursor to the Beatles’ pain and acrimony that soon followed. Gone were the days of the Beatles’ happy Red and Blue Album phases. Even the bitterness during the making of the White Album turned a whiter shade of pale in comparison to the recording studio vibe during the Yellow sessions. However, Lennon’s warmly bitter and rejoiceful lament single offering, “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” turned out deeply and hauntingly prophetic. The Yellow Album was their ultimate and final turning point. The final Velcro in their coffin. The final straw that broke the hay bale’s twine. The final Londoneering of their once Liverpudlian lives. It truly was goodbye to the Beatles’ sweet golden yellow slumbers—goodbye to the harmonious multi-chromatic magical mystery days of their earlier, younger, greener selves.
Few in the public cared for the Beatles’ inner workings or individual Beatle humanities, because for them, the Beatles had long since transcended being just six individual humans. Besides, the album struck a chord during the public’s own troubled times. In the end, the Yellow Album went on to sell more than the Beatles’ Red, Blue, and White Albums combined. The press took a heightened interest in the album because one of the Beatles’ groupies, affectionately known as the Banana Scruffs, had spread a rumor that had gone viral that if anyone played the album backwards and at a different speed, subliminal messages could be heard over the droning sitar. As the Scruff’s rumor had it, if you played the album at 33.33 rpm, instead of the standard 50 rpm, you could clearly hear Lennon chant that neither he nor Paul were the true walrus. The walrus was, in fact, Barry Rutle.
Rumors aside, we would never have known of the Beatles’ inner workings or caught a glimpse of the individual Beatles’ emotions and vibes if not for the Yellow Album. We also would never have had the album’s classic songs. Oh, the songs. The songs. The Yellow Album songs were a delicious treat, sweeter than a Savoy Truffle. They were a delight. The best of the best.
So, now. It is my honor, on this 56th anniversary of its original release, to reissue the Yellow Album on the Badwater Books label, complete with extended AI-generated fake outtakes and my insightful yellow journalism factoids. I will also post a twenty-slide questionnaire to test whether you are a true Yellow Album expert. Millions of people a day fail this test. Within this 20-question test, slide 127,123 is especially challenging (you can find it by clicking the 212th yellow ad). I offer these treats to honor the Beatles’ legacy, even though music releases are new to the Badwater Books catalogue. However, remember: Badwater Books and the TAR blog have yet to attain the illustrious New York Times Best-Sellers ranking, appear on a Joe Rogan’s podcast, or make it to the Oprah Book Club list, so in the interim, Badwater Books must take a different tack to keep the publishing lights on, the presses printing, and the social media-sphere a-clicking. So, please, in honor of the Beatles and Badwater Books, put the newest Yellow Album special release on the turntable and give it a spin.
— The End —
© Copyright 2026 David Alan Ek. All rights reserved. In today’s troubled times, who among us can tell what is true, not true, or true part of the time? The boundaries between fact and fiction, satire and social commentary, and politics, pathos, and pathetic have grown as murky as the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. However, if I had to label this piece, I would have to say it falls on the yellow satire side of the literary spectrum.
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