It’s the most famous zebra crossing in the world. Even if you aren't a massive Beatles fan, you know the image: four guys walking across a London street, Paul barefoot for some reason, and a Volkswagen Beetle parked awkwardly in the background. But while the cover of the 1969 masterpiece is iconic, the track listing Abbey Road gave us actually dictates how we listen to "album-oriented" rock today. It wasn't just a collection of songs. It was a Hail Mary from a band that was basically falling apart at the seams.
Honestly, the sessions for Let It Be (then called Get Back) had been a total disaster. Arguments were constant. George Harrison actually quit the band for a bit. So, when they got back together with producer George Martin to record what would become their final recorded work, they decided to do things differently. The result? An A-side of individual brilliance and a B-side that is basically one long, glorious symphonic mashup.
Side A: The Power of the Individual
The first half of the album is where the "big" songs live. You’ve got John’s gritty blues, Paul’s whimsical (and polarizing) pop, and George finally—finally—getting the respect he deserved as a songwriter.
"Come Together" kicks things off. It’s swampy. It’s weird. It started as a campaign song for Timothy Leary’s run for Governor of California against Ronald Reagan. John Lennon eventually slowed it down, added that "shoot me" whisper, and created a groove that feels like it’s pulling you under. Then, we jump straight into "Something." Frank Sinatra once called this the greatest love song ever written, though he curiously kept crediting it to Lennon and McCartney instead of George Harrison.
Then comes "Maxwell's Silver Hammer." If you want to know why the Beatles broke up, look at this song. Paul McCartney was obsessed with getting it "right." He spent days on it. He made the others record take after take of what John Lennon famously dismissed as "granny music." George Harrison hated it. Ringo Starr later said the sessions for it were "insane." You can almost hear the tension behind the bouncy anvil hits.
"Oh! Darling" and "Octopus's Garden" round out the middle. The former features some of the best vocal shredding Paul ever did; he allegedly showed up early to the studio every morning to scream for a bit to get that "raw" edge. The latter is Ringo’s shining moment. It’s innocent, fun, and exactly what the album needed to keep from getting too dark.
👉 See also: Ted Nugent State of Shock: Why This 1979 Album Divides Fans Today
The A-side ends with "I Want You (She's So Heavy)." It’s a beast. At nearly eight minutes long, it’s one of the longest songs in their catalog. It’s repetitive in a way that feels like a precursor to doom metal. And then, at the very climax of the white noise—snap. The tape was cut. It ends in total silence. It’s jarring. It’s brilliant.
The Medley: How the track listing Abbey Road redefined the B-Side
If the first half of the record is a traditional album, the second half is an experiment in "symphonic pop." Usually referred to as "The Medley" or "The Long One," this sequence of short, unfinished song fragments is what makes the track listing Abbey Road so legendary.
It starts with "Here Comes the Sun," which George wrote in Eric Clapton’s garden while skipping a boring business meeting at Apple Corps. It’s the ultimate palate cleanser after the heaviness of the previous track. From there, we slide into "Because," featuring those haunting triple-tracked three-part harmonies. It’s technically nine voices, all perfectly blended.
The Big Sequence
Then the Medley truly begins. It’s a whirlwind of snippets that shouldn't work together but somehow do.
- You Never Give Me Your Money: Paul’s commentary on the band’s messy finances.
- Sun King: A weird, dreamy bit with pseudo-Spanish gibberish at the end.
- Mean Mr. Mustard & Polythene Pam: Two of John’s "junk" songs from India.
- She Came In Through the Bathroom Window: Inspired by a fan who actually climbed into Paul’s house.
- Golden Slumbers: Based on a 17th-century poem by Thomas Dekker.
- Carry That Weight: A rare moment of all four Beatles singing in unison.
- The End: The only song to feature solos from all four members, including Ringo’s only recorded drum solo with the band.
And then, that final couplet: "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." It was the perfect epitaph for the 1960s.
✨ Don't miss: Mike Judge Presents: Tales from the Tour Bus Explained (Simply)
The Hidden Track Trickery
But wait, there's more. After "The End" finishes, there’s a long stretch of silence. Suddenly, a tiny, 23-second ditty called "Her Majesty" pops up. It wasn't listed on the original sleeve. It was originally supposed to be between "Mean Mr. Mustard" and "Polythene Pam," but Paul didn't like the flow. He told tape operator John Kurlander to throw it away. Kurlander, being a professional, couldn't bring himself to destroy a Beatles recording, so he tacked it onto the end of the master tape. When the band heard it, they loved the randomness of it.
That’s how the first "hidden track" in rock history happened. Just a happy accident.
Why this sequence still matters to listeners today
Most people don't realize how much the track listing Abbey Road influenced the concept of the "concept album." While Sgt. Pepper gets the credit for being the first, Abbey Road actually perfected the art of the transition.
In 2026, where we mostly consume music via "shuffled" playlists or 15-second TikTok clips, listening to the B-side of Abbey Road feels like a radical act. It’s meant to be heard as a singular piece of art. If you skip "Sun King," the transition into "Mean Mr. Mustard" loses its punch. It’s a cohesive narrative of a band saying goodbye.
The technical precision of George Martin and engineer Geoff Emerick cannot be overstated here. They were using an 8-track TG12345 console—the first transistorized desk at Abbey Road Studios. It gave the album a smoother, more "solid" sound than the tube-driven warmth of their earlier records. This tech allowed them to cross-fade the medley tracks with a level of detail that was basically sci-fi for 1969.
🔗 Read more: Big Brother 27 Morgan: What Really Happened Behind the Scenes
Common Misconceptions
People often think Let It Be was their final album. Technically, it was the last one released, but Abbey Road was the last one recorded. The track listing Abbey Road represents the actual final creative output of the Fab Four. They knew it was over. You can feel that weight in "Carry That Weight." They were exhausted by the legal battles with Allen Klein and the internal bickering.
Another myth: The order was random. Not even close. Paul and George Martin spent hours agonizing over how to piece those song fragments together. Lennon was actually skeptical of the medley at first; he wanted the album to be more "straightforward." Eventually, they compromised: John’s songs dominated the A-side, and Paul’s "symphonic" vision took over the B-side.
Actionable Insights for the Modern Listener
If you want to truly experience the genius of this track listing, you have to break your modern habits.
- Turn off the shuffle. Seriously. If you shuffle the B-side, the "The End" might come before "Golden Slumbers," and the universe will basically collapse.
- Listen on vinyl if you can. The physical act of flipping the record between "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" and "Here Comes the Sun" is part of the intended experience. The silence of the flip acts as a reset for your brain.
- Pay attention to the bass. Paul McCartney’s bass lines on this album—especially on "Something" and "Come Together"—are lead instruments in their own right.
- Use high-fidelity headphones. The 2019 Giles Martin remix (the 50th Anniversary edition) brings out details in the harmonies of "Because" that were buried for decades.
The track listing Abbey Road isn't just a list of songs on a jacket. It is a masterclass in pacing, tension, and resolution. It took a group of four men who could barely stand to be in the same room and forced them to create a seamless, 47-minute goodbye. From the hiss of "I Want You" to the sudden jolt of "Her Majesty," it remains the gold standard for how to build an album.
To get the most out of your next listen, find a quiet room, put on a pair of decent over-ear headphones, and play the B-side from "Here Comes the Sun" all the way through without touching your phone. You'll hear the transitions—the cross-fades, the shared keys, and the way the tempo subtly shifts to bridge different song ideas. It's the closest thing to musical magic that's ever been captured on tape.