There are no nagging inconsistencies in Abbey Road, no finger-pointing or exasperating enigmas, just a whole mess of sublimely executed, elegantly composed Beatles music.

Yea, team.

Shimmering brilliance and unbounded creative energy grace every moment of Abbey Road. It is alternately bright, silly, warm, funny, childlike, funky, and glib, seamlessly bound into a perfectly molded entity born fresh into the day. All the insecure raggedness of the plain white album is gone and Abbey Road emerges a glowing tour de force.

It opens with a fresh, salty rock 'n' roll stompalong, "Come Together," peppered with spicy Lennon one-liners, underpinned with a jolly boogie beat. It's a midnight mover, good old rock 'n' roll.

"Maxwell's Silver Hammer," in the best McCartney-music-hall, rinky-tink tradition …, [is] a jolly ditty of mischief and manslaughter, full of musical imagination and lyrical buffoonery. You can hear his losing battle to keep a straight face...