When The Fab Four Sound "Flippin' Lousy": How Other Rock Bands REALLY Felt About The Beatles

Not everyone worshipped at the altar of Lennon-McCartney – some critics had four-letter words for the Fab Four

• The legendary Pete Townshend of The Who once described Beatles backing tracks as "flippin' lousy" when heard in isolation

• Mono vs stereo recordings became a battlefield, with many musicians finding fault with The Beatles' approach to stereo mixing

• Despite the criticism, several rock luminaries privately admired The Beatles while publicly maintaining a competitive stance

It was 1966, and Pete Townshend – that combustible cocktail of artistic pretension and destructive showmanship – was holding court at a television interview. The Who, fresh off the riotous success of "My Generation," were poised to supplant The Beatles as the voice of Britain's bristling youth. Young Townshend, with a face like a particularly aggravated haddock and the demeanour of someone who's just discovered his best teacup's been used for cigarette ash, was in rare form.

"If you steer away from quality, you'll be alright," Townshend declared with the kind of supremely confident arrogance that only a twenty-something with a hit record can muster. It was when the interviewer dared mention The Beatles that Townshend's eyes lit up like a pinball machine.

"Ooh, that's a tough question," he said, before dropping a bombshell that would have sent Beatlemaniacs into paroxysms of rage. "Actually, this afternoon, John [Entwistle] and I were listening to a stereo LP of The Beatles — in which the voices come out of the one side and the backing track comes out of the other." Pause for dramatic effect. "When you actually hear the backing tracks of The Beatles without their voices, they're flippin' lousy."

Take that, Fab Four! While the rest of the world was prostrating themselves at the altar of Lennon-McCartney, here was Townshend, gleefully pissing in the holy water.

The date of the interview suggests Townshend was likely referring to "Rubber Soul," the Beatles' sixth studio album. A landmark release, certainly, but according to Townshend, not exactly a showcase of instrumental virtuosity. This wasn't just youthful rivalry; it was a genuine critique from one musician to another. The Who, with their thunderous rhythm section of Keith Moon and John Entwistle, perhaps felt justified in their criticism of The Beatles' musicianship.

But here's the rub – Townshend wasn't entirely wrong, though his critique requires context. The Beatles were recording in an era of technological transition, and their approach to stereo was, to put it mildly, a bit naff.

MONO-POLY: THE GREAT BEATLES SOUND DEBATE

The crux of Townshend's criticism hinges on a fascinating technical element that casual listeners might miss: the stark difference between The Beatles' mono and stereo recordings. In the 1960s, stereo was the new kid on the block – the vinyl equivalent of those ghastly 3D televisions everyone bought and then quietly relegated to the spare bedroom when the novelty wore off.

For The Beatles and producer George Martin, mono was king. It wasn't just the preferred format; it was practically the only one that mattered. Martin famously rushed through stereo mixes in mere hours, while mono mixes could consume days of studio time with all four Beatles present and actively involved.

As the Beatles Bible website notes, "In 1963 stereo was secondary in importance to mono, which is why George Martin was able to hurriedly mix every track from With The Beatles for stereo in a three-hour session." Three bloody hours! For an entire album! One imagines Martin frantically twiddling knobs while glancing anxiously at his watch, perhaps thinking about what to have for tea.

The result? Early Beatles stereo mixes often featured vocals panned hard to one speaker and instruments to the other – creating that bizarre effect Townshend and Entwistle were experiencing. It wasn't until "Abbey Road" in 1969 that The Beatles released an album available only in stereo, marking the format's final victory in the great audio wars.

Ironically, in later years, The Beatles' mono mixes would become highly sought-after by audiophiles and collectors. The subsequent release of "The Beatles in Mono" box set in 2009 was a recognition that, perhaps, those original mono mixes were indeed "the way the music was meant to be heard."

THE WHO ON WHO: DALTREY'S DIFFERENT TAKE

While Townshend was busy slagging off The Beatles' instrumental prowess, his bandmate Roger Daltrey held a more nuanced view – particularly regarding John Lennon. In a 2015 interview with Uncut magazine, Daltrey selected Lennon's "Jealous Guy" as one of his all-time favourite songs.

"I was listening to his voice the other day," Daltrey reminisced. "Fucking great voice he had." High praise indeed from one of rock's most powerful vocalists. However, Daltrey didn't shy away from acknowledging Lennon's complicated personality: "He was lovely, but again, he had that side of him which could be quite cutting and come across quite nasty. But he was straight up and down – what you saw was what you got."

The relationship between The Who and The Beatles was complex, a mixture of professional respect and artistic rivalry. Both bands emerged from the seismic shift in British popular culture during the early 1960s, but while The Beatles conquered America with moptops and "yeah, yeah, yeah," The Who offered a more aggressive, confrontational brand of rock, one that would eventually culminate in rock operas and concept albums.

"PALACE REVOLUTION" OR STORM IN A TEACUP?

By 1968, while The Beatles were exploring psychedelia and Eastern mysticism, Townshend offered a distinctly different philosophy about rock music's role: "Mother has just fallen down the stairs, dad's lost all his money at the dog track, the baby's got TB. In comes the kid with his transistor radio, grooving to Chuck Berry. He doesn't give a shit about mom falling down the stairs…It's a good thing that you've got a machine, a radio that puts out rock and roll songs and it makes you groove throughout the day."

This view of rock as escapism rather than revolution stood in stark contrast to the increasingly political and experimental direction of The Beatles. When Paul McCartney famously told a 1968 interviewer that the Beatles were "the world's number one capitalists," he was simply acknowledging what Townshend had been saying all along – that art and commerce were inextricably linked in pop music, and pretending otherwise was just posturing.

The truth is, The Beatles and The Who represented different approaches to the British Invasion. The Beatles were musical chameleons, constantly evolving and experimenting. The Who, meanwhile, carved out a niche as maximum R&B merchants before developing their own ambitious rock landscapes. Both approaches were valid, both influential, and both produced some of the most vital music of the era.

THE RIVALRY THAT WASN'T (ENTIRELY)

Despite Townshend's occasional barbs at The Beatles, there was genuine admiration between the bands. Keith Moon was reportedly in awe of Ringo Starr's drumming, while John Entwistle's innovative bass playing shared common ground with Paul McCartney's melodic approach to the instrument.

Townshend himself would later compare The Who's "The Who Sell Out" album to The Beatles' "Magical Mystery Tour," describing both as "wonderful" yet "inconclusive." In his memoir, he wrote: "Both were wonderful, but both made clear that these pop alchemists had failed to produce anything but gold: they hadn't produced the love or passion of Broadway, nor inspired the humour or hope of Beat poetry, Bebop or Pete Seeger's Hudson River Peace Boat."

This assessment reveals a more nuanced appreciation than his 1966 "flippin' lousy" comment might suggest. Townshend, ever the perfectionist, was holding The Beatles to the same impossibly high standard he applied to his own work.

The relationship between these bands wasn't merely competitive; it was symbiotic. The Beatles' rapid evolution pushed The Who to develop their own distinct identity, while The Who's theatrical showmanship and concept albums may have influenced The Beatles' later work.

BY 1971: ROLLS-ROYCES AND SWIMMING POOLS

By the dawn of the 1970s, both bands had transcended their origins as simple pop groups. The Beatles had imploded, but their individual members were embarking on solo careers. The Who, meanwhile, had survived their own internal conflicts and were entering their imperial phase with "Who's Next."

Townshend would later reflect on this period with characteristic candour: "By 1971 the mods were history. By then it was all Rolls-Royces and swimming pools. Women were coming to the studio to shag Roger Daltrey. John Entwistle was ordering food from Harrods."

This excess, he felt, had disconnected the band from their roots – a criticism that could equally apply to The Beatles in their later years. To reconnect, Townshend created "Quadrophenia," a rock opera that returned to The Who's mod origins and explored themes of youth, identity, and disillusionment.

It's worth noting that by this point, The Beatles' approach to stereo had evolved considerably. "Abbey Road," their final recorded album (though "Let It Be" was released later), featured sophisticated stereo production that would have been unimaginable in the mid-60s when Townshend made his infamous comment.

THE LEGACY QUESTION: WHO'S ON FIRST?

In historical terms, The Beatles remain the more culturally significant band, their influence extending far beyond music into fashion, film, politics, and spirituality. The Who, while immensely important, never quite achieved the same level of global cultural impact.

However, in purely musical terms, The Who's pioneering work in rock opera, their thunderous live performances, and their instrumental virtuosity (Moon's drumming, Entwistle's bass work, and Townshend's power chords and feedback techniques) have been just as influential on subsequent generations of rock musicians.

Both bands pushed the boundaries of what rock music could be, transforming it from disposable teen entertainment into a legitimate art form capable of expressing complex ideas and emotions. In that sense, The Beatles and The Who were fellow travellers rather than adversaries.

THE SOUND AND THE FURY

Returning to Townshend's original criticism, the mono versus stereo debate illuminates how technological limitations shaped the music of the era. The Beatles' early stereo mixes now sound dated precisely because they were experimental, created at a time when engineers were still figuring out how to use the new format effectively.

George Martin himself acknowledged this in a 1987 interview: "As you know, if you put something in the center, it comes up four dB louder in mono than it does in stereo. But if you tend to balance your things between one side and the other….And also, I was aware in those days that the majority of record players in the home were built into kind of sideboards, where the speakers were about three feet apart, and the stereo picture was a very near mono one anyway. So I exaggerated the stereo to get a clearer effect."

This exaggeration – voices on one side, instruments on the other – is exactly what Townshend was criticizing. To modern ears accustomed to sophisticated stereo mixing, these early attempts can indeed sound jarring and artificial.

YESTERDAY AND TODAY

What would Townshend think of The Beatles' music now, particularly the recent remixes by George Martin's son Giles, which have addressed many of the issues with the original stereo mixes? We can only speculate, but it's likely he'd appreciate the improved clarity and balance, even if he might still find fault with certain aspects of the performances.

The Beatles versus The Who debate continues among rock aficionados, each band having their passionate defenders. What's clear is that both groups transformed popular music in the 1960s, creating templates that countless artists would follow in subsequent decades.

Townshend's "flippin' lousy" comment, while harsh, represents an honest assessment from one artist to another – the kind of unvarnished critique that's become increasingly rare in our era of carefully managed public relations. Whether you agree with him or not, his willingness to speak his mind remains refreshing.

As for those backing tracks he so dismissively critiqued? They've stood the test of time rather well, proving that sometimes the whole is indeed greater than the sum of its parts. The magic of The Beatles wasn't just in their instrumental prowess (though McCartney's bass playing and Harrison's lead guitar work deserve more credit than Townshend gave them), but in their songwriting, their harmonies, their studio experimentation, and their cultural timing.

In the end, perhaps we should take a line from The Beatles themselves: "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." Despite their occasional sniping, The Who and The Beatles shared a love for pushing rock music forward, for challenging conventions, and for connecting with audiences on a profound level. That shared passion, rather than their differences, is their most important legacy.

When all is said and done, whether you prefer Lennon's "Revolution" or Townshend's "Won't Get Fooled Again," McCartney's "Hey Jude" or Daltrey's "Love Reign O'er Me," Harrison's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" or Entwistle's "Boris the Spider," or even Starr's "With a Little Help from My Friends" versus Moon's manic drumming on "Who Are You," one thing is certain: we're bloody lucky to have had them all.