I remember the first time this sound truly hit me. Not just as background noise on a dusty compilation, but as a deliberate, visceral statement. It was a grey, rainy Tuesday, and the crackle from the old tube amplifier was as much a part of the soundscape as the music itself. The Animals’ rendition of “Around And Around” dropped into the room like a cinderblock, raw and uncompromising, instantly sweeping away the polite pop sensibilities of the early British Invasion. This isn’t the sweeping, Gothic drama of their biggest hit; this is Saturday night, four A.M., with sweat dripping from the ceiling.
This piece of music, released in 1964, serves as a crucial artifact, a direct line from the pubs of Newcastle to the heart of American rhythm and blues. It appeared on both the UK and US debut albums, both titled The Animals, released by Columbia (EMI) and MGM, respectively. It was the gritty anchor amidst the commercial brilliance of their breakout year. While the US album notably peaked high on the charts, largely propelled by the monumental success of “House of the Rising Sun,” tracks like “Around And Around” defined the band’s core identity—an unapologetic devotion to the blues masters.
The Blueprint of Blues-Rock Brutality
The choice of source material, a Chuck Berry B-side from 1958 (originally coupled with “Johnny B. Goode”), reveals The Animals’ commitment. They weren’t just pop appropriators; they were interpreters of foundational rock and roll. Their version, captured with producer Mickie Most, strips away Berry’s slightly cleaner, more narrative-focused approach, replacing it with a relentless, driving intensity.
The arrangement is a masterclass in economy and controlled chaos. John Steel’s drumming is sharp and militaristic, providing an unyielding backbeat that pushes the tempo. Chas Chandler’s bassline doesn’t just hold the bottom; it lunges, a fat, walking line that practically snarls with pent-up energy. This primal foundation is what gives the track its irresistible momentum, ensuring it’s a song you feel in your chest cavity before your ears can even register the lyrics. The overall dynamic remains loud and tight, a testament to the band’s honed stagecraft from their days as a club band in the North East of England.
The Grinding Gears of Instrumentation
The instrumentation is where the Newcastle grit truly surfaces. Hilton Valentine’s guitar work here is not showy; it’s essential. His electric guitar sounds like it was recorded through an amp with a frayed speaker cone, offering a trebly, almost painful attack on the riff. The solo, when it arrives, is a quick burst of stinging, simple blues phrasing, heavy on vibrato and intent, entirely devoid of the flash that would come to define later rock guitarists. It serves the song’s relentless pace, rather than indulging in virtuosic flair.
Offsetting this raw guitar texture is the unmistakable sound of Alan Price’s organ. While some British bands of the era featured the piano, The Animals leaned heavily on the organ to provide their signature sound. On “Around And Around,” Price’s keys cut through the mix like a buzzsaw. He alternates between stabbing, rhythmic chords that lock in with the rhythm section and short, blues-inflected fills that weave around Eric Burdon’s vocals. The timbre of the organ is bright, reedy, and slightly distorted—a sound instantly recognizable to anyone deeply invested in premium audio recordings from the mid-sixties. His contribution is the piece’s harmonic glue, but also its distinguishing textural mark.
“The Animals’ genius was never in sophistication, but in the sheer, unbridled intent of their delivery.”
Eric Burdon’s vocal performance seals the deal. His voice, already gaining a reputation for its soulful depth and raw power, is pushed to its absolute limit. He sings the lyric, a simple rock-and-roll tale of dancing and chasing girls, with the desperation of a man backed into a corner. There’s a noticeable grit and break in his tone, a sustained high energy that never wavers. He doesn’t just cover Chuck Berry; he re-contextualizes the youthful exuberance of the original into something approaching blues-soaked street anxiety.
Career Context and Cultural Resonance
The 1964 period was the pinnacle of The Animals’ original lineup’s power. They had just released “House of the Rising Sun,” which catapulted them to global fame, a track that showcased their ability to turn an old folk song into a dramatic, career-defining moment. “Around And Around” sits on the same album as a reminder of their roots. It’s the sonic passport, declaring: we can play the pop hit, but this is what we fundamentally are—a blues band. The constant tension in the early band—between the pop aspirations encouraged by Mickie Most and their grounding in R&B—is perfectly represented by this track sitting alongside their global smash.
For a modern listener encountering this song for the first time, perhaps after years of studying classic rock guitar lessons, the track is a revelation in simplicity. It proves that energy and feel always trump complexity. I recently spun this track in a café, and a young barista, likely more familiar with contemporary indie-rock, paused, asking who it was. The sheer immediacy of the recording is what still grabs people; it sounds like the band is playing right here, right now, their instruments bleeding together in the small room.
It’s a powerful micro-story that repeats across generations: a band from a cold northern city, channeling the hot, humid spirit of the American South and somehow making it their own. It is a vital link in the chain that connects Chuck Berry to the hard-rocking bands that would follow. The way they commit to the relentless 12-bar cycle feels almost manic, a hypnotic quality that makes you want to hit repeat—to keep going “Around And Around”. The track never slows, never lets up, existing in a state of high-octane, perfectly executed garage-rock intensity.
The raw engineering, reportedly handled by Dave Siddle at Kingsway, London, captures the unpolished essence. There is minimal polish, allowing the natural acoustic bleed of the instruments—the close-miked snare, the gritty organ—to create a unified, suffocating texture. This absence of studio gloss is part of its enduring appeal, allowing the music to bypass the cerebral and speak directly to the gut. The commitment to this raw sound, even as commercial expectations rose, is why the initial phase of The Animals remains so revered.
It stands as a testament to the early-60s British R&B movement: a simple structure delivered with world-altering conviction.
🎧 Listening Recommendations
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“Roll Over Beethoven” by The Beatles (1963): Another Chuck Berry cover from the British Invasion, showing a slightly cleaner, more pop-inflected take on the same source material.
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“Boom Boom” by The Animals (1964): Features the same core Animals lineup and heavy organ/guitar groove, but with an unmistakable John Lee Hooker stomp.
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“I’m a Man” by The Yardbirds (1964): Similar high-energy, blues-based British R&B with raw, propulsive rhythm and a focus on swaggering, simple riff work.
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“Shakin’ All Over” by Johnny Kidd & The Pirates (1960): Represents the earlier, slightly more untamed side of British rock with a driving, relentless drum and bass sound.
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“Money (That’s What I Want)” by The Beatles (1963): A Motown cover that shows the fierce dedication of early British bands to American R&B, featuring a similarly prominent, driving piano part.
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“Gotta See Jane” by R. Dean Taylor (1968): A later-era song with a comparable high-speed, garage-y urgency, though leaning into a more Northern Soul aesthetic.