John Lennon was bored. Or maybe he was just high. By 1969, the Beatles were essentially a group of four men trying to find the exit door without tripping over each other, but they still had one masterpiece left in them. That masterpiece was the Abbey Road medley. Right in the thick of that famous Side Two sequence sits Polythene Pam, a two-minute explosion of acoustic guitars that sound like they're being hit with hammers and a Liverpudlian accent so thick you could trip over it.
It’s weird. It’s loud. Honestly, it’s kind of gross if you look at the lyrics too closely. But where did this "Polythene Pam" person actually come from?
Most people assume Lennon just made her up to fit the "Mean Mr. Mustard" vibe. He didn't. The song is actually a frantic, distorted collage of two very real, very strange encounters from the band’s past. One involved a fan from the Cavern Club days, and the other involved a legendary evening in Jersey with a woman, some plastic, and a very confused John Lennon.
The Myth of the "Polythene" Woman
To understand Polythene Pam, you have to go back to the early sixties. Before the stadium tours. Before the sitars. Back when they were just four guys in leather jackets playing for cigarette money in Liverpool. There was a regular at the Cavern Club named Pat Hodgett. She had a habit that earned her a local reputation: she ate polythene.
She didn't just carry it. She chewed it. She’d sit there during their sets, tearing off bits of plastic packaging and snacking on it. "Polythene Pat," they called her.
But that’s only half the story. The "fetish" side of the song—the part about the boots and the plastic bags—actually comes from a 1963 encounter Lennon had with a woman named Stephanie. He was hanging out with poet Royston Ellis in Guernsey. As Lennon later told Playbook magazine in 1980, he was looking for a "kinky" experience, and Stephanie obliged by dressing up in polythene bags. She didn't have leather boots, so she used plastic.
It’s a gritty, weird bit of Beatles lore. Lennon took those two memories, smashed them together, and turned them into a character who "looks like a man" and "works in a shop."
Why the Guitars Sound So Mean
If you listen to the track in a good pair of headphones, the first thing that hits you isn't the vocal. It’s the acoustic guitar. It’s massive. Most acoustic guitars in 1969 pop music sounded thin or "pretty." Not this one.
The Beatles used a technique on Polythene Pam that made the acoustics sound almost like percussion. They heavily compressed the signal and played them with incredible aggression. It’s a twelve-string frenzy. Paul McCartney’s bass follows suit, jumping all over the fretboard with a fuzz-tone growl that bridges the gap between the Lennon-led chaos and the upcoming "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window."
They recorded it as one continuous piece with "Mean Mr. Mustard." If you listen to the original master tapes, there isn't a gap. Lennon shouts "Great!" at the end of Mustard, and the drums just kick right into that iconic eighth-note drive.
The Abbey Road Medley: A Masterclass in Salvage
Basically, the Beatles were sitting on a pile of unfinished "scraps." Lennon famously hated the medley. He called it "junk" and "bits of songs thrown together." But George Martin and Paul McCartney saw a way to make the band's fracturing work in their favor.
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Lennon had written Polythene Pam during the 1968 trip to Rishikesh, India. There’s a demo of it on the Anthology 3 album and the Esher Demos that sounds way more "folky." If they had recorded it for the White Album, it probably would have been a throwaway acoustic track. By waiting until the Abbey Road sessions, they gave it the "Big Rock" treatment.
- Ringo’s Drumming: Notice the cowbell? It’s relentless. Ringo Starr often gets overlooked for his technicality, but his pocket on this track is what keeps the transition from falling apart.
- The Transition: The song doesn't actually end. It dissolves into a guitar solo that George Harrison played to bridge the gap into the next track.
- The Vocal: Lennon is doing a "Scouse" accent on purpose. It’s a nod to his roots, but it’s also a bit of a parody. He’s leaning into the "tough guy from Liverpool" persona that he spent years trying to move away from.
The Disappearing "Jack"
There’s a funny bit of trivia buried in the transition between "Mean Mr. Mustard" and Polythene Pam. In the lyrics of Mustard, John originally referred to Mustard’s sister as "Shirley."
But when he started singing Polythene Pam, he realized it made more sense if Pam was the sister. So, he changed the line in Mustard to "his sister Pam." It’s a tiny detail, but it’s what gives the Abbey Road medley its narrative glue. It makes this bizarre world feel lived-in.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Recording
A lot of casual fans think the "medley" was done in one take. It wasn't. It was an incredibly complex series of edits and overdubs.
For Polythene Pam, the basic track was recorded on July 25, 1969. They did 39 takes. Think about that. Thirty-nine takes for a song that lasts just over a minute. They were perfectionists, even when they were supposedly "falling apart" as a band.
Lennon’s vocals were doubled, and he added those hilarious ad-libs in the background. If you listen closely during the guitar solo, you can hear him shouting things like "Look out!" and "He's well-known!" It’s the sound of a band actually having fun, which is rare for the 1969 era of the Beatles.
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The Legacy of a Plastic Woman
It’s easy to dismiss this song as a "filler" track. It’s short. It’s weird. It’s about a woman in a trash bag. But Polythene Pam represents the peak of the Beatles' ability to turn the mundane—or the downright strange—into high art.
They took a fetishistic encounter and a girl who ate plastic and turned it into a cornerstone of the greatest B-side in rock history. It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s quintessentially Lennon.
If you want to truly appreciate the song, stop listening to it as a standalone track on a playlist. It was never meant to be heard that way. Go back to the vinyl—or the high-res stream—and start from "You Never Give Me Your Money." Let the medley build. By the time that acoustic guitar kicks in for Pam, you’ll realize it’s not just a song about plastic. It’s the sound of a band firing on all cylinders one last time.
How to hear things you've missed in Polythene Pam
- Listen for the "Ah!" Right as the song transitions from Mean Mr. Mustard, there’s a sharp intake of breath and a shout from Lennon. It sets the frantic tone for the next 72 seconds.
- Focus on the right channel. In the stereo mix, the percussion is panned aggressively. You can hear the tambourine and cowbell fighting for space against the massive acoustic strumming.
- Check the Esher Demos. If you listen to the 1968 demo version, you can hear how much slower and "prettier" the song was originally. It proves that the "Abbey Road sound" was a deliberate choice to go harder and faster.
- Isolate the bass. Paul's bass line here is actually incredibly melodic for a song that's basically a three-chord stomper. He’s playing counter-melodies that most bassists wouldn't dream of in a "short" song.
The song is a reminder that the Beatles were at their best when they were being slightly ridiculous. They didn't need to be profound every time they stepped up to the mic. Sometimes, they just needed a good story about a girl in a plastic bag and a twelve-string guitar to prove they were still the best in the world.
To get the full experience of the Abbey Road medley, try listening to the "Super Deluxe" anniversary editions released in recent years. These mixes, handled by Giles Martin (George Martin’s son), pull back the curtain on the individual tracks. You can hear the "Polythene Pam" sessions in their raw state, minus the polished sheen of the final master. It’s a messy, loud, and brilliant look at how the greatest album of all time was actually stitched together from pieces of plastic and old memories.