Before last week, I had never listened to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It’s difficult to avoid Beatles classics like “With A Little Help From My Friends” or “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds,” so I guess you could say I’m not completely unfamiliar with the subject matter. Still, last week was the first time I purposely listened to one of the biggest albums of all time, which has now been remastered for its 50th anniversary. Just don’t ask me to name all those people on the album cover.

It’s a daunting task to review an album that has already been listened to, loved and analyzed over decades by millions of people. I also realize I might not be taken seriously as a fan of music generally for identifying myself as someone who hasn’t familiarized myself with the Beatles’ discography. I’m willing to take these risks. (I know, I’m brave.)

First impression? Those Beatles knew how to write some catchy tunes. From the get-go with the title track, flowing into “With a Little Help From My Friends,” I enjoyed the feel-good opening as I walked home from work. It’s no shock the songs are still played in 2017.

In fact, the music throughout impressed me. “She’s Leaving Home” and “Within You Without You,” for example, are undeniably beautiful. The album’s lyrics, meanwhile, range from silly, to relatable, to philosophical. From start to finish, the flow of the music creates a narrative, like the band is leading you through a story via singable songs that stand the test of time.

But I don’t think it’s just musicality or fun that makes this album worth remembering on its 50th birthday.

Every so often, the surface, first-glance impression of the album as catchy and colourful cracks. When it does, you get a glimpse of something darker, even sinister. I first noticed it when listening to “Getting Better.” The poppy guitar and hopeful refrain kept me entertained until I was surprised by “I used to be cruel to my woman, I beat her. . .” Are they trying to say something deeper here, or is it just a disturbing throwaway line?

Upon hearing “She’s Leaving Home” it didn’t seem clear if the audience was supposed to feel sympathetic toward the parents whose daughter ran away without warning, or toward the daughter who had to run. Even “Lovely Rita” gave me cause for pause (is it love??). And the vivid descriptions of “A Day in the Life” struck me as an encore (or perhaps a summary) to the album that told a story of monotony and horror that can follow one another so closely in everyday life.

This, I think, is also demonstrated in “Fixing a Hole,” which feels cyclical and mundane, but then fades into “She’s Leaving Home.” Or “Good Morning Good Morning,” which punchily repeats “good,” but just describes an unremarkable day.

In a Toronto Star column from June 1967 called “The Pop-Rock Scene,” Ralph Thomas writes that there were more than one million orders for the album in the U.S. before it was released. “In Canada, since its release two weeks ago, Sgt. Pepper has sold about 50,000 copies — many of them to a growing audience: Adults,” Thomas said.

In July of that same year, Patrick Scott wrote a music column for The Star and quipped, “Are The Beatles really that important to anyone over 12?”

It seems the answer was, and is, yes.

Sgt. Pepper’s music reflects life to its listener in a way that they can see themselves and their lives in the story — one that isn’t always beautiful — and obviously the album made an impact. It’s a hodgepodge of sad and fun and special, and I’m glad I finally listened to it.

Although I probably won’t come back to “Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite!” very often.