The Thorny Beatles: How to Try to Like Your Parents' Band

                When I was sixteen I hated the Beatles. I didn’t know their music very well (though now I understand that there were a lot of songs I knew that I didn’t know were theirs), but I knew a lot of their story. It had been crammed into my head by overzealous Boomers.

                Here’s the truth about us Gen X-ers: while we were growing up, our Boomer parents and aunts and uncles and that guy with the long hair and the jean jacket who smelled funny (so damn many of them, y’see) decided to try and save us the bother of coming up with anything new through thinking for ourselves. Instead they just told us what was important culturally, politically, musically. They had some right to this opinion, because they’d had such an impact on the world culturally, politically, musically. A lot of the time, we reacted negatively to it because nobody enjoys being told that their own time is unimportant. Fair.

                The Beatles being the flagship of all things Boomer, they were easy to hate. Didn’t know much about them, but hated the patronizing lectures in which they always featured so prominently.

                Well, I’m all grown up now, and find myself reassessing old opinions with the help of my new “wisdom.” I just finished Jonathon Gould’s Can’t Buy Me Love, a meticulous and engrossing bio that puts the world’s most famous band in their context and assesses their impact on the time they were in, allowing their legacy to be one’s own decision. The book is a successful attempt to say “This is what it felt like when the Beatles were now.”

                I don’t love the Beatles, but I respect them. I see why they matter. I feel the same way about the Bible, professional soccer and Calculus.

                The Beatles are the epitome of 1960s music, inspired by 1950s music. I really don’t like 50s or 60s music. I hate the Stones, am tepid on the Beach Boys (yes, even Pet Sounds), don’t have much use for Dylan, and think Clapton leaving Cream was the best thing that happened to his career. I think it’s telling that the biggest band of the era broke up in 1970. They set the stage for the bands I like. That’s when I like the Beatles, when I hear them playing the stuff the 70s bands I like picked up and ran with. Zeppelin, YES, Rush, the Who and Pink Floyd (when each band got good), Neil Young’s best stuff--the 70s is where my tolerance of classic rock begins. When I like the Beatles, it’s when I hear the inspiration for the music I truly love, not what I feel obligated to listen to.

                However, I can’t help but be impressed by them. They were the first and most important of their kind, inspired by Elvis and Little Richard, then going on to cover so much distance in seven years that they set up the 70s. That was stunning, considering how far we had to come from “Tutti Frutti.” The Beatles shed a lot of water. They were making so much of it up as they went, inspiring styles and blending them, doing more parody than I think anyone realizes looking back, and sometimes making stupid, stupid mistakes (India: th’hell?).

                In recognizing their importance, I’d like to share not one but two lists with you regarding the Beatles. First:

Five Things I’ve Decided at Last About the Beatles

1. Almost everything before Sgt. Pepper is unlistenable. Oh, Rubber Soul and Revolver have some good moments, but those are when the boys were flexing their muscles and looking to shed their crappy mop-top roots. Sgt. Pepper, though not my personal favourite, deserves topping so many of the lists dedicated to the Greatest Albums of All Time (notably Rolling Stone’s). Without it, there would have been no Tommy, Dark Side of the Moon or American Idiot—no Thriller, Appetite for Destruction or Nevermind.

2. Let it Be is my favourite album. It’s their last, was released after they broke up, and was actually recorded before Abbey Road. It’s not most “true” Beatles fan’s favourite, and I think that’s telling because I like the Beatles when they sound the least like the Beatles.

3. Those vocals, my word. All four dudes sang. (Yes, that’s what Ringo’s doing. Singing.) And they did it very well, with tremendous harmonies backing each other up, and passion like no other group. To this day, I love watching Paul McCartney sing—he truly looks like he’s convincing you of what he’s saying, and that he loves every melody coming out. He and Lennon, with Harrison’s help, complimented each other very, very well. They were a pop band, and pop is about hooks. They had ‘em. And I don’t fault them for their catchiness, even when yeah-yeah-yeahing through “She Loves You.”

4. I’m a Paul McCartney fan. Harrison is second. I had thought that John Lennon was my guy, seeing as who he became in the 70s, politically, is most like myself. And “Imagine”—possibly the best song ever. But in the Beatles, Lennon was a confused acid-head with a whiney voice, some very weird songs, and infamously bad taste in women. And, yes, Barenaked Ladies, Yoko broke up the Beatles. McCartney’s songs are consistently my favourites. He also has wormed his way into my list of best bass players (not just for inspiration, his technique was and remains stellar). In the later years, it was he who was doing the lion’s share of the work, and he who was trying to hold the band together. Lennon was just doing drugs.

5. Even in the end and after, they liked each other. These guys were best friends, and they supported each other with a mad passion. They were always together, even for the first bit of the Ono-insanity. Watch clips of the rooftop performances for Let It Be: smiling, joking, howling approval at each other’s melodies. Letting Ringo sing. These guys loved each other. They told people—and call me a modern hippie, but I buy it—that all we need is love.

                Second:

The Twenty Best Beatles Songs (because I couldn’t narrow it to ten; they are the Beatles, after all)

20. “All Together Now” Awesome throw away from the Yellow Submarine Soundtrack. Go find it.

19. “Nowhere Man” A capella Beatles intro? Gets better from there.

18. “Yesterday” First of the best of the McCartney ballads.

17. “A Little Help From My Friends” Yeah, Ringo, that’s how you had a career. Decent drummer, though. Underrated.

16. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” Dumb lyrics, but it’s one of George Harrison’s best contributions.

15. “Free as a Bird” Take a Lennon solo and have the other three work on it fifteen years after he dies, and it was where I first got intrigued. I saw the video in 1995 with my mom, her explaining all the references. It’s a great song and marks the beginning of my interest in the band.

14. “Helter Skelter” Charles Manson and U2 aside, it’s a great guitar song.

13. “Day in the Life” One of their most critically-lauded tunes. It’s a gooder.

12. “Two of Us” Let it Be’s opener sets the tone for an album that triumphs with the last track (#1 on my list).

11. “All You Need is Love” It’s that good an anthem, and foreshadowed Lennon’s later greats like “Imagine” and “Give Peace a Chance.” Simple is good sometimes (see #2).

10. “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” No, it’s not about LSD.

9. “Come Together” Rhythm section’s dream. Paul and Ringo, bravo.

8. “Let it Be” I’ve cried listening to this.

7. “You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away” So good Eddie Vedder covered it.

6. “Yellow Submarine” Ringo’s best. Inane, brilliantly so.

5. “I’ve Just Seen a Face” Manic pace for a love song.

4. “We Can Work it Out” Chorus is among their best.

3. “Day Tripper” The first of their great guitar riffs. I’d like their early stuff more if it was all like this.

2. “Hey Jude” A song with five minutes of na-na-na can still make me smile whenever I hear it. This is my kids’ favourite Beatles tune.

1. “Get Back” The Beatles sounding less Beatle-y, and a sign that I like them best for what they inspired.  

A band so good, they could be forgiven for “The Long and Winding Road.” Utter garbage.