Scattered Thoughts on The Beatles 1

I've been doing a lot of thinking about the Beatles lately, what with the 30th anniversary of John Lennon's murder coming up in December, coupled with the passing of what would have been his 70th birthday back on October 9.  I have been preparing a longer essay on Lennon and the myth that has built up around him over the years, a myth I long ago stopped believing.  But I will keep on refining and rewriting and have that up before the remembrance of his untimely and tragic death.

But for now, my attention turns to the band that made him a household name, the Beatles (as if I need to write the word).  There is so much that could be written, but most of it already has.  If a mythology has build up around Lennon than a veritable Homeric epic has been constructed around the Beatles.  While I was skeptical at one point in my life about their significance, the more I listen and the more I read the more I believe that they are one of the few pop culture icons worthy of the hype.  It's more than the number of units sold or number one hits they had;  they were truly innovative in their approach to recording and stretched the limits of what could be done in the studio, and what a pop-rock and roll band could achieve artistically on an LP.


So yes, I'm afraid I'm just as guilty of the Beatle idolatry as anyone.  But upon listening afresh to their recordings I'm left with an impression I first had in youth, but could never put words on.  The common perception is that the Beatles were the good guys and the Rolling Stones were the bad boys.  The old cliche coined by Tom Wolfe was that the Beatles want to hold your hand, but the Stones want to burn your town.  This notion is not without some merit, but it's still a bit of a simplification.  Listening to "Sgt. Pepper's" reveals dark undercurrents in both lyrics and sound.  Yes, Lennon was responsible for much of the edge, even adding this infamous line to McCartney's "Getting Better": I used to be cruel to my woman / I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved. The otherwise sunny "Lovely Rita" exits with sinister grunts and groans.  The non-album single "Strawberry Fields" adds a jumbled, frightening coda of noisy sirens and backward tape loops. The entire "White Album" is a mishmash of clashing styles reflecting the increasing disunity within the band.  As the double album progresses the tone gets darker, with McCartney trying to hope, Lennon totally disgusted and Harrison's offerings swerving between cynicism and lament.  Even Paul eventually succumbs to the discontent with the angry, aggressive "Helter Skelter."  Only Ringo seems to lighten the mood in spots. 

Then we have the mess that is "Revolution 9." This eight minute sound collage represents well the the disintegration of the Beatles as a unit, and without sounding too high minded, reflected the turbulence and increased fracturing of both European and American society in 1968.  John Lennon always contended that it wasn't the Beatles that influenced society, but rather that things going on in the culture were being reflected in their work.  I think it went both ways.  In this instance "Revolution 9" was a cracked mirror being held up to a revolutionary age.

The Rolling Stones were obvious in their rebellion, especially in their attacking of sexual mores.  This was something more calculated than anyone wanted to admit.  I'm not saying they didn't believe in what they were doing, but for them rebellion was as much of a marketing strategy as it was a philosophy of life.  But the Beatles were much more subtle.  They had the skills as song writers that the Stones didn't, and the guidance of a competent producer and arranger in George Martin to make their vision come to life.  The Stones had to rely on shock to make it (that is until they found their voice with the "Beggars Banquet" album, aided by a competent producer in Jimmy Miller who focused them), but the Beatles could do it on talent. They knew how to put on the veneer of love and flowers, while underneath was a wealth of  subversive angst.