Why the Beatles?
Originally posted to rec.music.beatles May-June 1996
Revised version posted to rec.music.beatles November 12, 1999
>Having researched the Beatles for the last few weeks as part of a university
>assessment I am still lost. Everyone seems to have their own opinion about
>how the Beatles became so successful, but none can explain why the Beatles
>changed their lives... How did the Beatles create a social revolution? What
>was it about them or their music that made the world take notice?
I've thought about this myself many times. This is kind of long, but it's my best shot. Bear with me!
Why were the Beatles such a big, enormous success? And then, beyond that, why were they not just a fabulous rock group, but a worldwide phenomenon and cultural force for nearly an entire decade?
I maintain it's impossible to separate one from the other. They wouldn't have been the latter if they couldn't have managed the former. So let me treat musical issues first.
* * * * * * * * * *
1. The Beatles were Musical Freaks.
This is the bedrock issue for me, and before a pile of stones comes down on my head, let me make myself clear. I say "freakish" with the same awe and reverence that one might apply to describing, say, the freakish brain of Isaac Newton, who revolutionized mathematics and calculus in one bored summer when he was 23 years old (mathematicians still refer to it as Newton's "magic summer"). Or Einstein, who did the same by looking at the universe one day while relatively young and, with a genius beyond description, apprehended relativity. Freakish talent is a talent that is beyond good, beyond great, beyond wonderful, beyond, even, awesome. It is so unbelievably, profoundly well-suited to the task at hand that the confluence can only be called freakish.
Every time I look at the early Beatles and think about them breaking into showbiz it amazes me how freakishly over-equipped they were. In ONE BAND you had:
- One of the greatest songwriters of all time: John Lennon;
- One of the greatest songwriters of all time: Paul McCartney;
- Both of these working together to improve each other's output, making one of the greatest songwriting teams of all time;
- What many acknowledge as one of the greatest rock 'n' roll singing voices of all time: John's;
- What many acknowledge as one of the greatest rock 'n' roll singing voices of all time: Paul's;
- A budding songwriter and guitarist of no mean accomplishment, George, who only got better & better with time;
- One of the premiere rock drummers (and personalities) of all time, Ringo Starr;
- A foursome who, through both talent and sweat, was able to deliver pop/rock 'n' roll with a punch second to none in show business at that time;
- A musical ethic that was devoted to originality, not imitation, and yet could imitate with the best when occasion demanded (there are still many who claim, with good justification, that John's "Twist & Shout" and Paul's "Long Tall Sally" absolutely shred the originals; and there are many other covers of the same caliber); hence, an ability to simultaneously put one foot in the past, and one in the future;
- A collective musical taste that had a knack for surprising and delighting their audience again and again; and
- A natural affinity for the recording studio, which would become their vehicle to the world.
The Beatles could not have been a worldwide phenomenon or anything close if they weren't, first and foremost, able to deliver the goods -- hit records. That they were, with such amazingly consistent brilliance, just points to the sum of all the above. They were unlike any group before or since. There are many a band alive today who can claim a good songwriter, even two. Or a good vocalist, or two. But there are no bands that I can think of since the Beatles who can claim *superlative* talents in all of the above categories. The Beatles could. They were freaks.
This laid the foundation for all that was to come.
* * * * * * * * * *
2. The Beatles were Charming as Hell.
A pop group, unlike, say, a classical composer, is in the spotlight all the time and is part and parcel of the music they sell. It is not just the music: it is a whole "act." In this category, the Beatles were similarly overequipped.
George Martin says it, Brian Epstein says it, almost everybody who watched their career rise says it, and people virtually *gushed* it after they became famous: the Beatles were handsome, witty, cool, fun people to be around. Just as important, they could sustain this charm when the situation most required it. In front of the lights they didn't become shy and retiring -- they blossomed. And even when the lights went down it didn't stop; the Beatles actually seemed to *live* this way; at a pitch of coolness and humor that most people found just boggling.
So whether it was working with them, having a press conference with them, seeing them on TV or in films, riding the tour bus, or wherever else they turned up, women got weak-kneed and men felt drawn to these witty, cheerful, droll, engaging mop-tops from Liverpool. They became something like National Mascots of Britain, and then the World. "Rattle your jewelry?" "Turn left at Greenland?" "Arthur?" "The Playboy and I are just good friends?" "What money?" It goes on and on. Who was writing this stuff? Incredibly, they were! They seemed like the coolest possible club to be a member of. And everyone who met them wanted to join.
This made "the act" just as powerful as the music.
- - - - -
The above two factors alone mean that, with time and patience, the Beatles would have been a worldwide success. As pop/rock stars they were in an enviable position; they not only had great musical and writing talents, but great personal talents to back it up.
But why were they *such* a success? And how did they end up influencing a whole generation?
The sheer enormity of the Beatles’ fame was something that surprised everyone, including the Beatles themselves. But I believe I know how it happened. Let me illustrate with an analogy.
Many years ago while I was reading the comics section of the newspaper I saw, one day, an entry for “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not” that for some reason I’ve remembered. The panel showed a man in hunting clothes shooting a rifle in the forest. Nearby a rabbit, a grouse, and a trout were, respectively, hopping, flapping, and leaping. The caption went something like this: “Harold Johnson, while hunting in Minnesota, bagged three trophies with a single bullet! Shooting at a grouse that was rising from the grass, Harold’s bullet passed through the bird, then hit a rabbit leaping in a field beyond, and finally killed a trout jumping in a stream!”
Harold Johnson was probably a good shot, but I can only imagine that on this particular day he was utterly delighted, as well as a little amazed, by what happened with his miraculous bullet. And here’s where there’s a similarity with the Beatles. The Beatles were a wonderful and exceptional rock band, no question; but they also had very fortunate timing. If they had emerged in 1984 instead of 1964 their success wouldn’t have been nearly as tumultuous. This is primarily because in 1984 (or 1974 for that matter) the world was used to rock bands and rock sensibilities, whereas in 1964 the ideas of ‘youth music’ and ‘teenage culture’ were still novel to most people. In 1964 the planet Earth had, quite simply, never known a time when people under the age of 20 had their own distinctive language, clothes, music, literature and art. Certainly not in a way that was taken seriously by the older generation. But suddenly, in 1964, history flipped on its head. In the brand-new forest of postwar worldwide mass-media, the teenage trout and the pop-culture rabbit broke cover at precisely the same time that the Beatles were drawing a bead on the rock ‘n’ roll grouse. Bagging one, the Beatles bagged them all. And they were as surprised and amazed as Harold Johnson. Though you could certainly say that their shot reverberated a lot louder and longer than his.
Let’s get specific.
* * * * * * * * * *
3. The Beatles arrived on the world scene in a uniquely dramatic way.
It started in Britain, but the climax came in America. America was *the* market, no question. In 1962 the population of America was nearly three times that of Britain; and it was the legendary 'home' of rock 'n' roll, movies, books, and all other cultural things that mattered to the young. The "British Invasion" had not only not happened yet, it had not been recognized that such a thing could *ever* happen. America had been spared many of the privations of World War II, and its boisterous -- and slightly arrogant -- culture ever since was strictly for export only. Whoever ruled American pop ruled Western pop, and therefore world pop. And it was accepted in 1964 that this would be Americans. It was that simple.
The story is old but it bears repeating: during late 1962 and all of 1963 the Beatles' first singles were all sent to America and turned down by Capitol. As a result, they were passed on to Transglobal, who struck deals wherever possible. "Love Me Do," "Please Please Me," "From Me To You," "She Loves You," and all of the Please Please Me LP tracks were licensed to Swan and/or VeeJay, two small independent American labels. This was a gold mine, but nobody knew it yet. The records were released to limited, or no, effect in the United States. But in the meantime, there was a steady groundswell of interest gathering. Ed Sullivan saw one of their airport receptions in England and booked them for his TV show; Sid Bernstein ran across them during a night course in Civilization he was taking in New York, and made a deal to have them appear at Carnegie Hall. Local radio stations were playing their music. Then came ... the floodgates opening.
When "I Want To Hold Your Hand" broke into the US market in December 63/January 64 it went to number one *very* fast (sales of 2 million by Feb 1/64). It was the right song at the right moment. But those who were there will also testify that suddenly -- very suddenly -- like, within a month or two -- showbiz seemed positively *flooded* with the Beatles. This was due precisely to Capitol's reticence the year before, and hasty catch-up now. By early '64 Capitol had finally snapped awake and was giving the Beatles a publicity budget unheard-of in the past, and heavily promoting IWTHYH. But it was too late to regain control of the other records. And so, with cash-in fever hot in the land, VeeJay and Swan re-released their material, and the US record charts were suddenly filled with Beatle plastic. No sane record company would have done it this way. But it meant the public was well-nigh overwhelmed.
Billboard Feb 22/64
(Singles)
1. I Want To Hold Your Hand
2. She Loves You
29. Please Please Me
35. I Saw Her Standing There
54. My Bonnie
120. From Me To You
(LPs)
1. Meet The Beatles (Capitol)
3. Introducing The Beatles (VeeJay)
147. The Beatles and Guests (MGM)
The wave hit like an atom bomb and the climax was yet to come. In March the Beatles released their new single, "Can't Buy Me Love," showing that they were not one- or two- or even three-hit wonders. Where it all would end was anybody's guess.
Billboard April 4/64
(Singles)
1. Can't Buy Me Love
2. Twist and Shout
3. She Loves You
4. I Want To Hold Your Hand
5. Please Please Me
31. I Saw Her Standing There
41. From Me To You
46. Do You Want To Know A Secret
58. All My Loving
65. You Can't Do That
68. Roll Over Beethoven
79. Thank You Girl
(LPs)
1. Meet The Beatles
2. Introducing The Beatles
77. The Beatles and Guests
135. Jolly What! The Beatles & Frank Ifield
This radical, unheard-of, the-dam-has-burst introduction to the USA put the Beatles suddenly at the top of the very top. It meant they owned the world of pop. How long it would last was anybody's guess; but for the moment the snowball seemed to only get bigger; the well seemed to have no bottom. While pop records themselves, a runt industry only ten years before, seemed suddenly to be taking over the world. This double-whammy -- the sudden advent of the Beatles coupled with the unexpected explosion of pop music itself -- created a double-wave of success which, if you remember from high school physics, is known as a supercrest. It was a supercrest the like of which nobody had ever seen.
* * * * * * * * * *
4. The world of the early sixties was poised for a cultural revolution led by the young. The Beatles stepped onto the world stage at the precise right moment to become its leaders.
The Beatles earned their success, no question. But Beatlemania was also an example of the right act hitting the right generation at the right time.
The men and women who returned home from World War II in 1945, 6, and 7 to start families and have a normal life at last were, remember, children themselves of the 1930s. The Great Depression and the war had combined to create a very genuine and serious respect for poverty and hardship, and these folks knew only one sure way to succeed in life: Knuckle Down. Get to Work. Be Responsible. Join The Team. The literature of the 1950s is full of growing recognition of this phenomenon -- called "the new conformity" at the time -- and the price sometimes paid: novels like "The Company Man" and "The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit" pointed to the growing emptiness of suburbia, commuter life, 2.5 children, and all the other trappings of 'success'. Meantime, the first nudges of rebellion were in the air. "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac is about, essentially, not fitting in, and it became a cult classic. Others followed.
But these were voices on the fringe. Mainstream life in the 1950s -- the quiet, hardworking majority -- remained committed to Eisenhower-style values. The first really big backlash didn't come until 1956, and then it was led by the children -- the first crop of "teenagers" the wartime generation had reared. When the babies born in 1939, 1940, and 1941 at last began coming of age, they were ripe for something new, something their own, something to satisfy youthful hormones rampaging against the short-hair-boy-scout-grey-suit world they were being raised into. This was the year Elvis hit the scene and led a host of rock 'n' rollers into record stores and headlines. As would happen 8 years later with the Beatles, editorials and pulpits fulminated against this new phenomenon, while the kids themselves ate it up. But within four years the revolution had fizzled; and it is my opinion that the reason is sheer numbers; the world wasn't ready.
There were a significant number of teenagers in the world in 1956, but not enough. It was enough to give a momentary flash of success to Elvis, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Chuck Berry and others, but not enough (IMHO) for this "first wave" of rockers to withstand the counterpressure of society. Also, by and large the infrastructure wasn't in place yet, socially or physically, to give them a permanent toehold. Parents controlled the dance halls, TV, radio, and the record companies; parents held the concert licenses and controlled the police departments; parents held the car keys and, in most cases, the purse strings. So the overt revolution receded, but a quieter one remained. The 1950s burbled on, the number of roller rinks and juke-joints slowly growing, of radio stations and "pop" venues slowly accumulating, in anticipation of the second coming. It was to require another five or six years before their moment arrived; when at last there was a teenage segment of society that was truly large, powerful, and restless enough to support a music industry focused on them..
The Baby Boomers at last arrived with a vengeance, not in 1956, but in 1962. By that time they were the largest single segment of society that could be defined by age that the world had ever seen, and business interests around the world began waking up to the enormous profits to be made on them. Clothes, hairstyles, publications, movies, TV shows -- all began adjusting themselves to the new teenage phenomenon. Not exempt from this process was pop music.
But even by 1962 pop music was not yet thriving the way it should have; or the way it would only two years later. I think there are two main reasons for this: (a) the product was as yet out of step with the audience, and (b) the industry itself, with some justification, was looked on cynically by the kids themselves.
To take the latter first: before the 1960s, and from time immemorial, the pop music industry was a thing created for and run by grownups. In many ways the die was cast in the 1930s: adults made the music, adults sold it, and kids and their parents all listened to it. In the 1950s the acts became younger, but still, the industry and the music, with rare exceptions, seemed to be adult-controlled. Even Elvis, who led the charge in 1956, was not immune. He could begin a career, sure, by appealing to kids; but to sustain a career he had to ultimately win over their parents (the reverse of today). So it took very few years for his image to start being 'tamed,' his appeal to become 'wider' (ie, softer). This had a less than salient effect, however, on the attitudes of the kids buying the stuff. I think deep in the universal teenage breast (!) by the early 1960s there was a general restlessness and impatience with this whole state of affairs -- a wanting of something new. The second generation of rock fans was now in its pupal stage, and, emerging, they didn't want Jerry Lee and Elvis and that old stuff their older brothers & sisters had had. They wanted something their own.
As to the music itself: unlike some others, I strongly feel that the heart of rock 'n' roll had been substantially tamed by the early 1960s. The men in suits, combined with economic realities, had done their work, and when the original rabble-rousers of 1956 came and went, the replacements were of a softer mien. Also, they still had the 1950s 'stamp' on them. As ever, the music business was retreading yesterday's formula, instead of looking for tomorrow's.
Look at the following sample of Billboard Top Five charts from 1963 pre-Beatles America:
Jan 26/63
1. The Rooftop Singers: "Walk Right In"
2. Paul & Paula: "Hey Paula"
3. Steve Lawrence: "Go Away Little Girl"
4. The Excitors: "Tell Him"
5. Bobby Vee: "The Night Has A Thousand Eyes"
Mar 9/63
1. The Four Seasons: "Walk Like A Man"
2. Dion: "Ruby Baby"
3. The Cascades: "Rhythm of the Rain"
4. Paul & Paula: "Hey Paula"
5. Bobby Darin: "You're The Reason I'm Living"
May 18/63
1. Jimmy Soul: "If You Wanna Be Happy"
2. Little Peggy March: "I Will Follow Him"
3. Peter, Paul & Mary: "Puff (The Magic Dragon)"
4. The Beach Boys: "Surfin' U.S.A."
5. The Shirelles: "Foolish Little Girl"
July 6/63
1. Essex: "Easier Said Than Done"
2. Kyu Sakamoto: "Sukiyaki"
3. Bobby Vinton: "Blue on Blue"
4. Barbara Lewis: "Hello Stranger"
5. Lesley Gore: "It's My Party"
Oct 12/63
1. Jimmy Gilmer & the Fireballs: "Sugar Shack"
2. The Ronettes: "Be My Baby"
3. Bobby Vinton: "Blue Velvet"
4. Garnet Mimms & the Enchanters: "Cry Baby"
5. The Jaynetts: "Sally Go 'Round the Roses"
Now I admit there are glimmers here and there (good ol' Dion!), but by and large there just isn't the glorious, uproarious, fun, happy, rocking noise that the Beatles later made. And assuming that a record did catch your ear, what of the act behind it? You might think Steve Lawrence is nice -- but did his mere presence thrill you? With irreverence? Charm? Bobby Vee? Paul and Paula? These acts just aren't very rambunctious -- i.e., youthful. And more to the point, they weren't *new* and *now*. The concept of choral groups, folksy pairs, and crooners went back ten years. Where was something new? For today’s kids?
The Beatles' arrival upended this entrenched pop pyramid with a jolt. Suddenly everything looked old-fashioned. Here was a 'group' without an obvious leader; a happy bunch with a wholly irreverent attitude towards anyone and anything, especially themselves; playing music they wrote themselves, at a loud volume and with a thrilling back-beat. Suddenly pop music seemed honest again! A personal example: I can still remember a female school acquaintance of mine during my tender years telling me, in all seriousness (this was about 1965) that the Beatles only wrote songs about true experiences from their own life. Now I know better, but the point is, that's what young people thought in those days. The Beatles didn’t look like they were trying to please their elders; they seemed to care about music just for themselves and, it seemed, for us. They delivered it with *joy* and *energy*. It was more than just a few new cool pop singles. It was great music ... made without grownups seeming to interfere in any meaningful way.
And with their continued success, lo and behold, the face of the industry itself began to change. Within a very short time groups began emerging who had no leader: no more Such-such and the so-and-sos. The crooners went into sharp decline. In their place arose groups that were, too, writing their own songs, playing their own guitars. And they were trying to appear, too, to be *here* and *now*. Many succeeded, many more failed. But in any case, in a short time it became accepted wisdom that a band, to have any credibility -- unlike Elvis just a few short years before -- had to eschew the appearance of influence by the older generation. Which led, within a few years, to it being anathema for a band to appear to even *agree* with the older generation. The music business was growing up. Rock 'n' roll was becoming rock.
And the Beatles -- sometimes in reality, sometimes only by coincidence -- appeared to absolutely be leading the way. They made the coolest sounding records anybody had heard in a long, long time, and backed it up with a breathtaking sense of fun and adventure. In the early 1960s, man, we were ready for this; not because of Kennedy being shot, but because the whole scene was just getting so darn grey and dull. For their part, they were a pop group that wanted success; but what they found waiting for them at the end of the road was a whole impassioned generation who went HooRAH!! at their arrival. We wanted something new, fresh, young, and un-parent-like. And, rightly or wrongly, we lay our collective hopes with a vengeance at the feet of the Beatles.
Who, in turn, seemed more than happy -- within the limits of their healthy irreverence -- to go along with the crazy ride for as long as it lasted.
* * *
And as the Beatles took off, so did pop culture.
The mass media of the late fifties and early sixties - run by the men in grey flannel suits - was not terribly sophisticated, and the uniformity of its message was nearly unbroken. Work Hard, Raise A Family, Be Responsible, Father Knows Best ... these and other cultural messages were repeated on TV, in magazines, at the movies, and on radio, with only minor variations, ad nauseam. Today we see this as an early sixties 'style' that is cute and retro; but in those days it could also feel downright monolithic and oppressive. Young people, therefore, were united as never before by the simple fact that, across a broad spectrum, they all faced a very similar kind of cultural pressure. From New York to California, all across the land inarticulate youth sought wisdom - or just a little excitement - and repeatedly found drabness. There was no notion of 'finding yourself' yet in those days. By the end of high school you had two or three life options, and you took one or the other, and that was it. What kind of deal was that?
The Beatles, in this context, seemed heaven-sent. Here they were, in a unique role as spokesmen of a generation -- and they weren't saying "be like your parents." In fact, most parents seemed to suddenly want to be like *them.* To our amazement, they were rebels! *Successful* rebels! They walked the very halls of the older generation and had them eating out of their hands!! Without, it appeared, sacrificing their (and our) ideals!! This was well-nigh unbelievable. And tremendously *empowering.* It made you feel like *somebody* in those days, to have such *kings* on your side. The Beatles might be having lunch with the Prime Minister, but they would turn right around the next minute and say they were bored by the idea of a job and house and car; they wanted to live a little first.
And unlike the 1950s, this time there were many grownups who seemed to agree with them. The idea of 'youth culture' as being a separate thing, worthy of its own place in the world, and being given its own space to flourish, was given new credence in the '60s. Perhaps it was because the parents themselves had not been all that thrilled by the drabness of the '50s. For whatever reasons, teenagers were, if not encouraged, then tacitly permitted by their parents to 'live a little' -- before, naturally, buckling down to responsible adulthood. Little did anyone know that 'live a little' was to morph rapidly into a whole new culture of ideas that permeated every level, every age group, every corner of society.
But morph it did. Because (IMHO) the force behind it was new, unprecedented in size, and (very important) not yet balkanized. Pop music and culture in the '60s, once unleashed, leaped to the fore of the entertainment business with singular focus and undivided power. The novelty and speed of it made you giddy: its influence, once nowhere, was suddenly -- driven by the sheer purchasing power of millions of united teenagers -- everywhere; movies, clothes, books and magazines all reflected the influence of this upstart youngster, instead of the other way around. For the second time in a decade, adults groaned and released control of the record player to their sons and daughters, suffering the clang of guitars, the racket of drums. Pop quickly became the distinct emblem of youth; an emblem youth proudly wore. But this time it was more than an emblem; it was big enough, united enough, to become a bona fide culture. Teenagers, as ever since, dressed like pop stars, talked like them, wore their hair the same, and looked to them as role models. They sought to incorporate their idols' attitudes into their own lives. They met on weekends and school nights to play the sacred records. They talked about them. It was a significant part of their whole existence.
But for the first time, those teenagers seemed to be everywhere. It was a revolution on a scale nobody had encountered before. Teenagers ever since have revered pop/rock stars, but in 1964 this reverence had much more of an impact on society at large because it was all so new, and nobody knew what it precisely meant. The sheer size of the apparent movement was impressive as hell and sometimes frightening. What was going on? Was culture dying? Or flourishing? Were youth throwing away all that was of value in the older generation? Or were they creating something new of even greater value? Was social revolution imminent? Was the world going to end as we know it? There was no precedent to turn to, no yardstick to go by. All anybody knew was that here was this huge movement, this juggernaut of jungenfreid, roaring over the land -- and the sheer size of it surely must mean -- well, something!? Nervous of being caught behind -- or beneath -- the wave, the establishment began making unprecedented allowances. Pop culture began showing up in unlikely places: on university curricula, in orchestral programs, in encyclopedia and the op-ed section of the Times. Many adults themselves began embracing its trappings; wearing longer hair, more colorful clothing. The whole Western world was engaged in the debate, it seemed. This wasn't just pop music anymore. This was the future of the world itself!!
I know that seems a bit crazy, but I'm not over-emphasizing. The fact is, pop music, and pop culture, as born in the early '60s, reared up like a horse of the Apocalypse and rode through the land until about 1974. For much of that time, it had a great deal of unity. The hair, the clothes, may have changed from year to year, but they changed in step for untold millions. And the music, as I said before -- the binding force -- had not yet fragmented into a thousand sub-genres. There was rock 'n' roll, r&b, pop, folk, and soul -- that was about it. And pop was unquestionably king -- that is, the new pop, as the Beatles did it. Therefore, from 1963 until 1970, once you'd decided what kind of music you liked, your whole style of dress and mode of behavior, even your friends, followed. There was no home video, no cable, no cell phone, no MTV, no DVDs, no World Wide Web to distract you. Radio and records and concerts were it; so what radio station you listened to was as much a part of your life as what air you breathed. And because these sub-genres were so few, they were, as a result, much more powerful - and influential. You and millions like you listened to the Beatles; it was a mass-movement the like of which, I say again, the world had never seen on such a scale. The Beatles, kings of pop, perforce became kings of a generation.
- - - - -
So okay: it was big. It was widespread. And the Beatles were initially at the forefront. But how did they remain there for so long? And were they really all that influential?
* * * * * * * * * *
5. First, the Beatles adapted to changing times -- in step with their fans. And second: yes.
When the Beatles first hit the scene they were tremendously attractive not only because of their style and music and humor, but because they seemed so much a part of us. The good us. The us that we ourselves wanted to be.
In 1963-4 the Beatles, pretty much everyone at the time agreed, were pretty cool. But how long could it last? That was the question for cynics of the hour. How long could teenagers stay crazy for Beatle boots, mop-top hairstyles, jangling guitars? A year? Two at most? No pop group had ever lasted more than that, so, again, there was no precedent to go by. Everyone -- even the Beatles themselves -- expected the whole thing to be over in a year or two. After that it would surely be somebody else's turn.
But the Beatles, unknown even to themselves, were a different breed, and they outlasted most of their critics because they adapted. As times changed, they changed. It can be said in two words: Relevance (which they maintained), and Reinvention (which they practiced).
The Beatles of 1964 were young, curious, lively individuals, and they exploited their new-found fame to gain admittance to anything and everything that was new and different and 'happening' in London at that time. These things -- thoughts, ideas, tastes, clothing styles, books, movies and plays -- some worthy, others not -- made their way into their lives, music, clothes, attitudes and ideas.
As far as the musical influence of such a lifestyle can be measured, we have their records as documentary proof. I have often said to people, and I mean it: "The Beatles were the last time that the world's most progressive rock band was also the most popular." Right from the start the Beatles were fascinated by the recording studio, and loved coming up with new sounds, new experiments, that -- with sheer brash confidence -- they brought into their singles and albums in places of prominence. They were also, however, aficionados of all that was going on musically and culturally around them, and as new ideas came to the fore, new artists came to their attention, they folded all this into their records too -- but not in copycat fashion, more in a desire to do their rivals one better. The result of all this is a breathtaking leap forward with almost every new single and LP (admittedly, most obvious *after* they dropped the mop-top image and began to see themselves as studio musicians, but the roots are there even in the earliest work).
Imagine for a moment that it is the fall of 1965. This would mean that the latest Beatles album is "Help!" Cheery stuff. The current single is "Ticket to Ride." This is all in the tradition of Beatlemania which has continued unbroken since last year (in the USA) or the year before last (in the UK).
But what’s coming up? Well, this Christmas they will release "Rubber Soul" ("Norwegian Wood," "Nowhere Man," "Michelle"). Six months later will come "Revolver" ("Taxman," "Eleanor Rigby," "I'm Only Sleeping," "Yellow Submarine," "For No One," "Dr. Robert," "Tomorrow Never Knows.") Whew! What happened to the mop-tops? Then it just gets more amazing. Next year at Christmas we’ll have the single "Penny Lane" and the majestic, hallucinogenic "Strawberry Fields Forever," and six months after that it's "Sgt. Pepper," "All You Need Is Love," "Magical Mystery Tour," "I Am The Walrus," and, and... well, my breath fails me.
Think of the speed! Think of the progression! It's as if the Backstreet Boys turned into Radiohead overnight. Think of the Beatles as a current band, operating right now, sitting at the pinnacle of showbiz, with everything to lose by blowing it musically. Just LAST YEAR they produced the album and movie that many regard as the pinnacle of fun-pop and what has been called the Citizen Kane of pop movies: "A Hard Day's Night." Twanging 12-string guitars, beautiful harmonies, gorgeous songwriting (a full Lennon/McCartney program for the first time), sheer mop-top romantic splendor from start to finish. Many a group would be happy to live on those royalties and that reputation the rest of their lives. But next year the SAME GROUP is going to release one of the best-written, best-produced, most avant-garde and inventive records of anytime, "Revolver," chockablock with ADT/flanging, compression, backwards tapes, cryptic lyrics, musical experimentation, and songwriting on another plane altogether.
That the Beatles morphed in this way -- from #1 pop group to #1 rock group -- in only two years is testament to my point #1 above; freakish musical talent and ability. But that they *wanted* to do so is a large part of why people remained devoted to them, and why they remained so influential beyond the first wave. Because it was testament to a depth of honesty in the band that I think their fans had always felt was there, but didn't dare count on. We loved the Beatles. We didn't want them to go. But we were starting to outgrow them. By late 1965 we were a year or two older than when they'd first arrived, and we had been listening, now, to new acts -- Donovan, Dylan, the Byrds -- with new ears. The Beatles seemed like such a perfect encapsulation of pop that it was hard, nay impossible, to imagine them becoming rock. When they did, it just made you shake your head in amazement. And their rock was not just a lurch, a stumble, in a new direction for cynical reasons, for the sake of money or continued fame. It was new music of a depth that made it obvious they had the same impulses as you; they were listening to the same cool new things you were -- and in many cases, even cooler things. While "Rubber Soul" was a kind-of new type of record for them, "Revolver" was *amazingly* new. And very cool. You could listen to it in 1966 without -- like "Meet The Beatles" -- being embarrassed. In fact, it was downright avant-garde.
So it was always the music that led the way. If the Beatles had only remained Charming as Hell there would have been no lasting relevance. But they were more, much more. With everything to lose, they reinvented themselves into the 1966 Beatles, and beyond. As a result, they remained firmly at the center of the pop world. Which meant they remained at the center of pop's influence.
Being at the center, what did they do there? Much as before, they remained young, curious, and lively, and, as I've said, they exploited their new-found fame to gain admittance to anything and everything that was new and different . Because the Beatles were also the subject of one of the most intensely prolonged media circuses ever convened, however, it was never long before their latest doings, pronouncements, and interests made their way into the papers. Either the Sunday supplement or the latest Teen Beat would be full of Paul's playgoing, John's poems and stories. And of course, pictures.
In this way, whatever the Beatles were interested in inevitably made its way out into the world at large. Sometimes this was in a direct fashion. It was enough for a Beatle to take an interest in a young artist's career for that artist to suddenly find himself the toast of London, with gallery offers and book deals lining up at the door. Sometimes it was more indirect: if the Beatles gave money to a starving poet, who then managed to publish as a result, his influence became part of the London scene -- and therefore part of the world scene -- while the Beatle connection was scarcely recognized. And in many other instances, a casual mention by a Beatle at a party of a songwriter they liked, a poet they found interesting, was sufficient to start a groundswell of interest throughout the community. If they had stayed home and watched telly it never would have happened. But they were curious people and very involved in the London art milieu throughout their careers (and beyond). And the sheer weight of their fame meant that influence followed wherever they went.
Fan devotion also played a large part. If a particular Beatle liked a certain author or painter at the moment, that fact was sure to be mentioned in the latest profile in Beatles Monthly and countless other magazines. From here, the said Beatle's recommendation, however passing, was taken up as gospel by large numbers of fans, who absorbed the words, lived by them, and began transmitting them to the culture at large. Booksellers in Perth, Stockholm, Beirut and Kansas City would all suddenly have difficulty stocking Kierkegaard after Paul casually said he'd read him recently. After a time, these tastes and influences became to a great many fans an organic part of themselves; many hated Kierkegaard, but enough liked him to make a difference. While Paul, meantime, was now reading somebody else.
This became a feedback loop of sorts. The Beatles would find something and give it to the world. The world would accept it, change it, and send it back in some new form. The Beatles, at the center of whatever was 'happening' at the moment, would be among the first to see the new vogue, adopt it, and the cycle would start anew. Thus, they and their public were almost always in step. Whatever we seemed to be taking an interest in throughout the 1960s -- poetry, folk art, psychedelic drugs, experimental theatre, whatever -- the Beatles were invariably there with us, if not before us. Their songs were filled with reference to same, or influenced by these things. Their interviews in the press were full of their new discoveries, their latest interests. The point is this: it had staying power because it evolved. The fan-Beatles feedback-loop began in the steady state of early Beatlemania, but in the ensuing years it leapt forward, as the culture itself did, with astonishing speed and variety. As things turned up, the Beatles often turned up with it, and vice-versa. In fact, this happened so often and so repeatedly that it began to seem to many that the Beatles were actually behind the whole big thing; that the whole sixties revolution in clothes, culture, manners and mores started with them. I'm not joking; this was seriously believed by many people. But if the truth were somewhat less godlike, they *were* still enormously influential, because they were enormously famous, and enormously involved in what was going on around them. And if the changes came thick and fast, why not? As I say, they were freaks; they were freakishly endowed with an ability to embrace new things and turn them rapid-fire into pop records and films that had real *meaning* for their generation of fans at the time. When a situation like this prevails for, not a year or two, but five years going on ten, it's no wonder they begin to seem culturally omniscient. They were virtually omnipresent, which to many seemed like the same thing.
It all would have broken down had the Beatles been out of step with their fans, or indeed, the world at large. But in fact, from the start of their career to the end, they always seemed to have much in common with you and me. They, like us, had felt the pinch of the 1950s and the dissatisfaction with life's drab options. They, like us, were excited by the new times, the new opportunities, of the new decade. They, like us, were curious about things: what was all this fuss about Schopenhauer? Who was this Kerouac? They, like us, were a bit distrustful of pop as a brand-new industry and force in the world, and they, like us, wanted to open their horizons but also keep their feet on the ground. It was, in a sense, very reassuring to have such guys sitting at the top of the rockpile. I well remember myself how the Beatles, through the sixties, sat like princes above all the rest, and always seemed to have better judgment than the others. You could trust these guys.
And their mode suited just about everyone who came in contact. If you were the slavish type, you could copy them. If you were more self-reliant, you could still take heart from their example of forward-looking open-mindedness. Either way, they set a mighty fast pace, rushing into the future not with apparent trepidation but with humor and excitement. To those of us who were young then, and sometimes felt the pressure of more serious, sober, even dour prophets of the sixties, the Beatles were always like a breath of fresh air, a nice breeze of normalcy. You don't have to freak out, man. Just be cool and check out the scene. And if you don't groove to it, split.
While, all the while -- unlike us -- they were special; they continued to give voice, month in and month out, to sentiments in song that the world was ready to embrace. "Hey Jude" wasn't just a single; it was an anthem, the anthem of its moment. Once again, it was a Beatle record unlike any that had gone before; and yet once again, it put its finger gently right on your very own pulse. But then again, so did "A Hard Day's Night," and "Strawberry Fields," and "Let It Be" and "All You Need Is Love," and "Ticket To Ride." Not always, but often, uncannily often, it seemed like the perfect thing you wanted to express was to be found somewhere on the latest Beatles record. That, to me, remains the heart of their *personal* influence. I'll never know how many books I've read, paintings I've seen, clothes I've worn, or rock records I've played, because they liked it first. But I *do* know that musically they were magical people, and brought magic to life whenever the world seemed to need it. Hearing their records, alone in your home, you didn't just feel pleased, or intrigued, or delighted -- you also felt less alone in the world. In the company of like minds. Endorsed. Validated.
What was life like -- what were the secret dreams, fantasies, and myths of youth in the summer of 1964? Just listen to A Hard Day's Night, and you will know. 1967? Just ask Sgt. Pepper.
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And then they broke up, which, in the end, if you're looking at it from a cultural-impact point of view, just cements the whole thing even more firmly. They may have stumbled here and their in their prime -- Help! and Magical Mystery Tour come to most critics' minds -- but the Beatles never really flopped for any sustained period. Or more likely, they never had a chance to fade from unique brilliance into being just another supergroup -- who, as the 1970s progressed, began to serve rock's third generation of fans, a group far less united than the first and second. It would have been impossible for a band in 1976 to repeat what the Beatles had done in 1966, because, by that time, pop itself was no longer king; there were too many new genres out there -- funk, funkadelic, disco, pop, pop/rock, folk, folk/rock, progressive rock, glam rock, hard rock, heavy metal, etc., etc. The world of teenagers would never again be united as they were in 1962, primed for great things to happen, and willing and able for it to be the same great thing for everybody.
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And, er, that's why why they were great and influential.
tongue hanging out...
fingers collapsing...
keyboard melting...
Paul