A dancing fish

Really, an old clip of Abe Vigoda, who played the character Phil Fish in the show Barney Miller and famously Sal Tessio in The Godfather, gives a glimpse of his singing and dancing abilities: 

A good sport, he joked that when people met him on the street in his later years, they usually expressed shock that he was still alive.  It didn't seem to phase him.  People with that level of humor and understanding always impresses me. 

Telescoping cultural history

Internet age style.  One of the odd quirks I've noticed over the last decade or so is how so much of older culture is being forgotten, or at least devalued.  Outside of certain fanboy circles, what once was held with reverence and revered is today almost entirely irrelevant.  It isn't that I'm shocked that the 80s are now as far away as the 50s were when I was growing up.  But I'm shocked at how aware we were of the 50s culture versus how little awareness there seems to be regarding the 80s, 40s, or any other decade today.

Let me explain.  The reason why Back to the Future worked for my generation is not that we were stunned by the cultural differences that Marty McFly discovers on his way back to his parents' teen years.  It's that we knew the references very well.  We knew the music, the TV, the fashion.  We were aware of those things.  We knew who the biggies were.  We even admired some of those old icons.  We knew the movies, the stars, Elvis and the other early rock stars.  We also knew the older stars they were replacing: Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, even older Bing Crosby. We knew the TV shows, the movies.  We knew how people dressed.  And we sometimes admired and even liked their craft.

Today, when I read sites dedicated to culture, like movies, it's as if there really wasn't a film industry before 1992.  Oh sure, some will have the obligatory Chaplin movie, or Duck Soup, or The Seven Samurai.  But on the whole, you'd think if it wasn't laden with CGI or featuring the latest, hippest, it just didn't exist.  And if older movies are mentioned, there is almost an apology for the lack of sophistication, or old standard styles that existed at the time.

Which brings me to Steve Graydanus.  He's every Catholic's favorite movie critic.  And yet?  He exemplifies what I mean.  Set aside the fact that when it comes to movies influenced by American Protestantism, you can expect at least a finger wagging, if not a drop of a letter grade.  That's just the Catholic coming out.

But go to his site here, and see what he praises, what he doesn't, and what he doesn't even mention, which to me represents everything I'm noticing.  Movies like The Godfather, Gone With the Wind*, Cool Hand Luke, Cape Fear, Psycho, and The Sting - movies considered revolutionary, influential, or among the greatest ever made, aren't even mentioned.  You might say it's because his is a family guide site, and those aren't family.  Yet he has R rated movies (see The Silence of the Lambs).  Why not these?

When he does rate classics, such as Snow White or Stage Coach, he often injects slights at them for various era based distinctives, or seems to say 'nothing special, but an A for reputation', even if he ends up praising  the overall films for reasons his review doesn't reflect.  Or he dismisses them outright.  Yet he gives a B- to The Phantom Menace.  A B+ to The Lego Movie!  Are you kidding me?  Sure it was cute, but Lawrence of Arabia gets an A-, while the Lego Movie gets a B+?

It's as if the Internet age has changed things.  Changed what we accept as good, quality, acceptable, unacceptable, classic, legend.  Sometimes it's as if things that once were the "Essentials" have suddenly been tossed on the trash heap.  What was once legend is now antique at best.  Once the medal standard is now a forgotten footnote.  I don't know why. I don't even have a theory.

I just know that when my friends and I watched 1933 King Kong, in the post-Star Wars era, we thought it was awesome.  We got that it was old, the special effect weren't up to Star Wars.  We got that the acting was different than modern acting.  We hadn't been influenced by Multi-cultural PC enough to look for racism and bigotry in every frame of every movie, but we got that it was of its time.  Unlike modern movie review sites, we wouldn't lament the special effects, acting, racism, or anything else.  We took it for its time and praised it accordingly.  And any young, budding movie critic would also have to grapple with such films, even if they didn't care for them, because they were part of the whole cinematic package.  It's noteworthy that Decent Films doesn't even review the original Kong, mentioning it only in the review of Jackson's 2005 remake, and then more or less dismissing it as uninteresting and not worth much more acknowledgement than setting up the basis for Jackson's B Graded remake. A movie that once garnered praise and adoration from critics, movie buffs, film historians, and youngsters of every generation, reduced to an afterthought.  Such is the fruits of the Internet Age.

Mr. Graydanus is not alone.  Like so many modern film critics, he seems to have little to say about anything old, unless it tickles his fancy for this or that reason.  Likewise, fanboy that he is, his respect is reserved for the latest fantasy/comic book laden stories with copious amounts of CGI.  Sure, he gives bad reviews to movies, often when they flagrantly assault a major part of the Catholic ethos.  This isn't to pick on Mr. Graydanus.  In fact, I enjoy reading his reviews, even if I disagree with many of his conclusions.  But he represents a trend that is far more common, even among older critics trying to appeal to the Internet age, than it is the exception.  Just look at the IMBD top movies list for examples.

It's post-modern, mixed with the Internet cubicles of a fragmenting generation. I owe nothing to anything greater than myself or the particular clique to which I belong. If I'm a movie reviewer, and don't care about or want to look at a given movie, then so be it. And woe betide anything other than a small handful of old offerings that fail to measure up to the awesomeness of Now (compare his C rating for the delightful 1977 The Hobbit animated movie with his B level rating for Jackson's 2012 cinematic version - what was better in Jackson's other than the use of CGI?).  Back in the day, a movie critic who didn't include The Godfather would be like a Revolutionary War historian who had nothing to say about Washington.  But not today.  What that says about the greater trends of our post-modern Internet age, I don't know.  But I'm 100% convinced it says something, and eventually will say it loudly.

*It's worth noting that Decent Films has few reviews of the greatest movies from 1939, considered for almost all time as the Greatest Year in Movies.  Including Gone With the Wind.  Again, it says much, IMHO.

NOTE:  This is an old post from about a decade or so ago.  This was well before Deacon Greydanus banned me the first time, when we used to get on well even when we disagreed.  So this was not some slap at him over his clear swing to the Left of center.  This was when we got along, and he sometimes would admit I made a good point or two, even when we disagreed.  It just came up with a slew of visits, and I found it interesting.  Especially as I pondered how he did exemplify many of those old 'postmodern' traits, well before his shift left. I wondered if there might be a connection, somehow postmodernity being a gateway drug to the left of center so to speak.  Perhaps that's the loud statement I was expecting.  

An armchair quarterback generation

Captain Hunnicutt.  Note the red suspenders

I can't find a video of it.  Appearing in the final season (which some call MASH's Repentance Tour), the episode  I'll be referring to has a two-fold story line.  One, a light hearted story, is how a false rumor that Marilyn Monroe will visit the 4077th MASH gets out of hand.  

The other storyline, much more serious, involves BJ Hunnicutt.  His character was a replacement for the character Trapper John when actor Wayne Rogers left the show.  Over the course of the series, BJ changed from a light hearted, witty, family friendly companion of  Alan Alda's Hawkeye Pierce, to a more dour, cynical and at times caustic character.   

In this episode, he and a chopper pilot abscond with a helicopter to find the best fishing in the area.  On the way, they see a hapless American soldier on the ground, being set upon by the enemy.  They try to go down to rescue him, but the enemy is near.  BJ insists they try again, so they fly low and throw him a rope.  The soldier grabs it and begins to climb.  Just then, gunfire rings out and hits the helicopter.  The pilot yells to cut the rope, they're hit, the engine is damaged, and the soldier is too heavy.  Being a doctor back then and sworn to protect life, BJ objects, but has to cut it, watching in horror as the young solder plunges back down into the enemy surrounded countryside. 

Through the rest of the episode, intermixed with the lighter Monroe storyline, BJ frantically calls and searches everywhere to find out what might have happened to the solider in question.  He calls aid stations, evac hospitals, other MASH units.  He even travels to one when he is told a patient there matches the description, only to be shattered when he finds out it isn't him.  To make matters worse, he finds out he has been nominated for a medal for what he is torn up about doing. 

Toward the end of the episode, Hawkeye tries to console him.  He tells BJ he did what he had to do.  Had he not cut that rope, he might have gotten that medal posthumously.  BJ fires back that thanks to his own selfish decision, someone is going to get a medal posthumously.  Hawkeye then admits he would have cut the rope had he been in BJ's situation.  At that point BJ snaps  He tells Hawkeye that he doesn't have a damn clue what he would or wouldn't do, and he hopes to God he never finds out.  And then he says this: 

“We sit around here in our Hawaiian shirts and red suspenders thumbing our noses at the Army, drinking home-brewed gin and flouting authority at every turn, and feeling oh-so-superior to those military fools who kill each other, and oh-so-self-righteous when we clean up after them. Well, good luck to you, pal. I hope you can keep it up. The minute I cut that rope, that made me a soldier."

In that one speech, he defines the entire modern era and its approach to - everything.  An era defined, let's be honest, by spending most of our time sitting in the comfort our forebears built for us, criticizing, complaining, condemning, mocking, and spitting on anyone and everyone, anything and everything, and especially the heroes - especially old dead sinful heroes who built what we are letting be destroyed.  A generation, I'm afraid, that would rather tear down the heroes than confront the villains of today.  

This all came to my mind when I saw this some time ago:

Now, I'll admit I've cooled to Karl Keating's musings over the years. As a Protestant Clergy Convert (PCC), he loomed large in the writings I was pointed to, and I was often glad of that.  But in recent years, I can't put my finger on why, I find him less edifying than in the olden crazy days of our entrance into the Church.

Victor David Hanson is a historian I sometimes enjoy, though I admit he can go historian shock jock, especially on social media.  Nonetheless he obviously has noticed something I've been observing for some time.  It's something my oldest noticed way back in his undergrad days.  He noticed that many called young conservative today would embrace things and accept things, ideals and values and lifestyles that would make a Woodstock hippy blush.  And that includes accepting many leftwing appraisals about the West and its unique evils in the world, including the evils of the good old USA. 

What Hanson is doing is heading off at the pass the growing tendency of even conservatives to accept these premises.  Including the conspiracy theory that the allies orchestrated the war – which is becoming more common to the Left of center.  Remember, even Pope Francis alluded to the old ‘We could have bombed a few rail lines and ended the Holocaust, but of course we didn’t’ canard.  Which is but a part of the whole ‘WW2 as Western Capitalist Conspiracy’ theory.  You know, we could have stopped the war at any time but our lust for global conquest and big bucks from our military industrial establishment would have none of it.  That’s what Hanson is aiming at.  That we bombed civilians is old news to this up and coming generation.  Of course we did.  We orchestrated the whole war and supported the Holocaust.  Why not bomb civilians for grins and giggles? 

From that POV, there was nothing but evil in WW2 (I forget which news outlet got in trouble back in 2022 for posting that meme showing the D-Day landings photo and then saying ‘Celebrating an army of white supremacists wading ashore to fight and army of white supremacists!’).  That is what more people are learning and saying, with even some conservatives apparently joining in (see David Brooks’ rise of the Conservative Nihilism).  Yet despite Hanson's desire to address this developing problem, what does Keating do?  Sweeps in and says not so fast buster, it's the bombings and nothing but the vile bombings.  We must ever and always address the bombings.  Be gone with your noble crusade gibberish.  

But that's us I'm afraid.  Even the thought that we should see the noble crusade element of WW2 seemed to set Keating off.  No way.  No heroes to honor, no sacrifices to remember. We zero in on the bad, the failings, the scandal, the controversy, anything other than just say 'we salute them.'  Or should I say, we sit around here in our Hawaiian shirts and red suspenders thumbing our noses at anyone in history, drinking home-brewed gin and flouting their legacy at every turn, and feeling oh-so-superior to those fools of the past, and oh-so-self-righteous when we perpetually turn from every noble cause to target their failure at being as awesome as we are on the Internet. 

I've often said that if all we do is find ways to criticize or tear down our heroes, don't be shocked when we end up with so few of them.  Which might go a long way in explaining what we see today. 

Hopefully some day, as large of a task as it would be, we'll have enough people finally stand up and say what BJ said. Hopefully some day we will realize just how shallow and self-righteous and basically valueless we've become. When all we can do is compare ourselves favorably to anyone who has accomplished great things by insisting we could have done better, yet with so little evidence to show for our claims. 

Episode 6, Season 11 "Bombshells":  He can be taught

Sometimes a good reminder is a nice thing

 So today, it's worth going back and remembering something like this:

If you have the time, you'll be glad you did

That is the television series finale for the 1960s British spy thriller The Prisoner.  Created by Patrick McGoohan, my second oldest said it's what you would get if Lewis Carroll wrote 1984.  The finale is one of those things that you have to see to believe.  We've watched some crazy things in our lives, but this has to rank near the top.  

Which is a nice thing to remember, since we all know what day this is:

Yep.  I mused on that here.  It still sticks in my mind as perhaps the single worst television broadcast of my life.  Compared to that, even the finale for The Prisoner comes off as tame and ordinary.  

The Reality of JAWS

THIS IS FROM AN EARLIER POST.

Since today marks the 50th Anniversary of the movie that started the whole Summer Blockbuster era that would eventually separate Oscar from Box Office, it's worth reposting.  FWIW, JAWS itself, like Star Wars, ET, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Rocky, and Raiders of the Lost Ark were also Blockbusters but widely praised by the Academy.  JAWS was, in fact, nominated for Best Picture (losing out to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest).  So here it is, with the musing I had from the day: 

"None of man's fantasies of evil can compare to the reality of Jaws."

That was the line that opened one of the TV commercials for JAWS in 1975.  It was the movie everyone was talking about.  There are famous movies, legendary movies and great movies.  And then there are those historic movies.  Not movies about history, but movies that made history.  Gone With the Wind, Citizen Kane, King Kong (33), Star Wars, the Ten Commandments, The Godfather, The Exorcist, Easy Rider, and of course JAWS.

At a time when many believed it would be endless years before the 100 million dollar mark was breached, when movies were aimed at general audiences, when realism was beginning to dominate and the R-Rating was allowing Hollywood to shatter taboos, a young Stephen Spielberg unleashed what many consider to be the greatest horror film of all time on an almost ill-prepared movie going audience.

Much has been written about the movie.  And next to Citizen Kane, few other movies have become as

known for the production as the finished product.  Everyone knows the mechanical shark didn't work.  State of the art for the day, salt water did it in, forcing Spielberg to adopt a more Hitchcockian approach to what would have been a 'monster shark eats people' disaster film of the mid-70s. Union problems, zoning problems, difficulties shooting on the ocean, cantankerous crew, bickering actors - Spielberg has said that for many months after the film's release, he would wake up in a cold sweat thinking he was still working on the set.

And yet, when it hit theaters in the summer of 1975: movie magic.  Hollywood realized there was a whole new way to package and market films.  The Summer Blockbuster, whose bastard children are still alive today, was born.  Spielberg became a superstar.  John William's iconic score went down as one of the greatest ever composed for a film.  One of the greatest monologues in movie history. Martha's Vineyard officially became a major tourist spot.  And in the summer of 1975, revenues for the beach industry took a sharp plunge.

And why not?  Even then it was recognized as better than your average horror thriller, garnering an Academy Award nomination (losing to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest).  And though some criticized the lack of character development among some of the cast (though usually not the principle characters), today it looks like a Shakespearean drama by comparison.

Spielberg's insistence on filming on the high seas rather than a studio tank paid off, and the atmosphere and

the ocean become major players in the film.  Robert Shaw, Roy Scheider, and a young Richard Dreyfuss all give stellar and sympathetic performances.  Even though the movie relied on locals to round out much of the town's population, they actually pull their weight well.  And while the shark has gotten some ribbing over the years (sharks don't really have 'jaws'), when looked at as a model, it really isn't far off an actual Great White.  It was just the lack of information saturation that movie makers today would have that the model builders then weren't privy to.

Still, by the time the shark appears, it's lack of continual appearances keeps it menacing until the end.  The tension and stress of the movie keeps the audience alive, and just like other great films of the past - anything by Harryhausen, the original King Kong - most are able to mentally transfer the images and remember that this isn't really a shark, but it's a character in the movie.  Just like Shaw wasn't really a fisherman, or Dreyfuss a scientist, so the mechanical shark was an actor.  And what an actor it was.  Though modern CGI creatures have the benefit of unlimited access to any scholarship about any topic, and  of course the limitless bounds of CGI graphics, few have ever sustained the menace or the horror that 'Bruce' the shark managed off the coasts of Amity all those years ago.

Knowing the movie and its place in history and the quality of its production, it was inevitable that I'd want to see it with the boys.  Our oldest had seen it a couple years ago.  But our next two youngest hadn't seen it yet.  So last weekend, busy with Mothers Day and preparations for Confirmation this weekend and  Graduation next, we set aside any major plans, popped some corn and sat down to watch JAWS.  I was curious to see how my boys would react.  After all, in 1975, unless you were able to see Rated R movies, chances are you hadn't seen much in terms of blood and violence.  JAWS made some people leave the theaters because of the blood.  I remember my then teenage sister being utterly freaked out by the huge amounts of blood.  But this is 2014.  My boys grew up on a diet of PG-13 violence, and have actually seen some select rated R movies (or scenes from them, for instance battle scenes from Gladiator). Would this be old?  Would it be dated?  Would it be a bore?

When the movie was over, and Dreyfuss had tossed out his final quip, as the credits ran I looked and my eighth grader was literally clutching the arms of his chair.  My oldest, who had already seen it once, was shaking.  My ninth grader laid back as if exhausted.  So what did they think?  My soon to be confirmed eighth grader was first to speak, and he summed up something I've been think about since.  He said, "You got to like those guys.  You didn't want to see any of them killed.'   The others agreed.  Far from two dimensional fodder, you cared about them.  Almost half the movie was spent getting to know the main characters, and even though common sense said that at least one of them had to go, you didn't want it to be any of them.  But it wasn't just that.   It was intense.  How was it intense I asked.  Because it was, well, real.  They couldn't quite put their finger on it, but they said it wasn't just 'it was real because sharks are real.'  It was because the people didn't seem like today.

I pondered that and pressed on.  According to them, today many (not all, but many) characters are not overly sympathetic.  Bad guys are supposed to be bad and get what they have coming.  Good guys are good guys, usually because they represent PC values.  Characters aren't real.  They're like types.  They are either supposed to get what they have coming, or not.  And even though the gore and violence is more, it isn't the same.  They just couldn't but their finger on what made this 1975 movie so intense.

And yet, they've encountered that more than once.  Not that they don't enjoy movies and TV shows today,

but they have time and again admitted that, with few exceptions (Christopher Nolan being a consistent example), movies today lack something. They're not 'real.'  Yes, the acting quality in JAWS among the three leads is wonderful, and that helps.  But actors today are good.  Writers.  Directors.  What is it that so struck a nerve with my boys?  I'm not sure.  To quote Quint when asked if he'd seen a shark do this: I don't know.  But it's got me to thinking.  Thinking about the media pool in which our youngsters swim.  Maybe it's my boys.  Maybe others would just laugh and guffaw.  Maybe they would cheer whenever someone got taken down by the shark.  Part of me fears that might be true.  But I can't help but think it means something, and I'll be thinking about it over the months to come.

Maybe it's not fair to compare what many (or at least pre-internet many) consider one of the greatest movies of all time to the entire package today.   After all, there was more than one pile of lousy, superficial junk movies in 1975.  But for now, three men went into the water, two came out alive, and the reaction of my boys gave me something to ponder as I think of our culture, our society, and the world which we have given them as our oldest's graduation approaches.

And two days later

 

Often considered one of the seminal events of the 20th Century, The Beatles performed for the first time in the US on The Ed Sullivan Show.  I often wonder what my grandpa thought, since my mom says he was a huge Ed Sullivan fan, and never missed the show. 

By the time they arrived, they were already the number one act in America, per the American music charts.  No big deal today.  In 1964, however, before modern global tech, it was a huge deal.  Their appearance that night would net the largest television audience to date.  A full 40% of the US population tuned in that night (to put it in perspective, we would need a show with 132 million viewers to match it today).  

The next day, almost everything in pop culture and music changed.  The BBC once commented on the impact of The Beatles on a generation.  It was pointed out that something similar had happened in America after Pearl Harbor.  The next day after the attack, Americans by the thousands rushed out to join the military.  The day after their appearance on Ed Sullivan saw a spike in sales for not just records, but for musical instruments as well.  Record stores and music stores reported surges in sales over the following weeks.  And the hysteria didn't end in America or England, but swept across the world by the end of the year.  

And yet this was merely a smidgen of what was to come.  The exact reason for the Beatles' impact has never quite been pinpointed.  Historians, sociologists, psychologists and others have tried to figure it out over the decades.  Nobody has ever quite found the answer.  But as was pointed out on the anniversary of their Abbey Road album, it's impossible not so see the seismic shift in social and cultural trends in the years following the Beatles' global ascension.  And not just in music, but fashion, language, attitudes, film, you name it.  For better or worse, they made their mark in history far beyond the massive impact they had on the world of modern music. And in many ways it all began on Feb 9, 1964, with their appearance on Ed Sullivan.

Reporting after the event.

It was sixty years ago today

The Beatles taught the World to play.   Or at least arrived in America to do so.  This is the 60th anniversary of what many consider one of the landmark moments of the last century.   The Beatles arrived in America to play on the Ed Sullivan Show.  That performance, before a then record setting 40% of the US population, was a pivotal moment in not just American culture, but culture as a whole.  Within a year or so, the cultural landscape of America, England and much of the free world would begin to look very, very different.  For better or more likely worse. 

I mused on that in a series I did on Beatles albums here.  As I said, I am a fan of the Beatles' music.  But as a student of history, I have always been fascinated by the monstrously out of proportion influence they had on the direction of culture in general.  This doesn't include their unmatched impact on the world of music and the modern recording industry.  Their social influence is enough to be wondered at.  

It's also interesting to watch old interviews with them and compare it to the corporate media's round the clock infomercial approach to the latest corporate generated hysterics (yes, I'm thinking this year of Taylor Swift/NFL Corp.).  Note that the press certainly jumped on the Beatlemania train.  Yet they were not above trying to jab them or pull the rug out if they could.  The famous dig by a reporter at the airport, asking if they would get haircuts while in America (their hair being a catalyst for the youth rebellion to follow).  And, of course, George Harrison's response that 'he had one yesterday.'  Playful, but the press was willing to go after them if it could, even at the height of their fame.  Compare to today where most stories about the latest endorsed hysteria is like a marketing promoter or advertiser rather than a journalist.  A reminder at just how many things have changed over the years and sometimes we don't even realize it. 

Feb 7, 1964: From British to Global phenomenon

The Best Beatles Album Part 6

 Revolver - Released 8/5/1966

In April of 1966, riding the momentum of their trailblazing album Rubber Soul, the group moved once more into the studio to begin recording their next album.  George Martin said the thing he admired most about them was that they didn't rest on their laurels.  No matter how successful the previous album, they were prepared to leap forward and change everything around, and try anything new.  As they began working on this, Paul McCartney stated that, in May, he was floored by the release of the Beach Boys' celebrated album Pet Sounds.  Seeing them incorporate studio sophistication and innovation that made the Beatles seem almost dated by comparison, McCartney realized they would have to push and push fast to stay ahead of the changes they were inspiring across the music industry.  And it wasn't just the Beach Boys abandoning their surf and sun reputation to go full experimental.  Michell Cohen notes that "mid 1966 was the most vigorous period of pop expressionism and innovation in history."  Record stores abounded with a growing tidal wave of experimental and pioneering albums, such as Sunshine Superman, The Kink Kontroversy, Fifth Dimension (by the Byrds), and Daydream by the Lovin' Spoonful, to name just a handful.  McCartney, and to an extent the other three, felt to stay relevant they would need to shove the barriers out of the way and push the recording industry to the limits. As musicologist Wilfrid Mellers noted, this was the period when the Beatles moved the recording industry from merely being a means to an end, and made it an essential part of the artistic process of recorded music. And from there, by extension, they moved pop music into the realm of artform. 

Paul McCartney, notebook in hand, attends a music seminar at the Italian Institute

By now the high noon of Beatlemania had passed, and their decision to stop touring was largely made.  Their lack of growth as an organization left them behind in the touring world.  Playing stadiums, it was still them and a handful of friends and roadies who would put up and take down the equipment, or move stage equipment around when needed, or even carry their own luggage.  The sparce sound systems meant that, in most cases, the large venues were just noisy scream-fests with little music able to be heard.  At times their act looked no different than it did in the Cavern Club, where Brian Epstein first discovered them.  They were merely in front of tens of thousands of fans.  Plus, with albums like Revolver and Rubber Soul, it was clear they could no longer pretend to play their music on stage.  How does one play Yellow Submarine or Tomorrow Never Knows on stage in 1966?  Answer: you don't.  At the end of the day, the growing sophistication and professionalism of their records was making it impossible to maintain that original raw onstage energy from their earlier years.  They were eager to settle down and focus entirely on expanding the art of recorded music.  Revolver would demonstrate that like no other album to date. 

The most successful songwriting team of the 20th Century

"Although 'Eleanor Rigby' was far from the first pop song to deal with death and loneliness, according to music historian Ian MacDonald, it "came as quite a shock to pop listeners in 1966". It took a bleak message of depression and desolation, written by a famous pop group, with a sombre, almost funeral-like backing, to the number one spot of the pop charts."

For its part, Revolver is often called their best album because it is both the most Beatles-like and not Beatles-like album of their catalogue.  The aforementioned Tomorrow Never Knows marked the cusp of recording capabilities in late 1966.  Upon hearing a demo of it, Bob Dylan is reported to have said 'So you don't want to be cute anymore, huh?'  Snark aside, he saw that the Beatles were ready to move on.  And other offerings from the album demonstrate that fact.  Songs such as And Your Bird Can Sing, For No One or Good Day Sunshine sound more like the professional output of A list artists and professional songwriters and producers than anything the Beatles or any other rock musicians had produced by that point.  Likewise, beyond Tomorrow Never Knows, you had Yellow Submarine, the Indian inspired Love You To, and another celebrated orchestral tune, Eleanor Rigby.  The rest of the songs are equally strong, with the love balled Here, There and Everywhere easily competing with the best love ballads from the time.  It is also noteworthy that on this album, George Harrison was beginning to come into his own with three songs written by him.  Because of the maturity, the innovations, the quality and the professional output emanating from the music, I'm inclined to agree with those who say this, more than any other Beatles album, deserves to be named their best. 

Honorable Mention: Yellow Submarine (Soundtrack) -  Released 1/13/1969

This is a strange one.  If you include this album in the lists, then it is the one album produced by the Beatles that didn't go to #1.  Yet it really isn't a Beatles album.  At least not in the sense that their other albums were Beatles albums.  As stated earlier, by 1968 everyone - including the press - could see that the wheels were starting to come off the Beatles bus.  Ringo and George were already married, Jon was involved with Yoko, and Paul was beginning his relationship with Linda Eastman, later Linda McCartney.  Beyond all the other riffs and bickering, clearly they were beginning to feel the tug of domestic life and moving on.  As a result, the old energy and drive to keep the band going was fading.   Brian had died, and the music world was exploding with new acts and talent on an almost daily basis. Staying ahead of an ever growing pack isn't easy when other priorities are emerging. Hence1968 was the year when almost all of them began to realize the end was approaching.  Until the end of that year, Hey Jude was the only significant release from the group.  Except for this strange movie that was inspired by the second to last song on Side A of Revolver.  The song Yellow Submarine was a strange musical production that tapped into George Martin's haversack of resources from both classical and novelty recording.  It was inspired by a dream John had of a submarine chasing Ringo down the street.  Talks began about adapting it for an animated movie some time later.  The movie continued to draw on the psychedelia fad that by 1968 was all the rage.  In truth, the Beatles themselves had little to do with the film.  They didn't even provide the voices for their own animated characters.  A few songs, mostly songs already recorded but not yet released, were given to the soundtrack album.  Only a couple were written specifically for this project.   Much of the movie was filled with songs from previous albums that fit within the movie's 'storyline' - a bizarre brew involving blue meanies, snapping turtle Turks, the terrible flying glove, and the disturbingly drawn Mr. Boob, the Nowhere Man.  Despite its strangeness (or perhaps because of - it was 1968 after all), the movie was well received by both fans and critics.  Not a blockbuster or as successful as their first two films, it nonetheless helped - along with Hey Jude - to win back the good will they had somewhat squandered in previous months.  The movie's soundtrack album was released in January, 1969.   It went to #2 on the US album charts.  Again, most songs were either already released or merely thrown in from earlier work.  Side B was all orchestrations from the movie, no Beatles songs at all.  Many critics agreed that if anything should have been an EP, it was this.  It is also the only Beatles album I don't own. 

Afterword

The Quarrymen perform at the Woolton village fête, 7/6/1957

In 1993, the year I was married, the news reported that Ivan Vaughan had died of pneumonia.  Who was Ivan Vaughan?  He was a professor of psychology at Cambridge through the 1970s, until ill health forced him to retire.  Why did his passing make news?  Not from being a professor.  Not for retiring early due to health problems.  But because of something he did when he was fifteen years old.  

At fifteen, on July 6, 1957, Ivan Vaughan invited his sixteen year old friend James (Paul) McCartney to a village fête that was happening at nearby St. Peter's Church.  McCartney wasn't particularly interested, but Ivan persisted.  Finally McCartney agreed and accompanied him to the gathering, where a couple local musical acts were performing.  One act, called The Quarrymen, was fronted by a wavy haired teenager wearing a checked shirt and playing a cheap guitar.  His name was John Winston Lennon.  Being friends of both Paul and John, Ivan introduced the two. 

Paul was immediately taken by the fact that John had the drive to form his own band at that young age.  John was taken by the fact that Paul could not only play but, being the son of a professional musician, he could also tune a guitar.  In October of that year, after several meetings and performances together, John officially invited Paul to join the band.  The rest, as they say, is history.  And it's why a relatively obscure former professor who died of pneumonia made the international news almost 40 years after that seemingly insignificant event.   

Six Years: L: c. 1963, R: the last photo session with the four together, 8/22/1969

“I tell you, Larry, there is no other band, there will never be any band like them ever … They are the best, I say to you Larry, here in 1965, that the children of 2000 will be listening to the Beatles.  And I sincerely mean that.”  Brian Epstein

The Best Beatles Albums Part 5

 The Beatles (aka The White Album) - Released 11/28/1968

Hard to see, but it's there

After the sorry performance of the Magical Mystery Tour television special, and in light of their manager's death from a drug overdose, the Beatles and several other celebrities flew off to India to practice transcendental meditation under the tutelage of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. They had come across his teachings shortly after their Our World triumph.  The plan was for several months of meditation and learning Eastern ways.  In ten days, however, Ringo left for home, stating he didn't like the food.  McCartney left a month later.  Finally the other two returned amidst rumors that the Maharishi's intentions, at least where the women were concerned, were not altogether spiritual (Lennon's  Sexy Sadie was a thinly veiled swipe at the guru because of this). While in India, they were not only meditating, but they were also writing songs. Lots of songs.  And not just Lennon and McCartney, but also Harrison and even Ringo.  When they returned to the Abbey Road studios in May, 1968, they were ready to record almost all of the songs they wrote.  Enough songs for a double album set.  George Martin immediately protested.  Some of the songs were outstanding, and would make a strong - possibly their best - album (consider Harrison's While My Guitar Gently Weeps in that category). Others were everything from goofy to just garbage (I'm looking at you Wild Honey Pie).  Nonetheless, the four wouldn't budge.  It was all of them or nothing.  And that included a bit of avant-garde electronic sound experimentation (Revolution 9), courtesy of a new presence in the studio that was adding to the already tense atmosphere.  That presence was John's new love interest, artist Yoko Ono.  

As production continued, Martin turned into more of an executive producer, moving from studio to studio, overseeing the process as the individual Beatles worked on their own songs their own ways.  McCartney became increasingly bossy, chasing Ringo out for over a week.  George Harrison threatened to quit, growing tired of his limited allotment of songs per album.  And the Lennon-Ono team was pushing everyone, including staff, to the limits. Despite that atmosphere, they still managed to work forward.  They needed to.  After years of seeing at least two albums released in a year, 1968 was progressing without a Beatles album release.  The one bright spot musically speaking came with the release of Hey Jude.  It was a pure McCartney song written for Julian Lennon after his dad left Cynthia Lennon for Yoko Ono.  Their 16th #1 song in the US, it became their biggest hit single, and one of the biggest singles of all time.  Staying at #1 for almost two and a half months, it was also long.  Far longer than radio stations typically agreed to play.  Nevertheless, it broke records at the time and remains their most successful chart topper.  Still, an album was needed, and wanted by fans.  The Beatles was released on November 22, 1968, under their own newly formed Apple Corps record label.  Its blank appearance was a purposeful attempt to distance themselves from the excess of the Sgt. Pepper days and the oversaturation of psychedelia, which by now was commonplace among the cultural revolution.  The reception was mixed.  It did, as usual, go to number one on the album charts.  But critics complained that it was erratic, nonsensical, and at times downright amateurish.  Over the years, The White Album (as it came to be called for obvious reasons) became one of the essential Beatles albums to own, and considered one of the greatest albums ever.  This is not so much due to the quality of the music, however, even if some songs are among their best.  Rather it is seen that way because it shows not only the growing strains in The Beatles' much studied history, but also the distinct songwriting personalities of the four separate band members like no other album.  

Engineer Geoff Emerick with an increasingly independent McCartney

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - Released 5/26/1967

It was twenty years ago today ...

For years this was voted the greatest album of all time.  In later years, that title has shifted about, but most still consider this, if not the greatest, then undeniably the single most influential album of all time.  By August, 1966, it was clear that Beatlemania was passing its sell-by date.  An unintentional slight against the Marcos presidency in the Philippines led to the band being whisked out of the country in fear of their lives.  In  Japan, protests erupted as some politicians worked to ban the group from coming and corrupting their youth.  And in America, the backlash against John's statement about the popularity of Jesus vs. the Beatles sparked the famous 'Fantastic Beatles Boycott.'  Worse, however, though often unspoken, was another unexpected development.  Even as they were playing more and more in massive venues like sports stadiums, they were beginning to notice something they hadn't witnessed since achieving mega-stardom - empty seats.  Yes, they were still playing huge arenas, but a year earlier it was to mostly sell out crowds.  When they returned to Shea Stadium in 1966, over 11,000 tickets were left unsold.  Tired of the rigors of touring, the mounting controversies and scandals, and quite frankly seeing the writing on the wall and wanting to go out on top, they made an unprecedented decision for a musical act to make: They would stop touring.  After over three and a half years and almost 1400 concert performances, their appearance at San Francisco's Candlestick Park on August 29, 1966 was their last performance together on tour. 

For the next few months, they took their first significant break from each other.  When they returned in November, it was a new incarnation of the group.  Mustaches, goatees and beards were the norm, and Lennon was now sporting his 'granny-glasses', a prop from his part in the Richard Lester movie How I Won the War (and the basis for the picture of Lennon as a solider that graced the cover of the first issue of 'Rolling Stone' magazine).  Rebounding from rumors that they had broken up, and buoyed by the stunning level of positive feedback from their album Revolver, they wanted to keep pushing the limits of the industry.  They saw, as with Revolver, that no matter how far ahead they were, the rest of the industry was quick to catch up.  They decided to work on a concept album about their childhood.  But the studio number crunchers made the first two songs recorded be hastily put together and released as a single to fill the void left during their break.  That single, released as two A Sides, featured the songs Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields Forever.  Considered one of the strongest singles ever produced, it also saw the production of the first 'self-contained conceptual promotional films' meant solely to promote the songs' releases.  That is, the first official music videos meant to compensate for their lack of touring.  Ironically, because the two songs were both released as A-Sides in the UK, they worked against each other and failed to overcome Engelbert Humperdinck's Please Release Me. They stalled out at #2, making headlines as the first single by the Beatles since 1963 to fail to make number one on the UK charts (in the US, Penny Lane did manage to make it to #1, their 13th in the US). 

 The first official stand alone conceptual music video

Returning to the studio, they turned their attention to building on everything they had learned up to the Revolver recording sessions. In addition to their basic drive to stay ahead, their imaginations were spurred on by an increase in recreational drug use. It was here that the recording engineers, especially recording engineer Geoff Emerick, working alongside George Martin, would establish the modern recording studio as we know it.  The most complex and state of the art recording process belonged to Lennon's Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite, a song inspired by an old Victorian circus poster he owned.  But other tricks and studio wand waving emerged with the evolution of each song.  The album was becoming for recording technology what Disney's Fantasia was for animated film. None other than the London Symphony Orchestra found itself playing background on the recordings, especially the album's climactic finale, A Day in the Life.  Soon the production as a whole, including the album contents themselves, took on a life of their own.  Four years earlier, even heavy hitters like Sinatra or Elvis would only take a few weeks to record an album.  Sometimes it was a one day affair.  The Sgt. Pepper sessions lasted almost seven months.  And that was with almost around the clock work schedules.  The legendary cover photo tapped into the emerging psychedelia movement and helped push that movement into the mainstream.  As the primary driver behind the project, it was Paul who conceived of the 'Sgt. Pepper' bookends that give the impression of a concept album.  He admitted that Pepper was, in many ways, their much needed answer to Pet Sounds.  Released on May 26, 1967, Sgt. Pepper quickly became the biggest selling non-soundtrack album to date (it remains the biggest selling album in the UK).  It immediately connected to the Summer of Love, and helped define the entire counter culture revolution from that point on.  No singles were released, as the idea was to present it as a cohesive whole; to make it a singular work of art.  The idea worked, and its success led the music industry to shift from a singles based marketing model to one centered around the album.  It seemed as if everything - music, fashion, attitudes, graphic art, pop culture, the music industry itself - changed with the release of Sgt. Pepper.  For their efforts, the Beatles became the first rock musicians to win a Grammy Award for best album.  It put them straight back on top of the entertainment world.     

As George Martin looks on, Paul McCartney conducts a French horn section from the LSO

On June 25, Our World aired. It was the first live global television broadcast before an audience estimated at around half a billion.  Multiple countries provided various individuals to represent them.  England chose the Beatles, and they headlined the entire broadcast, quickly throwing together the song All You Need is Love for the occasion.  Tying that song to the summer already invigorated by the release of their signature album, the Beatles were, as the Monkees' song Randy Scouse Git described, 'the Four kings of EMI sitting stately on the floor.'  It was the pinnacle of their success and influence on both the music industry, as well as world culture at large.  And it marked the beginning of the end.  

"The song [Sgt. Pepper intro], along with the album as a whole, gave other musicians new ideas and new attitudes to the approach of music. The production of the record set new standards in expertise and innovation. It may not be too far-fetched to say that much of popular music in the half-century after 1967 has come under the influence of The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band." Martin Chilton, Editor and Author

"Everyone I knew who was involved in popular music spent weeks and weeks listening and relistening and discussing [Stg. Pepper], and everyone at that point considered it a major event." Milron Okun, Producer/Arranger

"Sgt. Pepper, for its time, captured a moment in popular music that will probably never be repeated in quite that way, in the sense that it was an artistic statement in a music that was never regarded as art before." Lenny Kaye, musician  

Our World - The Rolling Stones' Mick Jagger sits on the floor next to Harrison

The Best Beatles Albums Part 4

 Please Please Me - Released 3/22/1963

This was their first album, their first number one album, and one of the turning points of the modern musical era.  But it wasn't a sure thing.  Contrary to popular myth, the famous audition of the Beatles, when producer George Martin read them the riot act about their limited quality, and Harrison joked about his tie, wasn't really an audition.  Beatles manager Brian Epstein had already secured a tentative record contract a couple months earlier, following his initial meeting with Martin on Feb 13, 1962.  At the time of their first meeting, Martin produced for Parlophone, a subsidiary of EMI Records.  His main focus was on classical music, as well as novelty and comedy songs (he worked with such luminaries as Peter Sellers, Spike Mulligan and Peter Ustinov). For that first recording session on June 6, Martin, who was looking to move into the mainstream, was just seeing what they were made of and who could do what.  It was then that Martin concluded drummer Pete Best wasn't good enough for the recording studio.  That led to the band firing him and replacing him with drummer Richard Starkey - better known throughout the Liverpool music scene as Ringo Starr.  But Martin was still hesitant.  There was pushback from EMI's higher ups about the band's name.  They believed the act should have a front man for the audience to connect to:  John Lennon and the Beatles.  Paul McCartney and the Beatles.  That was typically how it was done.  But Martin was convinced the idea of just 'four lads having fun' would connect, with each being his own personality.  On the other side, however, he wasn't happy with their push to write their own songs.  He felt the standard procedure of having professional song writers write specifically for them would do the trick if they wanted to be more than a novelty rock and roll act.  Or at least let a pro writer help in the composition.  Lennon and McCartney had written over 100 songs together by that time, and felt at least some were worthy of consideration.  Martin listened to most of those, but felt they were lacking at best.  Nonetheless, he trusted them enough to record their first single, written by them, named Love Me Do.  Released on October 5, 1962, it made it to #17 on the UK charts.  No bad, but it wasn't enough to inspire confidence.  Martin went back to the suggestion of professional song writers.  John and Paul requested another chance.  They wanted to record a love ballad they wrote called Please Please Me.  Martin had already heard it, and told them it wasn't that good.  But this time they put it to a more upbeat, fast paced tempo, per Martin's suggestion.  They played a demo for him of this revised version.  According to those who were there, when the song was done, Martin pointed to them and said 'you have your first hit.'  The song went to #2, and that was enough to warrant a full length LP.  Primary recording for the album took place over one day.  By the end of the day, they had to do extra takes of Twist and Shout because Lennon's voice was in tatters.  They actually had to break and send him to the cafeteria to get milk of magnesia and cough syrup to loosen his vocal chords.  Hence the raspiness of his singing on that song. Released on March 22, 1963, the Please Please Me album quickly went to #1 on the charts, their first of many. A year later, it would produce two #1 hits, a top 5 hit, two top 10 hits and one top 20 hit on the US charts. That's more than an impressive amount of chart toppers from one album. In the meantime, the amazing number of professional sounding music from the songwriting partnership of two amateur, untrained young men immediately caught the UK music world's attention. Beatlemania had begun.  

There would be one more change in the lineup before they hit it big

The song that really started it all

Rubber Soul - Released 12/3/1965

Sgt. Pepper, Abbey Road, Revolver, even The White Album, are usually named their best, their greatest, their landmark albums.  But the first sweeping break from their previous sound, and clear evidence that the four were quickly outgrowing their Mop Top image, was Rubber Soul.  Rumor has it that the name was taken from the tendency that black musicians had of disparaging the Rolling Stones, saying they had 'plastic soul.'  Rubber Soul being a dig at their friendly rivals, and in some ways saying they themselves were not much better.  Just the playful ambiguity of the title showed something new was happening.  And it was.  By the time of its release in late 1965, the British Invasion was in full swing and dominating the American music charts. More than just a doorway for British musical acts, the British invasion toppled the near monopoly on global cultural output that the United States had enjoyed since the end of WWII.  In addition, the fruits of the emerging counter-culture were already beginning to show.  Controversy raged when the Queen of England presented each of the Beatles with MBEs (Member of the British Empire).  Some believed the awards were appropriate because they saw the Beatles as national heroes.  Others were not amused, and some even threatened to return theirs in protest.  But 1965 had seen the Beatles take Rock and Roll and move it for the first time to the stadium level.  No longer confined to auditoriums and state fairs, Rock and Roll was quickly becoming the default soundtrack for the last half of the century.  And the Beatles were in the driver's seat.  Though the movie Help! was fairly well received, and the music from the soundtrack album successful as always (it produced three number one hits: Ticket to Ride, Help!, and the barrier breaking Yesterday), the Beatles were itching to expand and grow.  The emergence of groups like The Rolling Stones, The Who, The Mammas and the Pappas, and Jefferson Airplane, to name only a few, showed that the dominance the Beatles enjoyed in this musical revolution was gaining membership.  And the four were keen on staying ahead of the pack.  George Martin's use of strings on Yesterday opened a massive door in the world of contemporary music, and Rubber Soul witnessed more new and exotic instruments entering the studio.  From Baroque piano to more classical instruments to the Indian sitar - brought by George Harrison as his interest in Indian culture and religion grew - an emerging attitude of 'anything if it works' broadened the limits of the genre.  In addition, the increasing demand the Beatles had for new sounds began pushing the limits of recording technology available in those days.  It was here that George Martin and the EMI recording staff became essential for the Beatles' artistic and creative development.  As an album, Rubber Soul had a quieter, more adult sound to it.  The songs themselves were a signification departure from the standard Beatles fare: Some were classical love ballads, others experimental (Norwegian Wood), and Lennon was beginning to branch out and write more introspective and meaningful songs with In My Life and Nowhere Man.  Though other albums get the attention, many fans at that time admit that when Rubber Soul was released, it was like a hit in the face.  Was this the Beatles?  Something big had happened in the music world, and things were about to change. 

As they pushed the boundaries of popular music, their producer
George Martin (center, standing) quickly became the 'Fifth Beatle'

Abbey Road - Released 9/26/1969

The most famous crosswalk on the planet

The entire Abbey Road project was merely salvaging their reputation after the Get Back fiasco.  McCartney looked at what happened over the previous couple years and realized the Beatles were being left behind.  They may have taught the music world how to play, but their students were quickly overtaking the masters.  He desperately didn't want the less than positively embraced White Album to be their last release.  Get Back, at that point, had been shelved indefinitely.   He called up George Martin, who was prepared to move on after the debacle of the Get Back project, and asked if he would produce again.  Martin said only if he's allowed to actually produce and be in the driver's seat, like the old days.  John was still hesitant, and the album was a compromise.  For Lennon, who was tired of the emphasis on endless studio production, Side A would have a set of individual songs, no tricks or fancies.  For Side B, featuring a strung out medley of multiple short songs and song ideas, McCartney would be able to produce to his heart's content.  The noteworthy part of the whole thing is that it was George Harrison, long the bridesmaid of the band's songwriters, who provided the most successful singles from the album.  Here Comes the Sun has emerged in recent years as one of the Beatles' most successful and recognizable songs.  And Something (released as a Side A alongside Come Together, also released as a Side A) went to #1 and was named by none other than Frank Sinatra as one of the most beautiful love songs he ever heard.  Upon release, Abbey Road was widely praised, though with restraint.  A technically fine album, perhaps their best overall, some great songs, some fun Beatles tricks.  But merely one of many great albums being released by that time.  It healed the wounds of previous years and brought back respect on a level they hadn't seen since Sgt. Pepper.  It also reminded everyone that what was being done in the world of music by 1969 was, as often as not, first done by them.  But that was the extent of its influence.  As Harrison said, they knew by then it was over, that this was their swansong.  And so it was.  Even the album's final official song title illustrated the fact: The End.  When they left the room on August 20, 1969, after working on overdubs for Lennon's I Want You (She's So Heavy), it was the last time the four would be in a recording studio together. 

By the late 60s, they knew the end was getting near

The Best Beatles Albums Part 3

 Help! -  Released 8/6/1965

Not a real semaphore code

Some have argued this is their first real concept album.  Contrary to popular belief, the Beatles did not pioneer the idea of a concept album with Sgt. Pepper.  That credit usually goes to Frank Sinatra for his semi-autobiographical album Sinatra: A Man and His Music.  But even for the Beatles, you see hints of the idea in this album.  The soundtrack for their second movie Help!, it consisted of songs from the movie on Side A, and others on Side B for filler.  Though not technically a concept album, all of the songs have something negative to say about relationships.  Gone are the positive 'She Loves You' or 'From Me to You.'  The songs are about breakups, losses, and unrequited love. Even at the height of their success, it was obvious they wanted to push themselves into new territory.  By now they had crushed attendance records by playing in New York City's Shea Stadium.  It was an event that said Rock and Roll wasn't just here to stay, but it was becoming the default societal soundtrack for the foreseeable future.  It stood to reason that this new era of rock and roll would need to be more than ritualistic dance music.  

As an album, Help! is also noteworthy for two other reasons.  It was the last album by the Beatles to feature cover songs from other artists.  And it contained the song Yesterday.  The most copyrighted song in history, Yesterday shattered musical genre barriers of the day.  Even by 1966, the music industry continued along with certain well defined assumptions.  Rock was this, mainline pop was that, classical was over there, folk music and polka and country and anything else belonged where they belonged.  Recording procedures, instruments and musical styles were assumed to stay put.  But when McCartney approached George Martin with a tune he plucked out to the lyrics 'Scrambled Eggs', Martin suggested it sounded wonderful, but not the Beatles.  He said it brought to his ears a string quartet.  McCartney resisted, saying he wasn't going to do 'some Mantovani rubbish.' But Martin insisted.  Finally Martin won out, and he - along with contributions from McCartney - wrote a score for a string quartet, backing McCartney alone with vocals and an acoustic guitar.  One of their most successful songs, and one of the most barrier breaking songs of the rock era.  

And therein lies the difference.  Over the years, fans of other artists who wrote their own songs and predated the Beatles have objected to the focus on the Lennon-McCartney songwriting team as some revolutionary development in modern music.  But the point isn't only that they wrote their own songs. It's that they wrote in a way that defied contemporary standards.  They did not seek this or that sub-sound of the fad called rock and roll - bubble gum, doowop, country blues, surf and sun.  They crafted a unique blend that sought to emulate the professional songwriting output of mainline artists, while consistently merging their myriad influences and inspirations into a broad yet unique style all their own.  A bit like Orson Welles and Citizen Kane.  Welles didn't invent much in that movie, but he took everything the film world knew at that time and combined it in a unique and visionary way.  That was the Beatles.  What they didn't invent - and they did invent much - they used in ways that hadn't been seen or heard up to that point.  And they did it without ever falling into the trap of a singular, identifiable musical style.  As an article I read on the anniversary of their Abbey Road album observed, without the Beatles you don't have what followed.  Without a single group able to write and produce songs as diverse as Yesterday, And I Love Her, Helter Skelter, I Am the Walrus, When I'm Sixty-Four, Yellow Submarine, I Want to Hold Your Hand, and Revolution, you don't have an genre of music that can include The Who, Led Zeppelin, Celine Dion, Elton John, Madonna, Matchbox Twenty, Michael Jackson, AC/DC and yes, Taylor Swift.  

8/15/1965: Greeting a record setting crowd of 55,600 fans

A Hard Days Night - Released 7/10/1964

As stated above, no recording artists have ever dominated the music world the way the Beatles did in 1964.  It was simply their year.  Their appearance on Ed Sullivan in February before almost half the population of America is considered one of the landmark events of the century.  They ushered in The British Invasion, and more broadly helped kick the emerging countercultural revolution into the mainstream.  In terms of the charts, they owned the charts in a way never seen before or since. The American music industry has never seen such a spectacular rise like it witnessed in 1964. At one point over 10% of the songs on the American charts were by the Beatles.  By the spring of that year, they had placed seven songs in the US Top 10 - at the same time. And the most celebrated record in the history of Billboard happened when Can't Buy Me Love jumped to the #1 spot on April 4, allowing the Beatles to clench all five of the top five spots on the American charts:  

Beyond that, they held the number one spot in the US for almost half the year, and placed three consecutive songs (I Want to Hold Your Hand, She Loves You, Can't Buy Me Love) at number one for almost four straight months in a row.  By the end of the year they had placed seven albums at the number one spot on the US album charts.* Their first world tour marked the high point of full blown Beatlemania.  In 1965, during their second world tour, stadiums and arenas became commonplace, and some of their audiences dwarfed what they experienced in 1964.  But it was 1964 that people remember when they remember Beatlemania in all its spectacle. If the audiences were smaller than the next year, it was here that thousands would show up along the road, merely to watch the band drive from the airport to their hotel or enter a restaurant. 

In the midst of this, their manager Brian Epstein secured a movie deal to produce movies for the Beatles, in a way inspired by Elvis.  Their first film, and their best, was a mocked up documentary, a sort of 'faux day in the life of the Beatles.'  Part scripted, part improv, a touch of tripped out British humor and lots of irreverence, the American Film Institute named it one of the top 100 films of all time.  Naturally it was extremely successful.  But it was the soundtrack album that marked a leap forward for the Beatles, and the music industry as a whole.  One of the early fights the band had was to write their own songs.  In those days, thick lines existed within the industry.  Unionized writers write the songs, the musicians and singers perform them.  Folk musicians and pro songwriters could do their own material.  Even rock musicians, when rock and roll was still considered a passing fad, could write their own material. But mainline A-List artists couldn't be trusted to write songs that could achieve their needed level of commercial success.  At least not trusted to write them without outside help.  But the Beatles fought and fought and fought to do so.  That is why it is considered a milestone that the soundtrack to A Hard Day's Night is filled with songs written solely by the team of Lennon-McCartney.  To begin with, you had two songs from the album reach #1 (the aforementioned Can't By Me Love and the title track A Hard Day's Night).  In addition, music critics were astonished by the maturity and sophistication of three of the group's ballads - And I Love Her, If I Fell and Things We Said Today.   Critics who withheld high praise at first began to reconsider, given not only the success of the songs and the album, but the quality and refined maturity as well.    

The movie captured the 'four buddies versus the world' image that helped propel them to superstardom

*This was possible because the Beatles typically released albums with 12 to 14 songs.  In the US, albums released by Capital often had no more than 8 or 9 songs.  This allowed Capital Records in the US to split up Beatles albums and release two from the one album released in England.  This was a practice not unique to the Beatles, but one they resented.  Part of their development of the album emphasis was meant to keep Capital from this practice.