by Kirk Woodward
[My
friend Kirk Woodward is back again with another contribution to ROT—his latest installment of his ad hoc series on the Beatles and their hold on him
over the years. Those of you who weren’t
around in the ’60s or were still too young in the second half of that decade to
have experienced the arrival and surge in popularity of the Beatles can only
have a second-hand understanding of what that group and their musical and
social influence meant to on my generation. I
was a huge Beatles fan myself, buying their 45’s and LP’s as soon as they hit
the record stores (no downloading in those days!). I even became aware of them a little before
the earth-shaking début on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1964 that introduced them to America because I was in high school
in Europe and, many of my classmates being British, I started hearing the
Beatles as soon as they came out in England.
I was listening to them on the radio—we listened to Radio Luxembourg,
the pirate station European teens tuned to for the hottest in rock ’n’ roll—and on record players in my dorm. But I
just listened (and, of course, memorized the lyrics virtually by osmosis);
Kirk, being musically knowledgeable even then, took his devotion to the Fab
Four a step further and listened to the music and musicianship. As for his late wife, Pat, whose diary about
her commitment to Beatle fandom . . . well, dedicated ROTters will have learned about that 2½ years
ago.
[“The
Beatles’ Influence,” then, is Kirk’s analysis and discussion of that pervasive
influence, not just on the generation of fans and musicians that came of age in
the late ’60s, but the ones that came after.
Kirk contends, with solid reason, that we are still feeling that
influence 46 years after the group broke up.
John and George are gone now, Ringo’s a different kind of star in his
own right, and Paul had moved into new areas of music—but the Beatles of our
imaginations hangs in there. The
greatest rock band ever! (Think I’m a
generational chauvinist? What can I
say!)
When
this blog posted the Beatle diary written by my late wife Pat (see “The Beatles Diary,” 8 January 2013), a
friend took note of a sentence I’d written to the effect that the Beatles had
changed Pat’s life. Exactly how, he asked, had that happened, or might I be
exaggerating their effect on her?
I
wrote back:
I think [the Beatles] opened her up to the
fact that the world offers more possibilities than we might realize. Her family
was basically poor, the one artistic influence in her family (her father was a
jazz pianist) was often traveling, and she went to traditional Catholic schools.
The Beatles pretty much blasted this background all over the place.
I was in England a few years later on one of
Lee Kahn’s theater trips [Lee was my theater teacher and mentor] and heard a
number of London theater people say how much the Beatles had opened everything
up for them, both in terms of art and of class. I think the[ir and Pat’s]
situations were probably parallel.
Although she didn’t remain fanatical about
the Beatles as such, I know she never forgot about the possibilities of
surprise that art can provide. I’m putting that in a pretentious way, but I
just mean that her experience of encountering the Beatles meant that at any
time, something wonderful could happen.
I’ve
written extensively about the Beatles for this blog (aside from the diary, see
also “The Beatles and Me,” 7 October
2010, and “The Beatles Box,” 30 September 2012), and I’m not sure I haven’t
already said all I have to say about them, but it might be useful to write specifically
about their influence on others – only the subject is so vast that nothing
short of a book could adequately cover it. So I’ll try to present what for me
are some of the high points of their impact, keeping always in mind that there’s
much more to say about each aspect, and that many others have covered the same
territory in more detail.
It
strikes me that the discussion should have two parts: the effects of the
Beatles on Pat, and their effects on all of us. A further qualification: this
article is about their influence, not their art, although one can hardly leave
their remarkable artistic achievements out of the discussion – the two are
closely linked.
If
we look at the Beatles the way they must have first appeared to Pat,
particularly as their first two albums became available in the United States
(early 1964), it seems likely that two things impressed her. One was their
clean, straightforward sound – lead guitar, rhythm guitar, bass, drums, and mostly
unretouched vocals. Compared to their competition, their first records were
remarkably simple. (One record company had turned them down with the comment
that three-guitar groups were “out,” which illustrates the industry’s faith in
more elaborate production at that time.)
In
a way, the Beatles’ sound was home-grown – one of its major sources was the “skiffle”
craze in England in the 1950s, which used household implements like washboards
and tea chest basses as musical instruments. While the Beatles were not
themselves a skiffle group, they kept the skiffle spirit, in particular the
idea that art could spring up in unlikely places and use unlikely materials.
The
Beatles’ music was also home-grown in the sense that from the beginning they wrote
and recorded their own songs, in addition to recording songs written by others.
The message, which took a while to sink in, was that art wasn’t a possession of
the elite – anyone could create it. Not all singers and groups started
recording their own material right away, of course; but the next wave of leaders
did, including the Rolling Stones and the Who.
Am
I going too far to talk about “art” when their realm was entertainment? I would
say no – art is where you find it, and it quickly became apparent that although
the Beatles themselves refused to claim any significance for their music, it
had plenty. And they were not “certified” artists, either – no one had given
them an artistic license! They did the work themselves. It began to look like
anyone could do the same, if they were able.
The
other thing that would have impressed Pat was the Beatles’ personalities, which
quickly began to manifest themselves. They were only a few years older than Pat
was, and they sounded young – again, unlike many older and/or more packaged
entertainers. They also sounded unique at that time because they were not only
British, but from Liverpool, with its own characteristic working class accent. And
they were cheerful – not that other entertainers were not, but there was
nothing lugubrious about them at all, unlike, to pick a radically opposite
example, Johnny Ray (1927-1990) and his hit song “The Little White Cloud That
Cried” (1951). The Beatles liked Johnny Ray, but nothing they recorded ever
sounded remotely like him.
The
fact that the Beatles freely shared their personalities made it possible for
others to do the same. Now, of course, we probably know more about celebrities
than we wish we did.
Not
only were the Beatles cheerful – it quickly became apparent that they were
downright funny – and occasionally downright outrageous – particularly, in the
early days, at their press conferences. It became not only permissible for
performers to say humorous things, it became almost mandatory. A documented
example of this is that after John Lennon made his famous quip at the Royal
Variety Show in London on November 4, 1963 (“In the cheaper seats, you clap
your hands. The rest of you, just rattle your jewelry”), it was noted in
following years that rock groups felt they had to try to equal or top John’s
remark, and tried to.
The
Beatles also stood up for their work. They didn’t care what people said about
their hair, but they didn’t tolerate foolishness about their music. (When the
press quoted a dismissive remark Noel Coward was said to have made about them,
they refused to meet with him, finally sending a reluctant Paul McCartney out for
a perfunctory chat.) Practically by force of will, they earned a respect for
rock music that had not previously existed, and that continues to this day.
The
Beatles’ collective and individual sense of humor is well known. In one sense
humor is a surprising clash of attitudes, and I think that the Beatles’ humor
may have had something to do with the extraordinary relationship they had with
their audiences. No matter how pleased the group’s members might have seemed
with the applause and even the screams they received, all of them – even Paul
McCartney, the most outgoing on stage of the four – seemed to be holding
something back, some reserved opinion, some secret observation. I’ve always
felt that the crowds screamed at them to get their full attention – sensing all
the while that they couldn’t, that the Beatles would never entirely give
themselves away.
One
additional thought about why the Beatles would have influenced Pat’s early
life: I am certain that they pointed her toward her life’s work, which was
performance, and in particular theater. They had complex and powerful rapport
with audiences. Their performances were literally theatrical – to quote some synonyms from Merriam-Webster, “amazing,
astonishing, awesome, eye-opening, fabulous, marvelous, surprising, wonderful.”
Whether they did or didn’t seem that way to everyone, they did to Pat, and if
their work could have that effect on her, why couldn’t her work have that
effect on others? So she made that her own goal, and others felt the same way,
as is clear from the remarks by London theater people that I cited above.
I
admit that the way I’ve described how Pat might have felt about the Beatles in
their first days is also the way I felt. Still, I’m guessing. (I wish I could ask her.) When we move on to
the influence of the Beatles on everybody,
we’re on surer ground, because there’s no question that their impact has been
immense, as demonstrated for example by the shelves of books that have been
written about them. It’s hard to find anything new to say about them, but at
least I can synthesize. . .
.
. . because the Beatles in many ways were synthesizers themselves. Bernard Shaw
used to stress that pioneers are not the ones who gain fame and fortune; those
belong to their followers, who build on what the pioneers have created. William
Shakespeare, for example, didn’t pioneer blank-verse drama; he took it and made
something vibrant out of it. Only
occasionally did the Beatles do something that no one else had done before;
often, though, they did it conclusively, with great effect on others.
They
didn’t invent rock, but they constantly acknowledged their influences, in
particular black artists. Chuck Berry, for example, commented on getting a nice
little bulge in his royalty checks after the Beatles’ recording of “Roll Over
Beethoven” (1956 by Berry; 1963 by the Beatles)! They incorporated musical
sounds that had originated in the American black community, and didn’t try to “sound
black” while singing them, but they made their admiration of artists like
Berry, Little Richard (“Long Tall Sally,”
1956), and Smokey Robinson (“You Really Got a Hold On Me,” 1962) clear, and
this in itself increased awareness for those artists and others.
The
Beatles rethought rock, revitalized it, and built on it, applying their own
high standards of excellence. As a result rock became a respected and admired
musical genre, a trend that picked up speed in the 1970s. The Beatles
specialized in learning and performing versions of “B” sides (the more obscure
songs that accompanied hits on 45 RPM records), which helped expand the rock repertoire.
They didn’t invent the star (or Starr) drummer, since Gene Krupa (1909-1973)
and Chick Webb (1905-1939), among others, had held that seat before, but after
Ringo the drummer would seldom be an invisible member of a rock band.
They
didn’t invent Indian, electronic, or country music, needless to say, but they
incorporated all three in their work and created enormous interest and even
popularity for them, influencing other groups (an important example being the
Byrds), at the same time affirming the values of differing kinds of music. They
didn’t invent “art rock” either, but they quickly grasped the importance of Bob
Dylan’s approach to songwriting and incorporated their own version of his
approach into their music and in particular into their lyrics, beginning with
their song “I’m a Loser” (1964). They weren’t the first to write popular songs
that weren’t love songs and weren’t for dancing – it’s unlikely that anybody
would dance or cuddle to “I Am the Walrus” (1967) - but they were the first to
win a huge audience over to those possibilities.
Obviously,
there are some areas in which the Beatles simply did things first, beyond items
like dominating the Top Ten listings for months. For example, they pioneered
stadium shows with the famous first Shea Stadium concert (August 1965), and
stadium shows remain a staple of rock performances. They were the first to use
a sitar on a popular record, the first rock group to record a song with a
background of strings alone, the first in England to bring the bass line to
prominence in the sound balance of a recording, the first to record a song with
no ending (“I Want You/She’s So Heavy,” 1969).
Technically,
too, the musical influence of the Beatles was enormous. They – meaning the Beatles, their producer
George Martin, and the engineers that worked with them – used tape loops,
deliberately recorded feedback, overdubbing and “flanging” (John invented the
word – officially called Artificial Double Tracking or ADT, the process of
double-tracking vocals without the singer having to repeat the song),
distortion effects, ad libs and chatter, randomly recorded sounds, and unique
ways of using a microphone, all of which are now commonplaces in recordings.
In
their records they included influences as varied as old musicals (“Till There
Was You,” 1963; from The Music Man,
1957 ), references to old movies (“Honey Pie,” 1968), and old blues (“Matchbox,”
1964; from Carl Perkins, 1956, and previously, Ma Rainey, 1924), all the way to
the aural landscapes of Karlheinz Stockhausen (“Revolution 9,” 1968). They made
or achieved the first substantial popularity for music videos (later the basis
for MTV), the “concept album” (1967’s Sergeant
Pepper was quickly followed by the Moody Blues’ Days of Future Past and by The
Who Sell Out, both 1967), and the
rock suite (the “long medley” at the end of Abbey
Road, 1969, an inspiration in particular for Pete Townshend with Tommy, 1969, and Quadrophenia, 1973).
They
were the first rock group to have its own record label, Apple, founded
by in 1968 (which led to plenty of problems, but others subsequently made the concept work, and individual labels are now commonplace), the first to print
their lyrics on an album cover (for Sergeant
Pepper), and participants – and major attractions – in the first global
satellite broadcast (June 1967).
The
list I have just made is by no means exhaustive. The social influence of the
Beatles was equally powerful. I have already noted that their insistence on “being
themselves” led to a greater exposure of the personal lives of performers –
whether this was a positive effect or not.
John Lennon led the way for performers to express both their political
and their religious opinions; he was in the forefront of opposition to the
Vietnam War, and his comment that the Beatles were “more popular than Jesus”
had huge reverberations. Slightly less so, the group’s interest in
Transcendental Meditation, and George Harrison’s espousal of Hinduism, opened
the door to Asian religious practices for many. I have already suggested that
the Beatles had a significant influence on theater.
The
Beatles also had a huge impact on class systems – most importantly perhaps in
Great Britain, which suddenly saw people on the lower social rungs mounting
extraordinarily high. That leveling effect reached the United States too – in
fact it was felt around the world, wherever a youthful population was
interested in changing the social order. In the old Soviet Union, for example, young
people bootlegged and passed around the Beatles’ records as a sort of sound
track for the drive for freedom, as proven years later by Paul McCartney’s
giant concert in Moscow’s Red Square (October 28, 1991), with members of the
crowd waving their once forbidden copies of the Beatles’ songs.
It’s
interesting to speculate how different the Beatles’ impact would have been if
they had had different personalities. I
by no means idolize John, Paul, George, and Ringo, but they brought some
important personal characteristics to the table. For starters, they had
integrity. The composer and bass player Paul Guzzone notes that when the
Beatles hit it big, they had already signed up for appearances at various
bazaars and church basement socials across England. They kept those
engagements! They could have wiggled out of them, but having made the
obligations, they lived up to them.
The
Beatles also set an example for hard work, one of course not always followed by
other musicians, but one that surely must be counted as a positive influence.
To read The Complete Beatles Recording
Sessions by Marc Lewisohn (Hamlyn, 1988) is to be overwhelmed by how
diligently – not to say successfully – they put in the long hours creating
their music. (Along the way, for better or worse, they also pioneered the
all-night recording session.)
The
Beatles were also extraordinarily collegial. The story of their support for the
Rolling Stones (frequently referred to in the press as their rivals) has often
been told; they wrote the Stones’ second single (“I Wanna Be Your Man,” 1963;
covered later the same month by the Beatles), and Paul McCartney has reported that
the two groups coordinated the releases of their records. I was astonished to
read in the autobiography of Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees that they and the
Beatles were friends. The Monkees had been deliberately created as an attempt
to cut into a share of the Beatles’ market. This didn’t matter at all to the
Beatles. Their support of and respect for other musicians was consistent.
It
may seem odd that in this piece I haven’t stressed the influence of the Beatles
on the era we call the Sixties (which actually reached its fruition in the 1970’s,
after the Beatles had broken up as a group). They did influence that period of time,
of course, and they were influenced by it, but both interactions in my opinion have
been overemphasized. The Sixties didn’t
create the Beatles, any more than the Eighteenth Century “created” Mozart. There
were reciprocal influences, but great artists transcend their eras; they take what
their times offer and transform it. We don’t treasure the Beatles only because
they represent the Sixties to us – or if we do, we’re missing a great deal of
what they offer. We treasure the Beatles because they took an enjoyable kind of
entertainment and created amazing art out of it.
Topic
of discussion: what would our lives be like if the Beatles had not existed?
Obviously that question can be the subject of endless speculation. Some of the
factors I’ve listed above would almost certainly have developed with or without
the Beatles; recording techniques, for example, would not have stood still as
technology grew in sophistication. Culture, like nature, abhors a vacuum; where
there were gaps, something would have filled them. Still, one answer to the question
“Where would we be without the Beatles” is, it seems clear to me, is: much
poorer.
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