I’m gonna say something that will offend many of you, but I don’t care.
The Beatles are vastly overrated!
Alexa was playing Beatles music at lunch and I casually mentioned that they are overrated. My crazy Wiccan coworker was incensed.
“Those are words that are never used in my house,” she boomed.
Look, I’m sorry if the truth hurts. The Beatles may have been a cultural phenomenon back in their day, but musically, they are mediocre at best.
Seriously. Their harmonies aren’t that tight. John can barely sing. Paul was a little better, but only a little. Ringo was a boring, unimaginative drummer. George was probably the best musician of them all, but I would categorize his guitar playing as only pretty good.
They were kind of in their element in the early years when they were making girls squeal with such bubble gum fare as, “Please Please Me.” I kind of feel their middle-era stuff like, “No Reply.” But when we get to the, “I am the Walrus,” stage, I can’t take any of it seriously. The only reason their legions of fans don’t recognize their music as drug-fueled self-parody is because most of them (though not all) were nibbling the bark off of trees right along with the Fab Four.
Now, I know what some of you are gonna say. “Ryan, how dare you criticize such a transformative period of enlightenment as the 60’s? Donald Trump is about to be our president! No comparison!”
People! Trump is a product of the ‘60’s. Spray that truth on the back of a stamp and lick it off.
I can also anticipate another argument. “Ryan, you’re a product of the ‘80’s, when Michael Jackson was king. Spray that one in your hair and light it on fire!”
Ok, fine! But putting the pedophilia stuff aside (which happened in the ‘90’s, by the way), Michael had real, honest-to-God talent. Just because he was as crazy as a crack house rat doesn’t mean he wasn’t musically gifted.
Not everything that came out of the ‘60’s was bad. Gim’me The Stones. Gim’me The Who. Gim’me The Doors. Gim’me Adam West as Batman and Sean Connery as James Bond! But don’t give me “Octopus’s Garden,” or I’ll force feed you a marshmallow pie.
I’ll throw you Beatles loyalists one concession. I do love the song, “Let it Be.” I much prefer the quiet, personal spirituality of Paul McCartney to the self-indulgent utopianism of John Lennon’s, “Imagine.” Plus, the piano is very moving.
The real purpose of this post is to see whether or not I can make my mellow pal Dan mad. I already got his hackles up when I slammed, “Alice’s Restaurant,” last Thanksgiving. If my clever plan works as it should, I will get to sleep in on Saturdays from now on.
