Review of a Review -- But, Hey, It's About The Beatles

I don't usually write reviews of reviews -- in fact, I'm pretty sure I never have -- but Joel McKinnon, whose views on science fiction, music, and the world at large I've found invariably worthy, strongly recommended that I read Ian Leslie's lengthy review of Peter Jackson's lengthy masterpiece The Beatles Get Back ("Knowing how much you loved Get Back I think you'll love this beautiful essay about it," Joel told me), so I did, and he was right.

In fact, from the very first line of Leslie's review -- "A friend of mine, a screenwriter in New York, believes Get Back has a catalytic effect on anyone who does creative work" -- I knew that Joel was right.  Because that's exactly what watching Jackson's eight-hour documentary did for me.  I'm always writing reviews, other nonfiction, science fiction, lyrics and music, whatever, but I've been on one thrill of a creative ride since I saw Get Back at the end of November (including writing an alternate reality story about The Beatles and WFUV Radio -- It's Real Life -- which has in turn sparked my writing all kinds of other linked stories).  And that's because Get Back is a paean to, as far I know, the greatest creative work of the words and music of songs in human history, and Leslie's review gets that, too.

Here are two other other points on which Leslie and I manifestly agree:

• Leslie likes McCartney's "toothy, boyish, involuntary grin" which, he notes, even showed up after the British bobbies arrived on the roof.  As I noted in my review of Part 3 of The Beatles: Get Back, McCartney's response to the police on the roof was my favorite moment in the entire documentary, and there were a myriad of contenders (see the next point).
• Leslie cites Ringo's "I would like to go up on the roof" as a pivotal moment in the true narrative that Jackson gives us.  In that same review of  Part 3, I mention that another favorite moment is Ringo making that statement.  I've been thinking on and off about that since the end of November, and I'd say that statement and its result of getting the Beatles up on the roof is sweet proof of the important role that Ringo had in the group, concomitant with his drumming.

Ok, here's a brilliant part of Leslie's review which I don't talk at all about:  Leslie approvingly paraphrases Rick Rubin's observation that "The Beatles are the single best argument for the existence of God".  I really like that -- not surprising, given that I thought Rubin's McCartney: 3,2,1 was a kind of masterpiece, too.

I could go on, but you surely get the picture.  If you love the Beatles, and loved Jackson's documentary, read Leslie's review.   It provides a really attractive fence around the magnificent garden of music that was and is The Beatles, and the astonishingly satisfying lighting that Jackson's movie has shone on it, and that's an insufficient metaphor.

But I'll end this review of a review with offering an answer to one of Leslie's minor questions:  He wonders what John meant when he says to Paul, “We’re altogether, boy".  Leslie also wonders if Paul knew.  I'd say John was referring to Paul's "All Together Now," recorded in 1967 and released in January 1969.  The timing is perfect and of course Paul knew.

McCartney 3, 2, 1: Guide to Eternity

The first thing I want to tell you about McCartney 3, 2, 1 -- Rick Rubin's incandescent black-and-white three-hour six-episode interview with McCartney on Hulu -- is that in addition to being mind blowing and musically joyful, it made me very sad.

Not just because John and George should by all rights still be with us.  But because Paul says at some point that since the Beatles are finished, their work now complete, he's become a fan of the Beatles, and much better able to appreciate their music which includes his songs, his voice, his bass, his ideas for arrangements, and much more.

And I don't want the Beatles to be finished.  I want them to go on forever making that uniquely wonderful and always evolving music.  And though I know that's impossible, I don't care.  The pleasure that the Beatles brought to me and so many millions and millions of people was and is magical.  Including "Free As A Bird" and "It's Real Love," recorded after Lennon was gone, and which weren't in this documentary and I missed.  But if magic is involved, anything is possible, isn't it?

The conversation, though, was one for the ages, and my guess is it will be watched and listened to and carefully analyzed for thousands of years.  A lot of it I already knew, like how McCartney arrived at Lennon's house with an essentially complete "Here, There, and Everywhere," which may be McCartney's favorite Beatles song.  And a lot of it I didn't, like how Lennon really liked "Here, There, and Everywhere," and how pleased McCartney was when Lennon told him so.

Just hearing the tracks of the songs that Rubin played and played with, as a beckoning of McCartney's remembrances and explanations, were of deepest pleasure to the ear, the heart, and soul.  As some of you may know, ever since The Village Voice published my "A Vote for McCartney" in 1971 -- my defense of McCartney's solo albums, after he left the Beatles, in the face of the Voice's dyspeptic critic Robert Christgau's attack -- McCartney has managed to be more to me than a member of the Beatles.  That essay, after all, was my first published article.  But seeing McCartney 3, 2, 1 brings home just how much this genius contributed to the Beatles, and how he strove to do that.   I used to tell people in the 1970s that I thought the Beatles' music would live as long as Shakespeare's plays.  I'd add now that Rubin's movie will be an important accompaniment to that body of music, more magnificent than ever.