L a d i e s a n d G e n t l e m e n, . . .
t h e B e a t l e s
I first heard the Beatles on a "Hit or Miss" call-in on KOMA, 50,000 watts of power from Oklahoma City, OK, in November, 1963. It was the weekend after the Kennedy assassination and there was nothing on TV (as I tell my sons, you could watch anything you wanted, as long as it was on that ONE channel!), so I was tuning a huge old Zenith radio that had been left in the house we were renting at the time, searching the static-y airwaves for anything that resembled the sound I was seeking, a sound I hadn't even heard yet, but somehow knew was out there, somewhere, waiting for me. I had tinkered with this radio on several previous occasions, with varying degrees of success, managing to capture KOMA for a few songs before losing it to the atmosphere. The reason for this problem was simply distance, and the fact we lived among the Rocky Mountains on the western slope of Colorado, nearly 1,000 miles from the broadcast booth!
I finally managed to snag the wisps of the station’s broadcast, and listened to the Essex' "Easier Said Than Done" before the DJ, “J” Mike Wilson, announced the Hit or Miss candidate for the evening, "a record from England by a group called the Silver Beatles, who are quite popular there, right now". He explained the rules, and said that because the record hadn't come with a recommended "A" side, he would play both sides and they would tally votes on both songs before reporting the results. I listened to the 1st song with some excitement, but thought it similar to the type of songs typical of the early 60's, with a much stronger beat and a rousing instrumental accompaniment. The song was "I Want to Hold Your Hand", of course, and, after several ads, the DJ returned to announce the flip side of the disc, "I Saw Her Standing There". From the opening drum roll, I was hooked! I hung on ever note, willing that crotchety old radio to drag the signal in clearly. I didn't want to touch the dial, even though the signal faded and static threatened to take over, but I knew if I moved the dial, I would lose it, and I wanted to hear this song! When it ended, I sat there staring at the face of this large wooden cabinet, with a small glass dial in the middle of the top half, and the art-deco-styled letters spelling "Zenith", with a big, goofy smile on my face. I knew somehow that the sound of rock and roll had changed. The music that I had been only somewhat interested in had transformed, in the space of two minutes and 55 seconds, into something far more alluring and wonderful.
The DJ came back on and chattered away, in the style of early 60's Top 40 jocks, although I wasn't paying any attention, then gave way to more ads, during which the static finally took over. The signal "traveled" and it required constant micro-tuning to keep a clear signal coming in, no small feat considering the dial was no larger than a half-dollar! I quickly moved to recapture this connection, but it took me several anxious minutes to get anything clear enough to understand. Some nights, the atmospheric interference was so great it was impossible to hear the station, and some nights it wasn't even possible to separate its signal from the haze.
When the DJ returned to announce the results, they weren't encouraging. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” got some 74 "hits" and almost as many "misses"; "I Saw Her Standing There" didn't fare as well, racking up only 62 "hits" and even more "misses". I shrugged, even at 14 being something of an iconoclast and independent of others opinions. I knew somehow I would hear more from the "Silver Beatles", although I did think it a screwy name. Of course, at the time, groups were usually fronts for singers, such as Jimmy Gilmore and the Fireballs, whose "Sugar Shack" had been at #1 just 3 weeks before and was still at #4 the week of November 23--30.
Years later, after “Beatlemania” had faded, been resurrected as a stage show and passed into the history books, I saw two performances of the multi-media show, "Away With Words". This was a four-screen, quadraphonic performance of "every" Beatles song, that toured the US in 1973. The opening scenes showed life in the 50's, while songs from Bill Haley, Little Richard and Elvis thundered from the massive speaker array. Even though they had been mixed for this event, the tinniness and crudity of the early rock classics was readily apparent. The display turned to the turmoil of the early 60's, the race riots, Bay of Pigs, Cuban Missile Crisis and A-bomb explosions, then focused on a black limousine turning a corner. Asthe events in Dealy Plaza played out, the music became quiet, then after the scenes of John-John and the funeral played out, transformed into Beatles-only songs.
A very effective and appropriate turning point, as I, and undoubtedly many others, had felt for years, the Kennedy Assassination represented a dividing line between the "old" world and the "new", if not better, world we suddenly found ourselves in, a world of VietNam and student demonstrations, race riots and the growing gulf of the "Generation Gap". A world in which the nightly news displayed images of vicious fighting in the jungles of a southeast Asian country no one knew anything about. We were subjected to nightly images of coups, burning Buddhist monks and baby-faced GI's, nervous and callow, who were being shuttled off to die in rice paddies in a country few could have located on a map, while politicians at home assured us this was necessary to prevent the need of fighting the "godless" communists on our own shores. The first "Wag the Dog" war, VietNam sparked powerful reactions on both sides of the issue, ultimately polarizing a generation. Bill Clinton went to Oxford on his Rhodes Scholarship, Tom Delay, Bill Frist, Rush Limbaugh and many other prominent Republicans in today's news sought and received "deferments“. George, Jr, joined the ANG, but decided not to fulfill his commitment, regardless of whether Dan Rather used "falsified" documents or not. The Beatles provided the soundtrack for the times, releasing "Revolution" at the height of the divisiveness, a subtle poke at those who thought Mao's "little Red book" was merely a treatise on the secrets to a better life. Their closing remark on the era, as the Beatles exited stage left, was "Let It Be", a well-deserved commentary on the battles and the drugs, the losses and the changes, the rocky road we had traveled together, the final blessing wished on a generation riven by turmoil and strife. Alas, by that time, the effects were too significant, too deeply etched in the character, to ever be undone.
The tone of the performance of "A Way With Words" (yes, it was shown both ways), seemed to cast the Beatles as something MORE than merely musicians and songwriters, but messengers from on high, sent to guide us through these difficult times. Whether they did it successfully, or according to the initial plan, is certainly open to speculation. It is significant that, even now, some 40 years later and counting, books are still being written about the four lads from Liverpool, their effect on music, fashion, the arts, and the product is snapped up by an eager public. One would think that everything that could be said has been, everything that could be marketed, has been. Just take a look at the auctions on eBay, for memorabilia and CD's, posters and autographs. Perhaps, in some far-distant future, historians and professors will teach classes on the Beatles, much as they teach Shakespeare. None of us will know, of course, but the possibility, assuming mankind survives the consequences of his stupidity over the course of this past century, is certainly a strong one, and there is much there to glean, even still.
There are those who insist, of course, that the Beatles were only another teenage phenomenon, like Elvis, before them, or Frank Sinatra in the 40’s, but neither of those artists controlled so much of their own creative output, nor had so dramatic an output an effect on their generation. The Beatles influence was felt from one end of the spectrum to the other, ultimately becoming an adjective for fuming parents, and for nascent “west-coast promo men”, eager to discover, and sign, the “next big thing”, ala the Beatles. That none of the other British Invasion bands had such an impact is not surprising in itself, even those who survived longer, or recorded more albums. The main claim for the Rolling Stones, labeled the “greatest rock’n’roll band” by Rolling Stone magazine (they do have a vested interest, after all), is the fact they are still on the road, 43 years later, even if a pre-30 Mick did say he thought it revolting for anyone 40, or older, to be posing as a rocker. He got over that more than 20 years ago (“ ’twas 20 years ago today, Sgt Pepper taught the band to sing…”). Today, he just counts the money and laughs all the way to the bank. The Beatles progressed on to the pantheon of stars, never to return, never to reform, but remembered and revered, and studied, pored over anddissected by historians and fans in attempts to capture what it was that was so special, so memorable. Their introduction into American households, via the then-modern marvel of TV, on the evening of February9, 1964, began “Beatlemania” with the screams of the studio audience. It also marked the beginning of the modern era, the age we find ourselves in, of diminished expectations, a known world with no new worlds to conquer, no unexplored areas, lying in wait for the tread of an adventurer’s Nike. That may well be the Beatles legacy and purpose, after all, to define the time in History when we transitioned from ascendancy to decline, from the time of infinite possibilities, to the time of dotting the “I”s and crossing the “t”s. Maybe that was the actual reason for the “dropped” T on Ringo’s drumhead, a clue to the shape of things to come.
