I love The Beatles. I read somewhere that The Beatles use the word “you” in their lyrics at a much higher rate than other bands. I vibe this theory. It accords well with my theory that incorporating the word “you” in your narrative voice creates intimacy with your reader (or listener in the case of The Beatles).
Me, aged 11. It is the Nineties. I am in a music shop in Centrepoint Shopping Plaza in Singapore. I had begged Daddy to buy me an album. He shocked me by agreeing. Daddy’s capitulation put me in the rather awkward position of buying something. I was not music savvy – yet to discover 98.7 FM and NKOTB.
I enlisted Mummy. She gently suggested The Beatles. So I ran over to the B section and chose a cassette tape of The Best of The Beatles without knowing who the heck they were.
I still shared a bedroom with my younger brother in those days. We also shared a cassette player. I guiltily admit to hogging our music player and resorting to subversive tactics to ensure that my tape – The Beatles – was what we constantly listened to. The Brother had gotten to choose an album for himself too – neither of us remember what he chose, but we both have The Beatles imprinted in our musical muscle memory.
A couple of weeks ago The Brother and I got into a (predictably) heated discussion of pinpointing the voices of John Lennon versus Paul McCartney in A Hard Day’s Night. And that digressed to The Brother recommending the Paul McCartney podcast in Deep Hidden Meaning Radio with Nile Rogers (Episode 6). Which then led to me to counter-recommending to The Brother Paul McCartney’s Carpool Karaoke with James Corden. Both: brilliant.
My toddler niece dances away when she hears Love Me Do on Spotify. She will never know a cassette tape outside of The Design Museum, but she loves The Beatles. This brings me to my favourite bit in the Nile Rogers podcast: Paul commiserating to Nile that one of his interns did not know what a CD was. A likely outcome with my niece too.
Paul, Paul…we have something in common.
This article is dedicated to my mother, who loved The Beatles, and to my father, who loves to surprise with gifts when least expected.