Alexandersmap

    Tag: The Beatles

    • Words

      “Words are flowing out
      Like endless rain into a paper cup
      They slither while they pass
      They slip away across the universe”
      – The Beatles, Across The Universe

      I was listening to John Lennon sing this song early this morning, well before the light caught up with me, on the noise-cancelling headphones I’d normally wear on a plane traveling to drown out the roar and the chatter.  At home during the magic hour when nobody else is up but me there is no roar and chatter, making the headphones a bit of overkill, but they still have a way of bringing you into the room with the artist singing to you.  And this morning I hung out with Lennon for a bit.

      I suppose I was inspired to revisit The Beatles and John in particular after re-watching the movie Yesterday, well, yesterday. But it was inevitable that I’d come back to them. They always come back to me, or maybe I return to them. It doesn’t matter which, really, just that it happens.  And I came back to Across The Universe just as I’ve been thinking about something I said a few days ago about writing.  It’s not an original thought, mind you, but I always write with it in mind.  Writing this blog is a catch and release for me.  I catch the words that the muse offers me and release them to the universe the same day.  It’s my way of practicing the art of writing every day, on an admittedly eclectic and wide-ranging mix of topics, and publishing it soon thereafter.  And now a few of you are reading it, a few more will find it someday, and the words slip away across the universe.

      I’ve visited The Beatles Museum in Liverpool, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, and the Country Music Hall of Fame, Patsy Cline and Johnny Cash Museums in Nashville within the last six months.  Each offers their own bit of magic and nostalgia, but for me nothing resonates like seeing the handwritten lyrics on some old note paper that an artist jotted down while dancing with the muse.  What once were words coming to mind for the artist became a song the world knows by heart, and that paper forever marks the moment ink met paper and captured the words.

      I know the world isn’t going to know by heart some clever phrase I believe I may capture and release in this blog, but I capture the words and release them anyway.  Someday I’ll be gone – say a long, long time from now, and the blog puts a few words out there in the universe that came through me.  Well, as long as I pay the annual fee anyway. I believe I just bought my words another year. So universe; there’s still time.

    • Day Tripping With the Beatles

      When you grow up a Beatles fan you learn all the names. Not John, Paul, George and Ringo (that goes without saying), but Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields and The Cavern Club and Elenor Rigby and all the rest. Those names are in Liverpool. And that’s where I found myself yesterday.

      Some people go to Disney World for their dreams to come true. I have a hard time wrapping my head around that. But walking in the footsteps of those who came before? Standing in a spot where a legend was literally born? Yes, please. And Liverpool delivers.

      There’s much more to this city than The Beatles, and I’d love to write about my experiences with all of the museums and exploring the waterfront more. But we had a seven hour window to work with, and a lifetime of assumptions to work through. So it was all about The Fab Four on this trip. If I were to go again, and I hope I do, I’d stay for at least a long weekend for a more immersive Liverpool experience. There’s just so much to see you’ll need the time.

      If you’re a Beatles fan with limited time, I’d recommend the itinerary we created on the fly. Go to The Beatles Story for an immersive self-paced walk through the lives of John, Paul, George and Ringo (that’s the accepted order of names, it messes up everything to jumble them). Wear the headsets and listen to the stories and music, it’s a great launching point for a day with The Beatles.

      Right down the street is the boarding spot for the Magical Mystery Tour, a fabulously fun tour on a bright yellow coach bus. Highly informative stories about what you’re seeing or, importantly, about to see sprinkled with Beatles songs that had many on the bus singing along. That “about to see” part is key, because when driving up a street it’s helpful to know what to look for. Our guide was excellent and prepped us for the turn onto Penny Lane and the drive-by of Elenor Rigby’s grave so we were collectively ready for the moment. Just enough stops for pictures along the way to satiate the Beatles fan checklist without losing momentum. I’ve done a few bus tours in my day, most do the job of informing on the fly well, some not so well. This one is exceptional.

      The tour ended down the street from The Cavern Club, and included a ticket to get in. Perfect way to end the day? Not so fast; there was still one more thing to do before the sun set. My daughter and I walked briskly down to the waterfront for a picture with Ringo, Paul, George and John (See? Doesn’t flow the same). Liverpool is well aware of the positive contribution their four lads have made on the city and erected statues of each of them together looking west. There are other statues of them individually sprinkled in the city but I’m partial to the band together.

      To cap off a Fab day we made our way back to The Cavern Club, deep down several the flights of stairs to the place where they took off. And this place didn’t disappoint. Great music playing on that stage we all know. The arched Cavern walls enclose you, immersive and reflective all at once. You’re literally there, wrapped up in that place you would see in black and white images, now a living monument to the past and a vibrant and exciting bar. The Cavern Club has a pulse, and it’s strong. I had no idea this place deep underground would be the highlight of my day, but it surely was. I’d go again any time at all.

    • Oh, That Magic Feeling: Abbey Road

      Abbey Road turned 50 years old last week. It’s always been my favorite Beatles album, particularly side two with its magical medley. It grabbed me the year that Lennon was shot and hasn’t let me go since. To be coming into my own as a young Beatles fan and then lose one of them was a gut punch at a time when I hadn’t taken a lot of gut punches yet.

      Abbey Road ages well. From the first notes of Come Together to the surprise bonus track Her Majesty, the album is still an astonishing journey after countless listening. It’s The Beatles throwing it all out there to see what happens, as they’d done for each of their milestone albums since Rubber Soul. It would all end with Abbey Road, their last studio album, and the last song they’d ever collaborate on was Come Together. Surely they had a sense of irony?

      George Harrison, the quiet Beatle, was at his creative peak with two of the best Beatles songs ever, his masterpieces Here Comes The Sun and Something. As a kid I latched onto Harrison as my favorite Beatle. Lennon and McCartney were just too big for me then. Harrison wasn’t flashy, he just got things done. And he surely was doing, er, Something. “Something in the way she moves” would be a line James Taylor would borrow from George for his own song of the same name, a tribute to the giants around him when he was recording at Abbey Road Studios around the same time.

      If the album had great individual songs on side one, side two would become famous for that medley. How many radio DJ’s put the needle down on that medley and ran to the bathroom because they had time? All of them. Because, You Never Give Me Your Money, Sun King, Mean Mr. Mustard, Polythene Pam, She Came In Through The Bathroom Window, Golden Slumbers, The End…. Her Majesty. Boom. Rapid fire, half finished songs blended together into one unified medley. Brilliant percussion from Ringo and Paul’s underrated bass guitar, John and George on guitar… and all of them harmonizing like they’d sing together forever. But this truly was the end.

      One verse in that medley stands out for me the same back as a teenager as it does today, if the meaning has changed over the span of time;

      “Any jobber got the sack

      Monday morning, turning back

      Yellow lorry slow, nowhere to go

      But oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go

      Oh, that magic feeling

      Nowhere to go, nowhere to go”

      – The Beatles, “You Never Give Me Your Money”

      Surely the idea of nowhere to go meant something to The Beatles, having ground themselves to dust touring and then prolifically cranking out brilliant album after brilliant album. They were exhausted, sick of each other, burdened by business transactions gone wrong, wrestling with creative tensions, and incredibly, still in their twenties. Solo careers were just ahead for all of them, but they came together for this incredible album to give us one last gift. Let It Be would come later, but was recorded prior to Abbey Road. This would be it, but what a way to end.

    • Vera, Chuck and Dave

      That’s the answer to a Trivial Pursuit question.  The question is who are the grandchildren mentioned in The Beatles’ When I’m 64.  Vera, Chuck and Dave.  Once you know it you don’t forget it, and you hear the names every time you hear the song.  And I find that to be the case with many things.  Some things you learn and hold onto for a period of your life – like the subject matter for a quiz you took in school.  Most of it disappears into the gray matter of your brain.

      But then there are things you remember forever.  I’m not talking about the life moment stuff like the birth of a child or your wedding day, but the minutia of like that somehow holds enough meaning to stay locked in your memory bank ready to pull out at a moments notice.  Vera, Chuck and Dave are just that – trivial bits of information that stay with you once you learn them in a different way.

      This goes for visual memories as well.  I’ll never forget flying through the air in slow motion when I was hit by a car at the age of 10, or the expressions of the driver and his wife as I made my way to their windshield.  I was lucky to survive that flight, and I won’t forget it.  Nor should I – for better or worse, that was a highlight moment for all the wrong reasons.  What’s more interesting to me are the little, seemingly insignificant moments that I remember vividly years later, while things I wish I’d remember better disappear never to return again.

      Life is funny that way.  You can sing the lyrics of a song you haven’t heard in years, but you can’t remember what you said in your wedding vows.  I can remember a hundred other things from the day I got married, but I couldn’t tell you what I said in front of my bride and a couple of hundred friends and relatives.  But even though I can’t remember the words I’m certainly trying to live the vows anyway.