I'd like to do something I've yet to do in these pages: recommend a podcast. That podcast is:
It's brought to you by National Review and curated by Scott Bertram and Jeff Blehar, two folks I have zero familiarity with outside of this podcast. In this day and age I suppose I should google them to ensure they're not human traffickers (or worse) before recommending their work, but I'll go out on a limb and assume NR already did that.
The conceit of the show is Jeff and Scott interview someone from the world of politics on their favorite music. Everyone listens to all the albums, takes notes, then they have a discussion. Jeff and Scott are obvious music fanatics, and their guests choose a band they not only love but know something about, so a lively and informative discussion is guaranteed. Politics are neither discussed nor allowed. In the few cases they are brought up by proxy with the music, it's always done in a funny way.
For example: I'm almost done with of the U2 podcast they did with Stephen Miller (a different dude than the White House Stephen Miller) and was cracking up at the Joshua Tree discussion. The Edge described the album as their "anti-Reagan" album. Fair enough. They engage with this without once criticizing or analyzing such a position, they only engage with the music. Jeff at one point jokes about how he's personally a big fan of the CIA's interventions in South and Central America in the 70s, but that doesn't stop him from admiring "Bullet the Blue Sky" or "Mothers of the Disappeared." (Actually, he may not like that last one, I forget.)
Anyway, I'd say it's a good litmus test: if you can't listen to Political Beats without furiously policing it for the slightest hint of partisan warfare, that's too bad. It's an impulse I understand, though; I feel the same way when anyone recommends anything to me these days and it's always such a relief to be able to let one's guard down. If you want to save the time. trust me; it's safe to let your guard down with this one.
They also don't just stick to conservative journalists. The Led Zeppelin episode, for example, is with Julie Roginsky, and the Radiohead episode is with Molly Ball. Both are marvelous. In their day jobs, Roginsky and Ball enthusiastically contribute to an opposite POV and I find them very alienating; here on Political Beats, it's possible to see them as human beings with whom one actually has wide swaths of common ground.
If anything can possibly serve to bring two warring factions together, it's a shared love of bands and music. Political Beats isn't trying to make you/us kill or hate anyone, and they should be commended for it. Especially these days.
Which brings us to the subject of today's post: these two wonderful Beatles episodes with Charles W. Cooke. Episode the first here, and here's the second. Over six hours of hardcore Beatles overview.
Now, if you're anything like me, you probably hear that and think "Six hours? Who has that kind of time? Moreover, what more could I possibly learn about the Beatles?"
I can't answer that for you, but I myself learned a few new things. And I thought that was kind of impossible on this topic. See, from about 1992 to, sheesh, all the way through 1999 or 2000, I lived in a bit of a Beatles bubble.
Other bands infiltrated my consciousness and CD collection during this period, for sure, but my guiding light was the Beatles. By the way, the actual point of this blog - i.e. if you love the Beatles, definitely dive into these 2 podcasts; if you love well-informed friendly conversation about music, definitely take a look at Political Beats - is pretty much over. The rest of the interview will be Centaur questions. So to speak.
In 1992 my friend Kevin got me into the Beatles. Previous to this I had eyes only for metal and/or classic rock. (And movie soundtracks - always loved those. And Beethoven.) Broad strokes-wise, here's how it went from that point on:
1992-1993: I was mainly a fan (an obsessive one to be sure) only of the later stuff, i.e. Revolver and beyond. My main text during this period was this one:
From here I memorized the general story arc of the band. I've read it, I don't know, 5 or 6 times over the years. Peter Brown was a rather disgruntled ex-member of the Beatles inner circle (and he wasn't really personally befriended by any band member, despite being immortalized in "The Ballad of John and Yoko") so I've come to see this more as a hack job over the years, but the gosspiy parts as well as the financial info fascinated me at the time.
And of course there was the music itself. Favorite songs in this period? "Hey Bulldog" and "I Am the Walrus." (Also? Inexplicably, "PS I Love You". ) My buddy Kevin is one of the world's great unsung guitarists and musical geniuses (as all Boat Chips fan know!) and the instruction he gave me during this period of the whys and hows of the music sticks with me to this day. In short: there are actual, scientific reasons why the Beatles were as good as they were, and knowing them makes you a better, more informed human being.
1993 - 1997: Here's where I went into Beatles overload, pretty much. The psychedelic era wasn't enough for me anymore, and I dove into the back catalog. And the post-Beatles catalog. And any/ all books and interviews and Yoko solo albums and Splinter and Wonderwall and The Firemen and any and everything. And consumed every book on the band I could think of.
Notable books poured down the mental gulliver in this period were:
Also coming out in this period:
And wow - talk about a gift to the burgeoning Beatlemaniac. I'd been obsessed with finishing "Leave My Kitten Alone" since reading about it in Bobbie Ann Mason's In Country. (No internet in those days, folks) So that was my favorite part of it all. But there was also the really bizarre "What's the New Mary Jane?" which I'd also been reading about, plus a studio version of John's "Real Love" (which could previously only be heard on the Imagine - the documentary that came out in the 80s - soundtrack) and "Free As a Bird," which to my knowledge hadn't been heard by anyone.
Your opinion on these songs probably depends on your tolerance for weird-ass acidified audio collages ("What's the New Mary Jane") or Electric Light Orchestra ("Free As a Bird" and "Real Love"). But "Leave My Kitten Alone" is great, vintage Beatles.
Speaking of these Anthologies, I wish they'd covered these in the Political Beats episodes. They should do a third where they cover nothing but. (They do have another episode where they discuss Wings with Mark Davis. Which is pretty good. Like Wings, though, not as unilaterally engaging as the Beatles.)
21st Century: Well, all things must pass. I'll always love the Beatles, but my red giant became more of a white dwarf over the past 20 years. Which only makes sense: you can't sustain the type of obsessive interest I had in the band over more than 8 or 9 years. Also: I broke up with the girl I was with in the 90s, and that coincided with just consciously establishing new directions. I remember her telling me once she could never listen to the Beatles again. That made me happy. I'm sure it didn't last, but I was happy to be so associated with them in her mind that such an indelible chunk of 20th century pop music history had a big McAsterisk next to it. Okay this wasn't the most gracious or enlightened attitude. I got over it. I'm sure she did, too.
Anyway, I stopped buying every new Paul or Ringo CD, George died, and I moved on to some other things. Prior to these Political Beat episodes, though, I did have one transcendent Beatles experience, when I ordered these two things:
Wow, holy moley - must-haves for every Beatles fan. Like these two PB episodes, I learned things I never knew before, and I heard from folks (like Bobby Vinton) that I never heard comment on the Beatles before. Awesome stuff. There are music magazines, and then there's MOJO, so obviously and comprehensively superior to all others that it deserves its own category.
It's brought to you by National Review and curated by Scott Bertram and Jeff Blehar, two folks I have zero familiarity with outside of this podcast. In this day and age I suppose I should google them to ensure they're not human traffickers (or worse) before recommending their work, but I'll go out on a limb and assume NR already did that.
The conceit of the show is Jeff and Scott interview someone from the world of politics on their favorite music. Everyone listens to all the albums, takes notes, then they have a discussion. Jeff and Scott are obvious music fanatics, and their guests choose a band they not only love but know something about, so a lively and informative discussion is guaranteed. Politics are neither discussed nor allowed. In the few cases they are brought up by proxy with the music, it's always done in a funny way.
For example: I'm almost done with of the U2 podcast they did with Stephen Miller (a different dude than the White House Stephen Miller) and was cracking up at the Joshua Tree discussion. The Edge described the album as their "anti-Reagan" album. Fair enough. They engage with this without once criticizing or analyzing such a position, they only engage with the music. Jeff at one point jokes about how he's personally a big fan of the CIA's interventions in South and Central America in the 70s, but that doesn't stop him from admiring "Bullet the Blue Sky" or "Mothers of the Disappeared." (Actually, he may not like that last one, I forget.)
Anyway, I'd say it's a good litmus test: if you can't listen to Political Beats without furiously policing it for the slightest hint of partisan warfare, that's too bad. It's an impulse I understand, though; I feel the same way when anyone recommends anything to me these days and it's always such a relief to be able to let one's guard down. If you want to save the time. trust me; it's safe to let your guard down with this one.
They also don't just stick to conservative journalists. The Led Zeppelin episode, for example, is with Julie Roginsky, and the Radiohead episode is with Molly Ball. Both are marvelous. In their day jobs, Roginsky and Ball enthusiastically contribute to an opposite POV and I find them very alienating; here on Political Beats, it's possible to see them as human beings with whom one actually has wide swaths of common ground.
If anything can possibly serve to bring two warring factions together, it's a shared love of bands and music. Political Beats isn't trying to make you/us kill or hate anyone, and they should be commended for it. Especially these days.
Which brings us to the subject of today's post: these two wonderful Beatles episodes with Charles W. Cooke. Episode the first here, and here's the second. Over six hours of hardcore Beatles overview.
Now, if you're anything like me, you probably hear that and think "Six hours? Who has that kind of time? Moreover, what more could I possibly learn about the Beatles?"
I can't answer that for you, but I myself learned a few new things. And I thought that was kind of impossible on this topic. See, from about 1992 to, sheesh, all the way through 1999 or 2000, I lived in a bit of a Beatles bubble.
Other bands infiltrated my consciousness and CD collection during this period, for sure, but my guiding light was the Beatles. By the way, the actual point of this blog - i.e. if you love the Beatles, definitely dive into these 2 podcasts; if you love well-informed friendly conversation about music, definitely take a look at Political Beats - is pretty much over. The rest of the interview will be Centaur questions. So to speak.
In 1992 my friend Kevin got me into the Beatles. Previous to this I had eyes only for metal and/or classic rock. (And movie soundtracks - always loved those. And Beethoven.) Broad strokes-wise, here's how it went from that point on:
1992-1993: I was mainly a fan (an obsessive one to be sure) only of the later stuff, i.e. Revolver and beyond. My main text during this period was this one:
From here I memorized the general story arc of the band. I've read it, I don't know, 5 or 6 times over the years. Peter Brown was a rather disgruntled ex-member of the Beatles inner circle (and he wasn't really personally befriended by any band member, despite being immortalized in "The Ballad of John and Yoko") so I've come to see this more as a hack job over the years, but the gosspiy parts as well as the financial info fascinated me at the time.
And of course there was the music itself. Favorite songs in this period? "Hey Bulldog" and "I Am the Walrus." (Also? Inexplicably, "PS I Love You". ) My buddy Kevin is one of the world's great unsung guitarists and musical geniuses (as all Boat Chips fan know!) and the instruction he gave me during this period of the whys and hows of the music sticks with me to this day. In short: there are actual, scientific reasons why the Beatles were as good as they were, and knowing them makes you a better, more informed human being.
1993 - 1997: Here's where I went into Beatles overload, pretty much. The psychedelic era wasn't enough for me anymore, and I dove into the back catalog. And the post-Beatles catalog. And any/ all books and interviews and Yoko solo albums and Splinter and Wonderwall and The Firemen and any and everything. And consumed every book on the band I could think of.
Notable books poured down the mental gulliver in this period were:
 |
| Nicholas Schaffner's is the best of the bunch, for my money. |
 |
| Written by John's childhood buddy Pete Shotton (and Nick Schaffner). Notable for Pete's assertions re: lyrical contributions to "Eleanor Rigby" and "I Am the Walrus" ("Let the fuckers work that one out, Pete!") as well as the emotional rawness of the last page. ("What a fucking ending.") |
 |
| I read this one a few times - it's really not great (and some of the info is disputed elsewhere) but I liked all the post-Beatles stuff, which I had no idea about at the time. |
  |
| Any Beatles fan needs the two interviews John'n'Yoko and Paul'n'Linda (respectively) gave to Playboy. Those who balk at collecting the actual magazines can get at least the John and Yoko one in book form: |
 |
| And actually I think both interviews are available on the web now, for free. (Here's a link to the 2nd part of the Paul and Linda one.) |
  |
| Your Beatles library is of course incomplete without these 2 works by John, but to be honest, they're pretty skippable. This one, though, has some biographical essays and poetry and weirdness definitely worth owning: |
 |
| "A is for Parrot which we can plainly see / B is for glasses which we can plainly see / C is for plastic which we can plainly see / D is for Doris." |
  |
| And finally, this wonderful memoir of the Summer of Love by the Beatles publicist Derek Taylor. |
Also coming out in this period:
And wow - talk about a gift to the burgeoning Beatlemaniac. I'd been obsessed with finishing "Leave My Kitten Alone" since reading about it in Bobbie Ann Mason's In Country. (No internet in those days, folks) So that was my favorite part of it all. But there was also the really bizarre "What's the New Mary Jane?" which I'd also been reading about, plus a studio version of John's "Real Love" (which could previously only be heard on the Imagine - the documentary that came out in the 80s - soundtrack) and "Free As a Bird," which to my knowledge hadn't been heard by anyone.
Your opinion on these songs probably depends on your tolerance for weird-ass acidified audio collages ("What's the New Mary Jane") or Electric Light Orchestra ("Free As a Bird" and "Real Love"). But "Leave My Kitten Alone" is great, vintage Beatles.
Speaking of these Anthologies, I wish they'd covered these in the Political Beats episodes. They should do a third where they cover nothing but. (They do have another episode where they discuss Wings with Mark Davis. Which is pretty good. Like Wings, though, not as unilaterally engaging as the Beatles.)
21st Century: Well, all things must pass. I'll always love the Beatles, but my red giant became more of a white dwarf over the past 20 years. Which only makes sense: you can't sustain the type of obsessive interest I had in the band over more than 8 or 9 years. Also: I broke up with the girl I was with in the 90s, and that coincided with just consciously establishing new directions. I remember her telling me once she could never listen to the Beatles again. That made me happy. I'm sure it didn't last, but I was happy to be so associated with them in her mind that such an indelible chunk of 20th century pop music history had a big McAsterisk next to it. Okay this wasn't the most gracious or enlightened attitude. I got over it. I'm sure she did, too.
Anyway, I stopped buying every new Paul or Ringo CD, George died, and I moved on to some other things. Prior to these Political Beat episodes, though, I did have one transcendent Beatles experience, when I ordered these two things:
Wow, holy moley - must-haves for every Beatles fan. Like these two PB episodes, I learned things I never knew before, and I heard from folks (like Bobby Vinton) that I never heard comment on the Beatles before. Awesome stuff. There are music magazines, and then there's MOJO, so obviously and comprehensively superior to all others that it deserves its own category.
~
By all means, leave your favorite Beatles texts in the comments. or anecdotes, timelines, whatever you wish. The floor is officially open to all Beatles biographying. 
