Peter Jackson, "Get Back" and Beatlemania Redux. Count Me In.

 

 

I was 13 years old when I first played in a band that wasn't a family gathering of pots, pans, an Optigan organ and a couple of kazoos. It was a trio, with the bassist and guitarist both ten years my senior. We played in a tiny studio in midtown Manhattan called M&R that was slightly bigger than an elevator. I recall playing a lousy version of Cream's arrangement of Skip James' "I'm So Glad," and a most unlikely choice of Stones' covers, "Citadel," which was even lousier. My memory of that first band rehearsal is of a band who hadn't actually heard either song, but played what they thought songs called "I'm So Glad" and "Citadel" might sound like.

I think I had fun.

Since then I've been in countless bands, playing everything from classic rock and heavy metal to hardcore punk, soul music and power pop. It's never been easy, though I have always felt that playing music is the most fun when there are no expectations and no rules.

After finishing the three part, almost eight hour Peter Jackson film "Get Back," I had many takeaways and a few revelations, which I will get to. But over the course of the three part documentary, I couldn't help but flashback to all of those rehearsals with all of those bands and all of those frustrating hours of stubbornness, miscommunication, underpreparedness, disagreements and unnecessary anxiety. If there is a musician out there who cannot relate, then you are definitely not from planet Earth.

Not even a genius like Paul McCartney could properly convey to his genius bandmates how he wanted them to play what he was hearing in his head.

"You know, just kinda go bip bip dit dit dit sshhwiiish, like there's some, you know space, you know?" 

No. That is not a directive. 

Neither is, "I want it to just, you know ~mimes a drummer, if the drummer was a flying scarecrow~ be like that, you know?"

No Paul. I don't know. Please shut up.

Maybe George's frustration and walkout were justified.  I've done it more than twice. It's not easy being in a band.

I'm sorry The Beatles broke up. But I get it.

Conversely, without Paul McCartney, The Beatles may not have made it out of The Cavern. McCartney was the visionary leader. Even when he refers to Lennon as the leader twice in the film, it's hard to believe he believes it himself. Without Macca's discipline and love for the band, and of course, the one adult in the room, Sir George Martin, I really believe things would have ended much sooner than 1970, like after the third verse of "Hallelujah I Love Her So," on that steamy Saturday night in Hamburg, 1961.

That said, "Get Back" was everything I wanted it to be and more. I certainly didn't need to be reminded of the brilliance of The Beatles. But I do think we have taken those Beatles harmonies for granted for over 50 years. Watching John, Paul & George casually coming in and out of numerous live takes of numerous songs and always nailing those three parts was miraculous. That magic is usually associated with siblings like the Louvins, Everlys and Gibbs. But you know, John, Paul and George really were brothers, weren't they?

For a "quiet Beatle," George had a lot more to say, in both words and music, than I expected. One should not dismiss George's middle harmony, a part that is usually the most challenging. It is as important as any other component of a Beatles tune, and he nails it, live for Pete's sake, every time. His vocal contributions, just like those of his two brothers, always seemed effortless. This wasn't work. Not for George and not for John and Paul. This was something else. I can't even begin to understand it.

And what about John's guitar playing? We've loved his rhythm playing for years, but I truly had no idea what he was capable of on an electric guitar. Or on the bass, for that matter. Or that he played piano on "She Came In Through The Bathroom Window?" That was new to me. But the kicker? Hearing Lennon reference The Move. That might be the greatest 20 seconds of film I have ever seen.

And here is Ringo. 

Again, it feels as if Ringo has just been there since 1962. But he truly is the secret weapon. While the others are working out chord changes and structure, he sits quietly, occasionally nodding off, saying very little. He wakes to play the most basic beats, adding nothing but the most simple rhythm. But then, once the tape begins rolling, he explodes, with creative smacks and fills that can only be from the mind and heart of Mr. Starkey. No one sounds like Ringo Starr, and those that try, fail. Trust me.

More times than not throughout this epic film, I found myself questioning what I was watching. How is it possible that this footage, telling this story of the greatest rock and roll band of all time, has never been seen? How is it possible that the Fab Four allowed us to believe the story originally told by Michael Lindsay-Hogg? Did no one want to set the record straight in the last 52 years? Maybe I missed something along the way.

Of course I can't help but be skeptical over Peter Jackson, his editors and the surviving Beatles and their immediate families. But even if this was all pieced together into an epic document of manipulation to show a happier band who truly loved each other, it worked. I'll take it. No amount of manipulation and editing could hide the smiles on the faces of John and Paul as they kibbitzed like they were teenagers in Liverpool ten years prior, or the genuine satisfaction on their faces when a song would finally start to come together.

And while we can never know how anyone truly felt about Yoko's presence, she certainly didn't seem to bother anyone on the surface. As Paul tellingly uttered in January of 1969, "In 50 years people will say The Beatles broke up because Yoko sat on an amp." "Get Back" shows us that Yoko was the least of the problems.

Something that absolutely tickled me throughout, were the various snippets played, or comments made about the band's catalogue. I would have thought by 1966, The Beatles were no longer thinking about 1965. So by 1969, songs like "Run For Your Life" or "Every Little Thing" should have been forgotten blips on their radar. At least, that is my perception. But,"Ask Me Why?" Really? Why? Why that song? I want to know! What made John reference "Ask Me Why" of all songs? Yet, these early songs kept popping up, not necessarily as suggestions for the live show, which was strictly about new material, but maybe as...what... excuses to jam? Or was it something else?  I found it all incredibly endearing. I am also convinced that The Beatles could have played and sung anything. Those January days at Twickenham and then Apple showed amazing singers and players who were beaten by endless distractons. Can you blame them? The talent never waned. The music was always there. The Beatles, as a fab foursome though, were not. Not completely. How frustrating is that shit?

I am ready to go back in and do the eight hours all over again. There was a stretch, early on in Part Two, where Paul is at the piano, half serious and half piss-taking songs like "Woman," the song he wrote for Peter & Gordon under the pseudonym Bernard Webb, or "Back Seat Of My Car," two years before it appeared on "Ram," that I found completely mesmerizing. As an old friend put it, "It's almost dreamlike to see Paul knocking out bits and pieces of so many songs that went on to become legendary." This is how I feel about the entirety of "Get Back." Nothing is real. It can't be.

For years, the songs "Get Back" and "Let It Be" were on my very short list of Beatles' songs I never liked that much.  This film changed that. The evolution of both blew my mind. (Watch Lennon's guitar playing on "Get Back" and be thrown for a loop.) And Jeebus, that rooftop concert rocked! Those hours....DAYS of anticipation...paid off big time, even if a total of only five songs were played. Some of them, twice. Next time one of those pain in the ass, ardent non-supporters who say The Beatles were overrated gets in your face, just keep walking. Or smack'em in the teeth. I dont care. 

The Beatles, on that roof at 3 Savile Row, were badasses.

How is it possible that just two years earlier, The Beatles were in "Pepper" mode, influencing the entire music world, and now, two years later, they can walk freely along Savile Row and gather a crowd of only, maybe a few hundred, mostly bored looking Londoners, as they performed on a rooftoop? What the hell really happened in 1968 and 1969, aside from no internet? Can it really be that no one knew or cared about The Beatles by that point? A Krispy Kreme opened in my neighborhood and 1000 people stood in line for hours just to get a free jelly donut, for the love of Todd!

If I have one complaint about "Get Back" it is the lack of full performances. Too often, the band starts to cook on songs like "Oh Darling" or "Mean Mr. Mustard" and the film cuts, leaving us to imagine the magic. I realize this isn't a concert film, but eight hours is a long time to not feature one complete performance. The Beatles were so good live, it hurt physically to be teased this way.

The Beatles rise was impossibly quick. The amount of quality music in such a short span of time is inconceivable by today's standards. And the end of it all seems just as inconceivable. To those involved, especially Paul who loved the band deeply, the end had to be nothing short of devastating, despite the aloof behavior put on display for the public. But to witness a mere eight hours of film, which is barely a snapshot of the years of history making work, the end felt about as climactic as snuffing out a birthday candle with wet fingertips. 

The Beatles, this time via Peter Jackson, have left me somewhat speechless and most definitely in the throes of Beatlemania once again.