30.1.22 Everybody had a good time

 It was The Eggpod that did it. The 'I Am There Eggpod' podcast to be precise. It's a wonderful thing, a constantly good listen. If you're into The Beatles (as you should be). If you're not then it's possibly less necessary for you.

The year began with the idea on The Eggpod that guests would talk their way through Get Back on a daily basis. On the day it happened. 53 years later, obviously; we're in 2022, they're very much in 1969. Though it doesn't necessarily feel that way. The thing we know from Get Back is that 'The Four Lads Who Shook The World' are  ow eternally captured in every detail of their mid to late twenties (none yet turned thirty, George Harrison 25. Which is ridiculous.)

Young men, growing up, trying to figure what the next bit is. Hard enough at any time, but when you're the most famous people on the planet.

So I decide that I'd join in with this idea. Watch Get Back daily, on the day. Told J I was going to do that.

I got to day three. The moments where I could play the film out with the volume that I wanted and not inconvenience the rest of the world were... limited.

J doesn't really 'get' The Beatles. She likes them, thinks they were obviously good but doesn't necessarily get the fuss that builds around them. And in that sentence is the key to just why The Beatles are so much better than any other band that's ever walked the planet.

We'll get to that.

Today's the day, though. *The* day. The rooftop gig. The last time they ever played in public together. You knew that. Everybody knows that. It's part of the key to the whole thing. You *know* these things about this band.

And the rooftop gig isn't really a gig. There are three Get Backs, two I've Got A Feelings. It's obviously recording session as much as 'show'. More so, since no bugger can see them.

I won't bother describing the action, describing the music; you can sort that. You can either watch it or you already have it seared somewhere in your soul. 

I just want total (briefly, it's a Sunday, I'm relaxing) about the real heroes of this part of the eight and a half hours of Peter Jackson's 'this was supposed to be a film but then covid hit and we thought what the hell' saga.

Yes, Kevin the roadie, who looks as tough he's time travelled from roughly now back to then, swear to god he's constantly wearing this season's Fred Perry collection.

Yes, Mal Evans who everybody loves.

But really it's Jimmy and Debbie. Jimmy on the door with his Crombie and what appears to be Paul Weller's haircut, Debbie on the desk who I'm not sure we ever see. It's these two, constantly sabotaging the efforts of the two youngest policemen ever seen as they attempt to seriously threaten arresting a Beatle or four. 

Debbie with her deadpan "I have no real idea what they're doing up there" nonchalance and Jimmy, who is - in the kindest possible way and meant with all love and admiration - a piss taking bastard of the highest order. A constant smirk on his face, total understanding of what he's doing.

These are the heroes, the unnoticed small figures in history who just happen to be part of a legend. A part that we'd never known before but now accept are crucial. Our lives are better for the knowing.

These are the things that I thought as we watched the rooftop gig again today. As J sang along with I've Got A Feeling and Don't Let Me Down.

And there's the key. Album tracks. Not singles. You could argue that it's because I play this stuff so often but that can't be the case. J knew Two Of Us before this film/series appeared. The opener on what you'd consider to be one of The Beatles more minor albums (if you can apply that idea to having a scale of Beatles albums - let's start at genius and work up). Side two of Abbey Road. these things are imprinted. And they're imprinted by more than simple repetition. 

There are loads of acts I play a lot. My wife doesn't know album tracks by Pink Floyd, Led Zep, Elvis Costello, the Stones, the Who, Prince, the Manics, Love. They don't stick.

The Beatles stick. That's the key, that's what they have that the others don't. Their music just lives in us all the time.

It might be melody, might be brevity, might be that they were simply able to focus on populism because they were inventing populism. Might be all those things. 

Really it's just because they were simply infinitely better at everything than any of their peers, anybody who came before, anybody who has come since. 

The once and future kings.