If I was born at a different time I would’ve been a Beatlemaniac. Indeed, my mother was (is?) one of the originals, and has pictures from a concert in 1964 to prove it. So I had a thorough grounding in just how fab the Fab Four was from long before I can remember.
It took. To this day The Beatles represent, to me, the apex of popular music. No other performers made as sweeping and lasting of an impact on our entire culture – fashion, language, outlook, involvement, creativity, the whole bundle. I’ve loved The Beatles all my life.
But when did that love begin?
Ask me to name my favorite Beatles song, and you'll get no answer. There are too many. So many of their songs perfectly fit so many moods that it’s folly to even try to put one above another. If the soundtrack of my life was a double album (remember those?), The Beatles would take up three sides.
But when did I know I loved The Beatles?
It’s impossible to know exactly when. It was a long time ago and I was but a lad. But I know what song it was.
“She Loves You.”
It was catchy. It had hooks and harmonies – oh, the harmonies. It was, to my young ears, expertly played. It rocked. It had a great beat and you could dance to it. But, more than all that, it was joyous.
It. Was. Joyous.
I’ve never gotten tired of it. To this day I’ll stop what I’m doing to listen to it, and always wind up singing along. The joy has never left me. And I know I should be glad.