Tag Archives: Paul McCartney

Song(s) of the Day: Desert Trip Edition

There have been plenty of jokes about Desert Trip being called “Oldchella”. And while all the acts are certainly older, let’s not forget that they are rock royalty and all of them in some way or another have contributed to some of the greatest albums and songs ever made. So, today’s Song of the Day is a six-pack of awesomeness in honor of Desert Trip.

“I’ve Just Seen a Face” – The Beatles 

I’m not particularly fond of McCartney’s solo works, so I’m cheating a bit here and going with The Beatles. “I’ve Just Seen a Face” is probably one of my favorite Beatles’ songs and in my opinion it’s severely under-rated. It’s got one of McCartney’s best melodies and chord progressions.

“One of These Days” – Pink Floyd

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll note I wrote about this song several months ago. “One of These Days” is Pink Floyd at their best: dark, mysterious and menacing all at once. As with most classic Floyd, David Gilmour conjures up some wild sounds with his guitar, but the real highlight is the double-tracked bass played both Gilmour and Roger Waters.

“Everybody Knows This is Nowhere” – Neil Young

For me, Neil Young is the weakest link in Desert Trip’s line up. He’s an old curmudgeon like Bob Dylan and Van Morrison but without the catalogue to really back it up. That said, he does have some great songs and the country-rock of  “Everybody Knows This is Nowhere” would have been the best song he ever wrote, if he hadn’t recorded “Rocking in the Free World”.

“Long Live Rock” – The Who

One of the things that a lot of people often forget about The Who’s music is that they actually have a lot of funny songs. That side of them went to the wayside, when Pete Townshend decided to write “important” musical pieces. “Long Live Rock” is one of the few examples where The Who marry the muscular rock they forged in the ’70s, with the witticism of their early days. Best line: “We were the first band to vomit in the bar.”

“19th Nervous Breakdown” – The Rolling Stones

One of Keith Richards’ classic riffs – and lord know he’s got a shitload of them. But there’s something about the intro that just pulls you in and pummels you over the head. And Jagger is at his frantic best, barely able to keep up with Richards and Charlie Watts’ steady drumming. “19th Nervous Breakdown” is also somewhat famous for inspiring Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore to pick up the guitar and for that we should all be thankful.

“It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” – Bob Dylan

I get chills every time I listen to this song. On this monumental track, Dylan takes on society as a whole and takes down everyone within earshot. The most disturbing part about it, is that it seems to grow more pertinent with each passing year. There are tons of memorable lines, but for me the best is, “it is not he or she or them or it that you belong to.”

 

Song of the Week: “Train in Vain (Stand By Me)” – The Clash

The more I think about it, the more I see Mick Jones as the real genius in The Clash. Joe Strummer gets most of the attention and with good reason. But Strummer could also be a little too much John Lennon. Both had lots of admirable traits politically, but sometimes it could just be too much. And like Lennon, his politics weren’t always thought out despite his best intentions.

Jones on the other hand, was the group’s rock-star. He was the guy who wanted to just play and the one that wrote most of the group’s music. The dynamic between the two was made The Clash great just like Lennon and McCartney.

When I first got into The Clash, I used to always scuff at “Train in Vain”. It’s too simple, I thought…too much of a straight up pop-song. The Clash didn’t really do those things. But “Train in Vain” shows that if Jones wanted to, he could have made a great career out of writing pop songs. The irony of course, is that when he formed Big Audio Dynamite after The Clash, that group was even more experimental than The Clash. (Though they did have some hits and there were plenty of hooks.)

Everything about the song is instantly memorable:  Topper Headon’s famous drum intro, Jones’ riff and of the course the song’s chorus. Despite punk rock’s tendency to dismiss their elders, Jones clearly must have been paying attention songs of yesteryear. The song has an upbeat feel to it, but the lyrics are quite heavy and depressing.  “You didn’t stand by me,” Jones sings in his signature soft-voice. “No, way. No, not all.”

For many casual American fans, The Clash are probably best remembered for this song, “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” and “Rock the Casbah”.  Any other group would have killed to include a song like “Train in Vain” on the record, and The Clash tacked it on the very end of London Calling. On the original pressings, it wasn’t even listed as a track.

For me, “Train in Vain” also represents the end of an era. As the last song on London Calling, it sort of represents a good-bye to the “classic Clash”. Sure they did some good stuff afterwards, but their follow-up Sandinista! was too over-blown for it’s own good.  Combat Rock, with the exception of a few songs, was mostly terrible and forgetful.

Though the song’s lyrics are obviously about Jones’ girlfriend, the chorus could seem like a foreshadowing of Jones’ firing from the band by Strummer in 1983: “Did you stand by me?  No, way. No, not all.”

Song of the Week: “Hey Jude” – Wilson Pickett

 

 

Everyone knows The Beatles original version of “Hey Jude”.  Its extended ending is imbedded in our musical consciousness.  Lesser-known and nearly as great, is Wilson’s Pickett’s version of the song.

Pickett’s “Hey Jude” is full-on Gospel, something that The Beatles recording only hinted at.  (In fact, Gospel might be the only form of music that the Beatles couldn’t really tackle properly.  The Rolling Stones were much better at it.)  Starting off slow with a faint organ and soft guitar licks, Pickett’s voice is in fine form.  It’s loud and commanding, but also comforting.  When Pickett sings McCartney’s famous line, “the movement you need is on your shoulders” its feel like a helping hand will appear from heaven itself in a matter of seconds.

Wisely, Pickett decided not to recreate the famous coda of the song.  Instead he offers his own version.  As the song draws to its conclusion, the musics soars skyward with a rollicking, bluesy solo courtesy of Duane Allman.  For the last minute or so of the song, Pickett owns “Hey Jude” so much that for those last moments, you forget that the original was done by four lads from Liverpool.

Wednesday Lists: Top 10 Beatles Rockers

First off, let me state that I’m not a huge fan of “Revolution” or “Helter Skelter”, so if you’re wondering why they’re omitted that would be why.  In some cases, there are also songs that I feel get less attention and are under-rated.  I’m sure everybody has their own opinions about what The Beatles’ best rockers so here is mine.  If you agree or disagree, feel free to comment away!  (In no particular order.)

“Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey” 

The fourth track off The White Album is one of the Beatles’ fiercest rockers. Lennon and Harrison never sounded so riotous. The verses are noisy enough with each guitarist begging to be heard over the other, but it’s the last 30 seconds of the song that hit the hardest. On the surface, the lyrics seem like nonsense, but it one of many songs where Lennon addresses Yoko Ono.

“One After 909” 

“One After 909” is one the few Beatles songs in the latter part of their career that captures the energy and sound of their early albums and singles.  Of course there’s a reason for that: even though it was released on Let It Be, is actually one of Lennon and McCartney’s first written songs.  Harrison gets some amazing breaks, and despite all of the tension that was going on in the group when they recorded it, it’s sound like they’re having a blast.

“Paperback Writer”

Anybody who dismisses Paul McCartney’s skills on the bass should really listen to this song.  McCartney’s fluid leads drive the song, which was partially inspired by Lennon’s observation of loud bass sounds on a Wilson Pickett record.  McCartney also claims to have played the song’s famous opening riff.

“Polythene Pam”

The opening guitar riff is one of my favorite Beatles moments. It’s so harsh and forceful.  Lennon sounds possessed as he spits out the lyrics against some of Ringo’s most forceful drumming.  There’s some nice jamming and a cool solo by Harrison before the song segues into “She Came In Through the Bathroom Window”.

“I Saw Her Standing There”

It begins with a countdown that changed history.  “I Saw Her Standing There”, is one of the Beatles’ crowning achievements. It proved early on that Lennon and McCartney could write a song just as good as their rock and roll heroes.  No matter how many times you listen to it, it’s impossible not to get caught up their giddiness.

“Anytime At All”

I’ve always thought that Ringo was under-appreciated as a drummer.  While his beat here isn’t wholly original in style, his playing here is quite furious and driving.  He slams his way in right from the beginning, providing the perfect introduction for Lennon and McCartney’s call and response.  Later on the chorus, Starr’s playing matches the pleas of the dueling lead singers.

“The End”

Does it get any better than having McCartney, Lennon and Harrison all trade guitar solos for the final song of their final album?  Didn’t think so.

“Hey Bulldog”

Another song along the same lines as “Monkey”.  The memorable riff cuts right through the speakers, and McCartney gives one of his best bass lines.  I also love how the riff is played with different guitars and effects at various times throughout the song and each part sounds entirely different.

“I Feel Fine” 

Ahhhh, feedback.  This song gets a lot of attention due to the screeching sound on Lennon’s guitar, which is apparently the first recorded use of feedback on record.  But what really makes this song stand out for me is the intricate guitar work throughout the entire song and Lennon’s effortlessly melodic vocals.

“I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”

Easily one of my favorite Beatles’ songs.  Lennon never sounded so desperate and pleading. The fact that there are less than 20 words, and the same guitar riff is repeated over and over for over 3 minutes and the song is still captivating is nothing less than extraordinary.  Also, be careful where you listen to this song: the last 3 minutes could make you paranoid depending on the circumstances and location.

23: The Age of Rock Genius?

I recently turned 30. Somebody asked me if I felt any different, or expected to have a crisis of age.  I don’t feel any different, yet.  If somebody had asked me the same question when I turned 23, I might have answered differently.

Music has always defined much of my life – whether its through albums obsess over, songs I know by heart, or random bits of music trivia.  Because of this, turning 23 was a turning point. 23 was the age when many of my idols made albums that not only defined them, but in some cases rock and roll altogether.

Some of these artists already had established careers, and reached a turning point.  Bob Dylan recorded Bringing it All Back Home at the age of 23 – an album which is a watershed moment in not only his career, but was pivotal in folk and rock. Dylan himself has said that he caught lightning in a bottle during that period, and even now wouldn’t be able to write a song like “It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)” if he tried.  Similarly, Van Morrison coming off of the success of Them, recorded his immortal and beautiful Astral Weeks, an album that unfolds with each subsequent listen.  Paul McCartney was also 23 when The Beatles recorded Revolver, and much of Sergeant Pepper. 23 was also the age when Brian Wilson created The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, which might arguably be the best straight-up pop album ever made.  And who can forget Phil Spector’s beloved Christmas album A Christmas Gift For You From Phil Spector, which released a month shy of his 24th birthday?

For others, 23 was the beginning of a long illustrious career.  Elvis Costello’s debut My Aim Is True, was released in 1977 the year he turned 23.  Though Costello would make better records later on, none of them match the immediacy of that album which combined punk rock with a spirited lyricism.  In 1983, the then 23-year-old Michael Stipe sang and mumbled his way through R.E.M.’s Murmur, which would become a watershed in alternative and college rock.

Though I probably shouldn’t judge myself by what others have done at certain ages, it’s interesting to see how ages can affect people.  23 isn’t quite as romantic as 16 or 17, but in the case of the artists mentioned above it perhaps represents a “make it or break it” moment.  Technically, by the age of 23 you are an adult, but there’s still the fire of youth which is represented in these songs and albums.

 

 

Remembering George Harrison Ten Years Later

When I first heard the news that George Harrison had died, I was a sophomore in college.  It was late at night and I probably should have been writing a paper, but instead I was spending the night downloading U2 concerts from their then current Elevation Tour from the internet. To pass the time, I clicked on the Yahoo news site and saw the headline that Harrison had passed away.

It seems significant now that I was listening to U2 when Harrison passed away. Without Harrison’s forays and interests in religion, U2 as we know them now would not exist.  Harrison’s quest for something more than rock and roll left a mark on anyone who has ever expressed some sort of spirituality in their lyrics. Harrison’s spirit runs throughout the soul searching of The Joshua Tree, Pete Townshend’s need to connect the audience and a higher power through much of The Who’s work, and even Bob Dylan’s Christian period.

At the time of Harrison’s death, I wasn’t as familiar with The Beatles’ catalog as I am now, but his passing still struck me.  Another Beatle had died. John Lennon was killed almost exactly a year before I was born, so for my entire life the Beatles had always been Paul, George and Ringo. Even though they were no longer playing together, the three remaining remembers sporadically got together over the years including the amazing interviews for The Beatles Anthology. There was always a sense that their spirit was still alive as long as the three of them remained.

Over the last ten years as I dug deeper into The Beatles catalogue and Harrison’s own, I realized what an interesting character, and guitar player he was. As a guitar player, he made every note count and it was executed with such precision and delicacy.  Not many guitar players are as innovative and tasteful as Harrison was.  I’ve never been a huge fan of “Let It Be” – it’s way too sincere for my tastes – but Harrison’s solo on the song has never failed to move me.  Even on the popper early singles, Harrison’s playing elevated the guitar to new heights. One of my favorite Harrison moments is his playing on “I Need You” off of Help!  where he used a volume pedal to create a sort of scratching sound that perfectly suits the plea of the lyrics.

For Harrison to be revered the way he is in a band with two absolute geniuses, is nothing short of remarkable.  I’ve often wondered what many of the songs off All Things Must Pass would have sounded like if The Beatles had recorded them. As it is though, All Things Must Pass remains one of my favorite albums of all time for its scope and beauty. Lennon may have had the more challenging career, and McCartney may have made more popper songs, but All Things Must Pass is the one post-Beatles album that really gets inside your soul.

 

Song of the Week: “Safe European Home” – The Clash

If I had to give a list of my favorite opening songs off an album, The Clash’s “Safe European Home” would be at the top of the list. With its menacing guitar lines, call and response, and one of Joe Strummer’s most frantic vocals “Safe European Home” starts off The Clash’s second album, Give’Em Enough Rope with a bang.

It’s not that far off the mark to call Strummer and Jones the punk version of Paul McCartney and John Lennon. The two worked together extremely well, but also had entirely different visions of what The Clash should sound like.  Strummer was the idealist and was the driving force behind much of the Clash’s political ideology, while Jones was musical visionary.

Before recording Give’Em Enough Rope, Strummer and Jones headed off to Jamaica (leaving drummer Topper Headon and bassist Simonon behind, much to their chagrin) for some inspiration. Unfortunately, they felt extremely out of place and found the entire experience disheartening. The lyrics of “Safe European Home” recount their failed trip, in a humorous and snide manner.

Well, I just got back an’ I wish i never leave now 
who dat martian arrival at the airport yeah?
how many local dollars for a local anaesthetic?
the johnny on the corner wasn’t very sympathetic.  

Right after Strummer snarls each line, Jones calls out: “Where’d you go?” in his softer more pristine voice. As Strummer delivers each line, the story unfolds and the listener (along with Jones) want to know more. The call and response between the two only adds more drama to the situation. Strummer finally answers Jones’ question during the chorus:

I went to the place where every white face is an
invitation to robbery
sitting here in my safe european home
don’t wanna go back there again.

For a band that was known to condemn racism and were flag-bearers of social injustice, if Strummer is admitting that he felt like he was going to get robbed, you know it must have been bad.  The story ends with an exhausted Strummer proclaiming: “I’d stay and be a tourist, but I can’t take the gunplay!”

After this, the song implodes from its straight-forward attack. Jones is left alone for a few seconds, scrapping his guitar before the rest of the band join in. Strummer starts mumbling “rudie can’t fail” over and over (a reference to the Jamaicain Rude Boys) and as the music picks up, sounds like a man possessed. Mick Jones is also heard singing in the background, his vocals are hard to comprehend through the din. Topper Headon’s drum rolls during this section are the stuff of legend – he reportedly did it all in on take.  Just when the band sounds like they’re about to fly off into chaos, it’s just Strummer and Jones guitar for a few moments. Then unexpectedly, Headon comes back in with three more drum rolls and the song ends just as quickly as it came in.

 

Random Song of the Day: “Land of 1,000 Dances” – Wilson Pickett

If there’s ever a song that will automatically put me in a good mood, it’s Wilson Pickett’s version of “Land of 1,000 Dances”.  The song is bursting with energy that practically blows from the speakers. Paul McCartney might have the most famous count-off in rock history at the beginning of “I Saw Her Standing There”, but Pickett’s count-off comes in at a close second in my book. The sexual urgency in his voice as he calls out, “One two, three” not once, but twice is only hints at things to come.

Pickett’s band takes off in full flight. There’s a slight hint of chaos, but they’re so tight. The refrain of Charlie Chalmers and Andrew Love’s tenor saxophone playing can barely keep up with Pickett as he shouts out the differences dances. Then of course there’s the famous “na na na na na”  refrain (which wasn’t in the original version by Chris Kenner).  If there was ever a song that demanded audience participation, it’s Pickett’s version.

I first came across the song in The Great Outdoors (that ludicrous movie starring John Candy and Dan Aykroyd).  Come to think of it, Dan Aykroyd is probably responsible for exposing me to soul music in general with the Blues Brothers.  For years I always referred to it as “that song from The Great Doors‘.  Luckily, I don’t have that problem now.

As if the song couldn’t be any cooler, Patti Smith also includes several lines from the song in her song “Land” of her debut Horses.

 

Why The Early Beatles Albums Are Under-Rated

Chances are, if you ask anyone to name their favorite Beatles album they will probably reply with almost any album from 1965 on. Every single album after Help! was drastically different in its approach and sound. Rubber Soul and Revolver showed a “grown-up” version of the band ready to move beyond songs about love. Sergeant Pepper re-wrote the rules about what an album could be, and for better or worse made rock and form into a viable form of art. The White Album was a stark contrast to the Pepper’s excess as The Beatles embracing every genre under the sun. Abbey Road was a culmination of their entire career – it was an adult album, but the entire second half was a nod to their early pop days.

Since these albums changed popular music and the world, it seems as if their early albums tend to get lost in the shuffle. When was the last time you heard someone say their favorite Beatles album was Beatles For Sale, With The Beatles, or Please Please Me? It might be a bit simplistic, but unless you’re like to complete an artist’s catalog or grew up with the band, their early days seem to be reduced to images of appearing on Ed Sullivan or the singles collected on 1.

The general consensus seems to be that The Beatles really didn’t really make “albums” until Rubber Soul. Rock critics love to hammer this into the ground, as do fellow musicians. When Rolling Stone recruited various musicians, critics and other rock dignitaries to compile the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, Sergeant Pepper, The White Album, Rubber Soul and Revolver were all included in the Top 10. Abbey Road came in at 14 and it wasn’t until number 39 that Please Please Me was listed. The American re-hashing and reinterpretation of With The Beatles dubbed Meet the Beatles was included at 59, but after that the early Beatles albums disappear until Help! appears at 332, while A Hard Day’s Night comes in at 388. I could gripe for paragraphs about this list, but is The Neil Diamond Collection really better than Help! or A Hard Day’s Night?  

I suppose this shouldn’t really come as a shock since even The Beatles themselves have gone on record in preference of their later albums. Lennon in particular dismissed their early songs, wanting instead to create music that actually meant something and deal with more worldly problems than simple love songs.

It’s certainly easy to cut their career in two parts – the early “Beatle-mania” years, and the “studio” years. But to overlook their early records undercuts Lennon and McCartney’s early brilliance and enthusiasm for rock and roll.

Please Please Me, With the Beatles, Beatles For Sale, and A Hard Day’s Night all fly by with an irresistible and joyful energy that has rarely been equaled. They may not be as groundbreaking as Revolver or The White Album, but Paul and John’s ability to churn out song after song each one with an impeccable melody is no less than staggering. Even revered pop songwriters should be jealous of Lennon and McCartney’s consistency across these albums.

Now, to the actual albums.

Please Please Me starts with one of the best opening songs ever – the infectious “I Saw Her Standing There”.  There’s no way to not get caught up in McCartney’s yelps and whoops. Harrison also gives one of his best solos from the early period here as well. “Boys” is more rocking fun complete with Doo-Wop backing vocals. While some of the material has dated slightly – “Chains” in particular, the most impressive aspect of Please Please Me is how their original songs stand up to the R&B classic “Twist and Shout”.  Apparently, The Beatles recorded the entire album in a 24-hour period, which makes the performances even more impressive.

With The Beatles follow the same template as Please Please Me, but there are subtle differences.  The rockers are tighter and sharper especially “It Won’t Be Long” and “Little Child” which contains a pretty impressive Harmonica solo. With The Beatles might be the first Beatles album where they really proved that they could tackle various styles of music, while still maintaining their own identity. There’s R&B (the superb cover of “You Really Got a Hold On Me”), beautiful ballads (“Till There Was You”) straight up pop (“All My Loving”). Like Please Please Me, the originals on With The Beatles easily stand alongside the covers, which is no easy feat when you decide to play Chuck Berry’s “Roll Over Beethoven”.

A Hard Day’s Night (which is actually my favorite Beatles album) is the first album composed entirely of Lennon/McCartney originals.  The title track is one of the best songs the Beatles ever recorded, and a great showcase for the vocal interplay between the two lead singers. On “I Should Have Known Better” there’s a slight bittersweet quality, which would become of Lennon’s trademark qualities as the years went on. Paul displays a great leap in his songwriting with the immortal “Things We Said Today”.  Ultimately, A Hard Day’s Night retains the best elements of their early rocking years while also incorporating a more reflective side further explored on subsequent albums.

Beatles For Sale might be the weakest of their early albums, as the quality slips slightly. There’s still plenty of fun and joy throughout, but Lennon’s songwriter seems to take a slightly darker undertone on such songs, as “I’m a Loser”. Up until this album, The Beatles cover versions had been just as good (if not better in some cases) than the originals, but “Mr. Moonlight” is slightly embarrassing and goes nowhere. The best song on the album is “Eight Days A Week” which remains under-rated as far as I’m concerned, even if it is the most well known song on the album.

Help! is probably the album where The Beatles really tried to escape Beatle-mania for the first time. On the title track, for the first time Lennon shows his genius for combining a serious topic with a sweet melody, a gift that he would take to creative and artistic heights on “Imagine”.  “The Night Before” is one of Paul’s bounciest songs which I’ve always thought of as a sweeter and distant cousin to Bob Dylan’s “I Don’t Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met”). Speaking of Dylan, his influence is all over this record particularly the acoustic based “You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away”.  I haven’t mentioned Ringo yet, but on Help! his personality really begins to shine through. Those who dismiss him a crap drummer should listen again to his inventive drumming on the verses of “Ticket to Ride”. Plus he gets his first chance on lead vocals on the hilarious “Act Naturally” which acts as a counter-weight to the heavier songs like “Yesterday”.

After Help! The Beatles would shed new skin and completely come into their own and continue a string of creativity that has never been rivaled in popular music. But if they had stopped recording after Help! there’s no doubt in my mind that they still would be considered the greatest band to ever exist.

Beady Eye – Stealing From The Beatles Even More Than Oasis

I have to admit that I have a bit of curiosity for Beady Eye, the group that Liam Gallagher formed since his brother Noel Gallagher split from Oasis.  Truth be told, I probably wouldn’t have even known that he had formed another band if it weren’t for my occasional reading of British Rock magazines such as Mojo, Uncut, and Q.  Unlike US rock magazines, the British rock world hasn’t seem to have gotten tired of the Gallagher’s antics.

Oasis’ place in rock history isn’t quite as cemented as the British press would have you believe.  Their first two albums (Definitely Maybe and (What’s the Story )Morning Glory?) are great, but not life-changing.  But post-Glory, the most interesting thing about the band was the flares between the two brothers.  But despite the name-calling their drama can easily  be summed up by Noel’s hubris over his songwriting, and Liam’s insistence of being a “real” rock star.

Different Gear, Still Speeding sounds like Paul McCartney discovered some long lost Beatles demos and gave them to Liam Gallagher.   But at least Noel had the instinct to slightly cover up his Beatles’ obsession with loud guitars, and the occasional slight detour into the Manchester sound as if to prove he listened to new music post-1975.  But on Beady Eye’s debut, Liam not only takes cues from The Beatles, he’s even retained some of the Fab Four’s sonic textures.  George Harrison’s ghost plays some pretty great riffs, and busts out some pretty fantastic solos. “Millionaire” is  probably the song George Harrison wrote after his tax problems.  “The Roller” takes cues from Lennon’s White Album-era songwriting.  And “Bright Light” is a Paul McCartney rave-up on the likes of “I’m Down” and “The Night Before”.   Even the names of the songs themselves don’t disguise the younger Gallagher’s love for The Beatles. “Three Ring Circus” – “Being For The Benefit of Mr. Kite”, anybody?  And there’s no way “Wigwam” isn’t taken from the lyrics of “Hey Bulldog”: “Wigwam, frightening of the dark”

Of course, it’s kind of redundant to pick apart Gallagher’s obsession with The Beatles. When Oasis came out, it might have seemed that some people forgot about The Beatles, or didn’t view them as cool – I’m looking at you, Seattle.  Circa 1994-1995, Oasis filled a void of classicist pop that was missing, at least from American shores.  Since then, sales of Beatles albums and collections have soared, so it remains to be seen whether people will still be interested in a Beatles retread band without the drama.