So, like most every other American, European, Canadian, or some one with access to a radio or another human being, I become a fan of the Beatles in middle school. I was 12 and had just watched “A Hard Day’s Night” at my grandparents with an older cousin. And at that point, I knew that for the next million and a half years, I had to become obessed with this band.
This is a line that not all people cross–most stay somewhere between “Yeah, they’re great” and “Yeah, I have almost every album and have seen one of their movies.” This is a reasonable amount of love.
But I become crazied with everything that had to do with the Beatles. I read every book that our library had (Including “The Beatles” by Hunter Davies, the first offical biography, started when they were still playing music), had 15 t-shirts, could rattle off facts better than my multiplication tables: It was insanity.
Yet, they also become something sacred. I watched the Anthology when it aired on PBS for the first time and cried when it was over. I would defend their honor, their music; tell people that they weren’t just being high all the time; that Magical Mystery Tour held some kind of secret philosophy about life and love and that all the answers of the universe could be found in the grooves of Sgt Peppers on vinyl.
And then came Across the Universe. I went to see it opening week, and after convincing myself that my soul wasn’t really crushed into nothing by the end, I realized that they had become so legendary in our culture that not many yielded to the artistic respect that they deserve.
Double High Five to you, Rock Band! This looks awesome and I may think about getting an XBOX just so I can play this.