What the hell was everybody celebrating a week or so ago? Beatles-mania was being foisted on to us by the media. It was the anniversary of something. I can't recall, nor would it matter because I just can't bring myself to give a shit.
Everybody loves the Beatles. Everybody pays homage to the Beatles. Everybody is indebted to the Beatles. It's all quite joyous and wonderful to be connected to the sire of popular music as we know it. The apex of two guitarists, one bass and a set of drums with its perfectly crafted verses and its undeniable chorus. Matching our jackets and hair, and putting forth an image that was designed to sell records. Our culture is secure. The harbingers of our highest cultural ascent made their way by selling themselves as the first boy band to diseased "little girls" that are incapable of a real sexuality because of the latent Victorian mores on sexuality that permeate. From the same population, young girls and women, that the cocaine-addled (perhaps rock star?) Sigmund Freud made his career and entered into our pop-cultural lexicon and thought patterns, so too did the Beatles -- perhaps the most well known band in the world. Where the impositions of human culture breed hostile, sterile and controlled lands, there's a black market of indecencies that become highly prized. The Beatles were like a bottle of cheap moonshine that makes you deaf, dumb and blind, but highly prized in the stifling air of prohibition. Everything human becomes pornographic -- the voyeurism of psychoanalysis and the relationship between the analyst and patient, alcoholism as an obsession and physical elation from the destruction of the senses, and the Beatles as an artificial sexual partner, something near a prostitute (always available, emotionally and relationally unresponsive, and a vessel for fetishistic fantasies, for pubescent girls that very often have no physical, cultural or symbolic modes of libidinal energy. The Beatles started their career as pornography.
So when I hear assholes talk about the Beatles, all I see is a bunch of servile cowards kissing their chains for providing such a convenient self-definition where musical expression is mechanically undertaken by the simple plucking of vibrations that form the specter of a chord progression that haunts our species eternally.
The Beatles are not musicians and are not artists. Maybe they were at one point, that's debatable, but it is irrefutable now that their works and image retain no likeness to that of legitimate artists. I fail to see the difference between Barbie and The Beatles at this point. They are highly marketed, vastly accessible, and quickly disposable commodities that ask no questions other than "how can I amuse you?" The lame attempt at spreading a sense of urgency or importance in regard to the Beatles was done seemingly so Guitar Hero could sell their new Beatles themed Guitar Hero pack. Now you too can play the "music" that you love so dearly by removing yourself from the creation of music into the mechanical, meaningless pursuit of adroit finger fondling to the sounds that has subjected us to a life of glorified elevator music.
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