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Thoughts on Beatles impersonators
5.18.2001 by
I'm a Beatles fan.
I mean, honestly, who isn't (besides Stones fans). I even have it on good authority that Ash, prior to his slaughter-ponies-listen-to-the-Dead-Kennedys phase, was an avid Beatlephile, donning Lennon glasses and rockin' out old-school to Sgt Pepper.
So now, thirty years later, it's no surprise that Paul, George, Ringo (and John), top critics' (and fans') "best albums" lists, and find themselves able to carry their greatest hits compilation to Number 1. I still firmly believe that from the middle of their career onwards, the Beatles recorded some of the best music ever put on record, and no one has topped them yet.
It was these beliefs, then, that brought me to Major's Hill Park last Sunday, shivering cold, to listen to the Fab Four. Well... a band called the Fab Four.
While Elvis impersonators are infantile and stupid, it's obvious that competent Beatles impersonators are precisely the opposite. These four guys, besides lookin' like the Boys from Liverpool, talked like them and played like them. Given, John didn't take any heroin over the course of the show, and George didn't meditate, but it's as close the Beatles as I'll ever come, and it was, simply put, terrific.
The crowd was loving it, singing along, groovin' to the grooves, laughing and clapping and reminiscing. Six-year-old girls sang alongside grandmas, skaters and college intelligentsia relaxing to the mellow vibe of "Hey Jude" or "I Want To Hold Your Hand". As the sun went down and the band changed from suits to satin Sgt. Pepper gear, "All You Need Was Love" sounded to me like the polar opposite of the frustrating, running-on-the-spot aggression of the Nu-Metal band du jour. Wussy? Sure. But the boys and girls, men and women who stood there, smiling, were acting on an emotion far more pure, far more True, than the infantile posturing of Fred Durst and Eminem.
Yeah, you dudes are bad mothafuckas... but who gives a shit.
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