When the Beatles broke up officially, I was just nine years old. So though I am officially a Baby Boomer, the Beatles rightly belong to the generation before me. I had numerous older cousins and so the Beatles were, of course, in the very air that I breathed. I think that this is one of the many reasons that I never fully appreciated the Beatles as a kid. They were not “my generation’s” music.
I did have a number of Beatles 45s though, that my mother had given to me: “Let It Be”; “Hey Jude”; “Money Can’t Buy Me Love”; and “Somewhere.” They must have been songs that she liked… or at the very least, tolerated. I wore them out on my portable record player.
Flash forward years and understanding, and all of the appreciation I could not and would not have as a teen for the lads is now there. And I am richer for it.
“Let It Be” has been for a long time my all-time favorite song. The one I would want played at my funeral or wake. A couple of years ago at a Lutheran church (one that I occasionally attend with my wife but shall be left unnamed), the confirmands chose to have the congregation sing “Let It Be.” There was a small furor over it. A vocal minority (I assume a “minority,” but who knows) was angry because they believe it was “too Catholic” to be sung in church.
If there were any doubts about “Let It Be” remaining my favorite song for all time, it was finished there. Among its many other laudable qualities, “Let It Be” apparently reveals what Protestantism has really contributed to modernity… not a damn thing!
For the first Monday after Christmas, could there be a better song than “Let It Be”?