I guess I felt attached to my weakness. My pain and suffering too. Summer light, the smell of a breeze, the sound of cicadas–if I like these things, why should I apologize. The same with having a beer with you…
Haruki Murakami, A Wild Sheep Chase
Some rivalries are lopsided: Coke versus Pepsi. Globetrotters versus Generals. Roadrunner versus Coyote. And despite both bands’ critical and commercial successes, the Beatles versus The Rolling Stones can be included on that list as well.
A hundred years from now, the Fab Four will still be the quintessential rock band. “Ruby Tuesday” is charming, but “Yesterday” is legendary. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and Abbey Road are seminal works that define not only the rock genre but music as a medium.
But liking the Beatles is fairly meaningless. Their work has been absorbed by the popular culture. Enjoying the White Album says as much about you as eating at McDonald’s; you would sometimes prefer to listen to harmonious sounds than silence. As Stephen Hayden explains in Your Favorite Band Is Killing Me, “If I’m honest, I’ll admit to being a Stones guy because being a Stones guy just seems more interesting. Loving the Beatles is ordinary by comparison; it says nothing about you other than your unquestioning acceptance of inevitable truths. Siding with the Beatles is like siding with gravity.” I wish I was a Stones guy.
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