I've never been a particularly huge fan of the Beatles - "moderate" is a more appropriate adjective, I suppose - however I, like 75% of people born after 1965, would have to credit them as being the first "grown-up" music I remember appreciating.
I heard my first Beatles song when I was five. It was featured in a movie ("When I'm Sixty-Four" in Oh God, You Devil, if I remember correctly) and although this was right around the time when I was still listening to my The Muppet Show and Bert and Ernie records, the song was happy, sweet and catchy enough to have me immediately hooked. My father - who was probably thrilled that I liked something that didn't involve talking puppets - nurtured that appreciation by digging his old vinyl copy of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band out of the basement so I could add it to my tiny music collection.
I have a particularly vivid memory of being in my bedroom with my mother, terribly sick from a horribly bad bout of the stomach flu, while this song played in the background. My mom was doing her best to comfort me, and I remember being hit with the realization that, at some point, she would be sixty-four years old. That, eventually, I would be too. And that when that time comes, I knew that I'd still love her and she'd still love me, even if that meant that we'd be feeding each other baby food while sitting in wheelchairs.* To a sick four-year-old, this revelation was equal parts comforting and terrifying.
So, I suppose you could say that "When I'm Sixty-Four" was not just my introduction to "real" music, but it also made me realize the depth of love one was capable of having for another person while simultaneously making me come to grips with my own eventual mortality.
Not too bad for a silly little pop song, eh?
*Keep in mind that to a five-year-old, being sixty-four means having one foot in the grave.
I heard my first Beatles song when I was five. It was featured in a movie ("When I'm Sixty-Four" in Oh God, You Devil, if I remember correctly) and although this was right around the time when I was still listening to my The Muppet Show and Bert and Ernie records, the song was happy, sweet and catchy enough to have me immediately hooked. My father - who was probably thrilled that I liked something that didn't involve talking puppets - nurtured that appreciation by digging his old vinyl copy of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band out of the basement so I could add it to my tiny music collection.
I have a particularly vivid memory of being in my bedroom with my mother, terribly sick from a horribly bad bout of the stomach flu, while this song played in the background. My mom was doing her best to comfort me, and I remember being hit with the realization that, at some point, she would be sixty-four years old. That, eventually, I would be too. And that when that time comes, I knew that I'd still love her and she'd still love me, even if that meant that we'd be feeding each other baby food while sitting in wheelchairs.* To a sick four-year-old, this revelation was equal parts comforting and terrifying.
So, I suppose you could say that "When I'm Sixty-Four" was not just my introduction to "real" music, but it also made me realize the depth of love one was capable of having for another person while simultaneously making me come to grips with my own eventual mortality.
Not too bad for a silly little pop song, eh?
*Keep in mind that to a five-year-old, being sixty-four means having one foot in the grave.
Labels: music, saturday songs
1 Comments:
nice post. i love to hear about the power of music in people's lives. that's awesome.
Post a Comment
<< Home