52 Essentials: No. 15, Abbey Road (1969)
Welcome to Maps & Legends, a project by two new parents looking forward to sharing our favorite art and culture with our new edition. Each week in this space, we'll pick a personal favorite of ours (or at least a favorite of one of us) and write about what it means to us and why we're excited to pass it down.
This week, we're doing something a little different, our first guest post. My mother--Max's grandmother--has been absolutely killing it on Facebook lately, posting her daily thoughts in the form of well-constructed short stories. They're long as far as Facebook posts go, but they reward the short attention spanned reader with their thoughtfulness and deliberate structure. Her posts don't always go where you might expect, but they always take you somewhere beautiful (or, when she's on a political tear, thought-provoking and sometimes enraging).
Last week, she posted a memory of her older brother--an uncle of mine whom I've rarely seen in my life--and their mutual love of music. Pieces like this are invaluable to me as a glimpse of the world from my mom's point of view, and it's everything that I hope this website will one day provide for my son Max. Since the piece also focused on Abbey Road and how the album factored into her relationship with her brother, it was a perfect fit for our "52 Essentials" series.
So without further ado ... Ladies and Gentlemen, the Beatles!
* * * * *
What's on my mind this afternoon are memories of my brother Peter and myself and our love of music. Peter has been on my mind so much lately. I won't bore anyone with details, so just believe me when I say I miss him like the dickens, and I cannot shake a feeling that I need to speak with him. But, on to the memories:
Our son has a website Maps and Legends (Ed.: Hey, that's us!), where he posts interesting questions that provoke a lot of thought. It usually takes me a while, like days or weeks, to reach into my cluttered head and formulate a coherent response to his question (Ed.: It pays off, though, since her responses are always great!). One of his latest questions asked his readers to think of a work of art--be it music, or theater, or film, or print--that brings about strong, meaningful memories. They could be good memories, bad memories, or just plain unusual memories.
As it happens, I saw something last night that jogged my memory--an accompanied musical theme on TV that was taken from Abbey Road. Wow, did that ever strike a nerve! You see, I believe with all my heart that Abbey Road is the number one BEST EVER album that was ever created either THEN, or NOW, or in the FUTURE! How's that for an opinion?
It starts out with "Come Together"! A great way to start. It gets you interested, and anticipatory of what's next. Then, "Something" hits you right where it hurts the most. One emotion down. "Maxwell's Silver Hammer" props you back up again. "Oh, Darling" knocks you straight up. Then it's back to fun and relaxation with "Octopus's Garden." You think you are safe, but then "I Want You" brings you back to reality. You just know something else is coming soon.
Back when I first owned this album, there used to be what we called 'records'. I think the Millennials call them 'Vinyl' now (Ed.: Yeah Mom, or just "records." People still call them records these days.). Well, let me tell you that the real testament to this BEST EVER album is side two. I knew when I put on side two, I needed to sit down and just listen, because it never stops. "Oh, that magic feelin', no where to go" .... You sit, and you listen, and you let every emotion you possess wash over you until you hit the end where you are exhausted, and exhilarated, and thanking the Universe for giving you ears.
I don't know which selection I like the most on side two. I love how "Here Comes the Sun" starts it all off. But then each offering is better than the next, and each one makes a strong case for being the best. I only know that there is no way on Earth that side two could ever be "background music" for me. Whenever it's on, I absolutely HAVE to sit down, stop whatever I am doing, and just listen!! And, every single time I hear it, it's like the first time. It's as if I'm discovering something new with each play.
"Have you seen Polyethene Pam"...
Oh, here we go.
"She came in through the bathroom window....protected by a silver spoon, but now she's such a golden wonder......didn't anybody tell her, didn't anybody see...."
"..so I quit the police department, got myself a steady job..."
I can hardly stand it...it's so mesmerizing!
"Once there was a way to get back homeward."
Wow. How I wish that were true. How I love this album. How I love this music.
"And, in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make."
What I remember about Peter is all of the time we spent discussing music together. During one of his visits several years ago, after we had not seen each other for years, no matter what we started talking about, the subject always gravitated back to music. We found that as we aged, our likes and dislikes were still very much in sync with each other.
That's when we discovered that we both loved Gershwin. And Tchaikovsky. And Beethoven. And Van Morrison. And Willie Nelson. And ABBEY ROAD! He gave me a gift of Yehudi Menuhin performing Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, op. 35. It is one of the most beautiful, and moving performances I have ever heard. We talked about Serenade for Strings and how it affects our mood. We laughed about Willie Nelson and how, even though neither of us could tolerate country western music, we both still loved Willie. And, how Van Morrison's best recording was "Moondance." And about what a genius George Gershwin was, and which of his works was the best, and how he died too soon.
And then we would talk about ABBEY ROAD! He talked about how you could have the crummiest day at work, and come home and put on that album, and by the end of the hour you'd feel like a million bucks! He described all the emotions those songs brought out in him, just like they did in me. We talked about all the lyrics and the changes in tempo, and how you could be crying one minute and smiling the next. It was glorious!
I miss my 'almost twin' brother. We were born 15 months apart, and we were best friends as children. But then something happened, and I hope some day I will find out what. Until then, I wait with my list of favorite new artists and favorite old artists. It's just hard to hear some of the music we have in common and not yearn for days gone by, you know?