Notes on music, arts, drinks, culture, and San Francisco
Written by mikl-em (writer, technologist, theater artist, event producer, & social cacophonist)
Friday, November 30, 2001
Before I was a Waits-head, way before I was into punk, before rap existed or techno or slowcore or mathrock, and decades before I began mycurrent infatuations with reggae, dub, minimal electronica, and turntablism, I loved the Beatles. I used to play my parents albums (and probly scratch the hell out of 'em), listening for hours to Abbey Road, the White Album & Sgt. Pepper's. Rubber Soul (along with Highway 61 Revisited) was one of the first albums that I owned myself and played on a rinky-dink Mickey Mouse (literally) record player. "Think for yourself / cuz I won't be there with you" is the only George Harrison penned song on that album. He was always my favorite Beatle--probably cuz I identified with him: quiet and seeming like the underdog. I used to take the Beatles very seriously, and George was, as an individual, always the prime focus of my attention. There was the air mystery and reliability to him. He's gone now. And I am thinking, and remembering.
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