I went to my first concert when I was eight or nine to see a Beatles tribute band at the local performing arts center. Peaking between the row in front of me I sunk deeply into the illusion. When I closed my eyes, I could imagine the apparition of John, Paul, George and Ringo playing in front of me. Every detail from their voice inflections, wigs, costumes and on-stage mannerisms were convincing to my family of die-hard fans. The show was so much more than a concert. It was part theater and part history lesson showcasing their evolution from pop icons during the height of Beatle-mania to the imaginative psychedelic-induced era of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Songs from Let it Be appropriately closed the show. The evening stuck out as the closest I’d come to seeing my all-time favorite band perform live.
The global Beatle fandom overlapped in the venn-diagram of my Filipina-American upbringing. My parents, young teenagers in rural Candelaria, became huge fans of the four lads from Liverpool. They grew up listening to them and naturally their appreciation of the band was passed onto my brother and I. Lyrics to Norwegian Wood and Yesterday were the dominating languages in our household. Our shared passion bridged the gap for us generationally and culturally.
Sundays were for aimless driving around town listening to Joe Johnson’s Beatle Brunch on the local oldies radio station. We made a tradition of taking turns answering trivia and listening to the same interviews they had on rotation until we could quote from every sound bite. In the back of our old volvo with the broken a/c, life was simple. I didn’t think much of where we were going. We could hit all the red lights and get stuck behind church traffic. It didn’t matter when our favorite songs were on the radio.
Many summers growing up in Florida were punctuated by backyard pool parties with Rubber Soul was on repeat. I assumed the same went for all my classmates and couldn’t fathom that some of my friends never actually heard their music. As a pre-teen who freshly discovered MTV and VH1, I realized that modern music didn’t compare to the sweet spot of the sixties/seventies. In my little world, the Beatles were as current and happening as Britney Spears.
The influence of the Beatles followed me into adulthood. I took the advice of thinking long and hard about my first tattoo and placing it somewhere easily hidden – something I can’t say I followed with the other seven. Across the Universe lyrics felt right. A timeless, dreamlike song with words I’d still adore seeing across my rib cage when I’m old and gray.
The moment I was certain I was in love with my partner was while listening to Till There Was You in his dorm room. We were sharing the same headphones laying close enough to hear each other’s heartbeats. The lyrics I heard Paul sing many times before suddenly clicked into place like the last puzzle piece. “A-ha! So this what the Beatles were singing about all this time.”
Rain came down hard the morning of our wedding. As though on cue, the clouds parted while Here Comes the Sun echoed off the redwoods as I walked down the aisle. I later had my first dance with my Dad In my Life under twinkly lights. He introduced me to these songs as a little girl. I keep on listening. I reach for their albums during road trips and dishwashing out of muscle memory, just how my parents had.
Needless to say, seeing a Beatle perform live was a pipe dream of mine. The odds felt similar to winning the lottery. Something far out of reach in the clouds. I’m a dreamer but I’m not much of a gambler.
Much to my surprise, I scored a pair of tickets to Paul McCartney’s Got Back Tour two days before the concert. Even more surprising was I didn’t need to sell an organ or sacrifice a month’s rent to do it. In the opening of his show he mentioned it had been twenty years since he last performed at the Oakland arena. The night was serendipitous. I had won the lottery.
Fast forward a few weeks and I’m still coming off the high from seeing a dream come to life. Jordan and I half-joke that it was even better than our wedding night.
Funny enough, I’d been passively avoiding arena concerts. I had little interest in the massive crowds and bumper to bumper parking. It all seemed like a bigger hassle than it was worth. I had no idea the experience from the nosebleeds could still be overwhelmingly personal and moving. Of course, if there was one artist in the world to change my mind, it would be a Beatle.
It’s hard to put into words what it was like being in the presence of someone so influential in my life. Paul was full-energy, charisma and showmanship on that stage. I wanted to commit it all to memory. For someone pushing 80, he showed little signs of slowing down. For nearly three hours I sat in awe as he played without a break. Performing is in the man’s DNA.
I watched the Disney+ Documentary Get Back both at home and at a special live theater viewing with a streaming Q&A with Peter Jackson. Apparently 8+ hours was clearly not enough Beatles content for me. Coming off the heels of the doc’s success, he played Let It Be and Get Back as expected. But he also played so many other beloved classics – dating as far back as Can’t Buy Me Love and Love me Do. Blackbird and over a dozen other Beatles songs made my heart skip a beat with each familiar opening chord. Obli-di-obla-da was the one to get the entire crowd up off their seats. The silly song I usually skipped over ended up being one of my favorites to hear live. It was more of a scream-along than sing-along , in the best way possible. The set was a fulfilling mix of mostly Beatles tunes, Wings greatest hits and a few new songs to keep the audience on their toes.
The most heartwarming moments were during tributes to George and John. He traded his acoustic guitar for the ukulele George gifted him. Paul shared that his friend had amassed a collection of them in his lifetime. Soon after Paul heard him first play Something, he came over George’s place and they played a tender rendition together on the ukulele. I felt let it on a secret after he played it for us. It was like getting a glimpse into their friendship we weren’t usually privy to. Mid-way through his playful strumming came the hauntingly beautiful electric guitar riff and the drums that are still pounding in my soul. The chills haven’t left my skin since.
Frank Sinatra famously labeled Something as the “most romantic song of the last 50 years.” It comes as no surprise that it’s written by my favorite Beatle. I’ve had my phases with each member, but George is the one I’ve grown to appreciate the most as an adult. After reading a biography and attending a talk by the author, Joshua Greene, a decade ago, my view of the “shy mysterious” Beatle changed. Yes, he was the most private member and the most interested in walking away from fame, but he was also the one that I deeply connected to. The gentle way he lived off-stage when he hoped no one was watching said so much more about him then any interview or photo could. He was one of the major reasons I became vegetarian and took to a dedicated yoga practice. Not to mention, he had an impeccable sense of style. I aspire to have a closet as cool as his one day.
Paul later shared how uncommon it was for men of his time to share their feelings with their friends. Here Today was a ballad he’d written for John after he passed away. It was as much a letter to his friend as it is a cautionary life lesson to listeners. Tell people how you feel about them while they’re with us.
Later in the evening Paul got to share a special duet with John. Peter Jackson isolated John’s vocals during his rooftop concert performance of I Got A Feeling. Seeing John projected on the screen, wind in his hair for their last live performance together felt so tangible. It was a healing moment that mended my heart back together again.
Before the show began a guy in the row behind me mentioned that his dad was at the Shea Stadium concert in 1965. I was among thousands of life-long fans that grew up on his music who gathered to relive their youth. I too felt younger that night. Music connects us and can be passed down like stories for generations. It was so much more than a concert. I watched a moment of history unfold in front of me. That’ll be something fun to tell the nieces and nephews and grandkids one day.
I’ll always have that night in Oakland, my evening with a Beatle.
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