That Means A Lot.

Last night I fell in love with The Beatles all over again.

I can't remember when I first heard them, although I suspect it was when I was fairly young and probably watching the cartoon series on TV. I know my uncle was a fan and he certainly shared a lot of my musical taste. But I've loved their music as long as I can remember.

I was three when they played their last live show, and six when they broke up. As a teenager I always hoped they would re-unite and I'd get the chance to see them live. That dream was shattered in December 1980.

Some consider me a bit of an expert on The Beatles. I've read as much as I can on them, I collect their music and recordings, videos, interviews and other assorted stuff. I've written articles on them, written stories based on them (or at least inspired by them) - even been acknowledged in a Beatles book.

One of the highlights of my life is the afternoon I spent in Abbey Road studios. I sat at the console in Studio 2, stood where they recorded much of their work and even played the piano Paul used on Lady Madonna.

I've never really been into tribute bands - I guess I always figured they weren't the real thing. And so in all my time as a Beatles tragic, I've never been to see a Beatles cover band.

Until last night.

I made the decision to go and see The Bootleg Beatles in the city. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I figured since I'd never really get to see the real thing, why not go and have some fun and hear these songs live. What I didn't expect was to become so emotional during the first number. The Bootlegs walked out on stage, velvet collared suits like the '63 fabs, and played a spot-on rendition of I Wanna Hold Your Hand. It choked me up completely. And then they continued with three costume changes and two-and-a-half hours of perfect musical replicas of the originals.

The banter, mannerisms, movements were authentic. And there were plenty of little nuances in there that only a Beatles trainspotter like myself would have noticed.

Thanks, Bootleg Beatles. You made a dream of mine (virtually) come true.

The Angry One.

As you may recall, I was lucky enough to find myself inside Abbey Road studios a couple of years ago. When I first entered the holy place and was waiting at the reception counter, I stood next to some guy who was opening a stack of envelopes and checking the mail. What made this ultra cool, though, was the letters were all addressed to Sir George Martin. To me it was a moment of surrealism, a moment when I felt connected personally to the Fabs. I mean, here I was standing next to the guy who opened mail for the guy who produced The Beatles.

With my wife and our host, I toured all three studios guided by the studio manager. She was able to share lots about the studios, both technically and historically, but I more than held my own when it came to geekdom and useless trivia.  At one point she pointed to some pictures on the wall, and identified the artists. The Goons, Cilla Black, Sir Malcolm Sargent. (All of which I knew.) There was, however, one group that she didn't know.  I was able to identify them, though.  At another point she told me she wasn't sure whether The Beatles had ever used Studio 3. I was able to state which songs were recorded there, and then had a similar conversation in Studio 1.

Yeah, I know I'm sad.  But I'm a Beatles nerd.

There is very little in the way of storage available at the studios, so the hallways are lined with instruments. As we passed a couple of pianos and an organ, the manager just tapped them and said "Lady Madonna, Billy Preston, A Day in the Life.  Would you like to play any of these?"

I don't think I drooled though I may have gasped audibly.  I did, however, have enough presence of mind to grab the opportunity to play a couple of chords on the Lady Madonna piano.  And it had that sound. You could instantly recognise the tones.

As we were leaving, I asked my wife what the date was. She replied it was the 4th of January. "Wow", I said. "Thirty-seven years ago today the Beatles had their last ever session here. George played the guitar overdubs to Let It Be." At this point our host said, "You need to get a life!  Ride a bike, or something." And grinned. I guess he was kind of impressed, in the same way people are 'kind of' impressed by road accidents.

Let It Be was released in two versions. The single with the softer guitar solo, and the album track with the overdubbed 'angry' solo.  I believe there were plans at one stage to release the song with the two solos on different channels, but it never eventuated.

But last week, as I started teaching myself the 'angry' solo, I recalled the afternoon I spent in the studio. A bunch of kids at school, the keyboard ensemble,  have chosen to play Let It Be at a concert. And their music teacher has asked me to accompany them on stage. It didn't take long to figure out - but I want to nail the thing so I get it right on the night.

OK, it's not Woodstock, but it's a gig.  And I know I'll have fun.  I only hope I do credit to George Harrison.