As a firm Beatles enthusiast, I feel secure in saying that I am quite tired of the (somewhat unnecessay, I should think) attempt at Beatles revival. The illusion is almost enough to make you forget that some of the best parts of Beatlemania (off of the top of my head I will offer go-go boots, a discrete outlet for socially and sexually repressed young women, the complete set of four living band members) are not part of this newfangled craze.
I am, of course, talking about the release of the Rock Band tribute/version devoted to The Beatles. The media frenzy surrounding the release of the game last week was not surprising, considering that if combined two of the essentials of pop culture: good music and video games that ape and misconstrue the process of creating that music.
A disclaimer is probably required to dissuade rumors about my general grumpiness and preaching. I am not remotely suggesting that the music of The Beatles is unworthy of the tribute, a claim that I can make with all of the assurance of a person wearing an oversized "Let it Be" sweatshirt.
My history with The Beatles is long, and fittingly, sappy. My high school years, dubbed by many as the best four years of their lives, would in my case be better branded the Fab Four years of my life. Every morning I climbed into my Chevy Blazer (color: faded black) armed with ample angst and five homemade CDs labeled in sloppy cursive, "Beatles, misc." Driving the two-lane country roads to school each morning I rocked out without abandon, belting out lyrics that I would have found sentimental coming from anyone else. My younger sister, an altogether hipper person than I, quailed before my boundless nostalgia.
As a teenager I liked to pretend that listening to The Beatles was something cutting edge and unique, conveniently forgetting the predominance of "classic rock" in my childhood and my mother's adolescent longing for Paul.
As an adult (albeit one who is required by her living situation to keep her gaudy Beatles alarm clock in the more remote areas of the house due to conflicting ideas of taste) I'm willing to acknowledge that The Beatles do not belong exclusively to me. I am not, however, quite ready to acknowledge Beatles Rock Band.
I know, I know; all people everywhere love Rock Band. And nearly as universally, people everywhere love The Beatles. And so it is fitting that the two worlds should collide. I'm just not sure that it should be as large a production as is being made of it.
There are several reasons for my unease. The first is a selfish and outlandish point, so I will tuck it away quickly and with as little fanfare as possible. In plain English it reads thus: I am so tired of people playing Rock Band in bars.
A few weeks ago, on the eve of the Beatles Rock Band release, my boyfriend and I were walking past a bar in a college town, one which I remembered as being rather hip (read: cover charge). That evening, however, we paused on the sidewalk not to watch well-dressed college students mingling on the patio, but to listen to the terrible rendition of "Tax Man" being belted out by two completely sloshed frat boys in graphic tees.
"Wow," my boyfriend deadpanned for the benefit of the crowd gathering on the street. "A Beatles concert."
While I'm ready to admit that drunken karaoke is an important part of bar culture, there is something that doesn't sit well with me about the growing presence of Rock Band terminals in drinking establishments. Perhaps it is that people are more desensistized by the familiar R.B. set up, and therefore encouraged to strut their stuff. Or perhaps it is that I associate bars with adult activities (drinking) and games that are either a little dangerous (darts), or lend themselves to phallic punning (billiards). Video games (for my most inflammatory statement yet) seem more fitting in places with lots of kiddies, like movie theater arcades or pizza parlor lobbies. But I promised little fanfare on this point, so I will move on.
My second protest with the chaos surrounding the release of Beatles Rock Band is the implication that the purchasing of the game with be in tribute to The Beatles, a new venue for appreciating those familiar tunes. Although this is probably true economically, I take some issue with the spirit of the statement. It seems to me that the very set-up of R.B. is not intended to encourage the individual appreciation of music for music's sake. Rock Band instead creates a realm (and a scoring system) in which people can quantify their ability to "appreciate" a song (at levels beginner, medium, or hard) and then compare their appreciation with that of their friends.
And, to extend my rising sense of drama, I would go as far to suggest that playing Rock Band is not a tribute to any band or artist lauded (as The Beatles are) as being revolutionary. Perhaps I am overly sentimental, but it seems to me a more fitting tribute to the creative process is a creative process, or rather, something more creative than following dashing colored lights that never change with repeated plays of the same song. Go on and buy the game; it's all the same to me. But just don't do dashing around feeling too noble about it.
My final point is a small one and takes issue with the much-anticipated graphics of the game. I've seen of some videos of footage on Youtube, and they do seem slick as hell. Maybe a little too slick. When I think The Beatles, I think line drawings, pastel colors and rapidly undulating checkered backgrounds. But perhaps that is just me.
Image provided below for those who have forgotten what pastels are like:
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