Few bands have had their music and legacy commercialized, merchandized, and downright exploited by money-snatching opportunists as the Beatles have. Sure, the Fab Four are undoubtedly one of the most influential and groundbreaking groups in the history of popular music, but they broke up 40 years ago. Do we really need a Beatles’ edition of the video game Rock Band? Talk about milking the cash walrus.
So when I read about the upcoming September 9th release (the very same day as the video game) of the Beatles’ studio albums in remastered form, my first thought was, “Finally, the ‘protectors’ of that heralded (yet effectively half-dead) band give us something we really want.”
If nothing else, the simultaneous release of the Beatles’ remastered studio albums and video game presents an opportune moment to reflect on how a legendary band’s fame ought to be dealt with post-breakup.
In my opinion, it comes down to one thing: the music. The countless Beatles lunchboxes, messenger bags, jigsaw puzzles, and shot glasses aren’t just gaudy or annoying—they’re inappropriate and even exploitative.
To start with, two of the band members are dead. Presumably, Paul and Ringo have to approve any merchandising ventures, but who knows what poor John and George would think of this entire commercialistic hullabaloo.
Second, it seems cruelly ironic that gratuitous merchandizing has marked the legacy of a band that stopped touring because the money-making machine surrounding them had gotten so out of control that no one seemed to care about their music any more.
Paul and Ringo clearly support these merchandizing ventures. But both have also exploited their own legacies by releasing some truly abominable albums, so it seems that the integrity of the Beatles’ legacy needs to be protected even from the band’s remaining members, if only for the benefit of its dead ones and, of course, its fans.
And don’t even get me started on Yoko. Beatles lunchboxes are bad enough; plastering the drawings John did for his baby son on children’s furniture long after John’s death crosses the line. Also, it’s just plain creepy.
So, Paul, Ringo, and Yoko, let the music speak for itself. Let’s face it: the Beatles’ catalogue is due for a remastering; these sonic touch-ups enhance the music itself, a legitimate step to take 40 years out, considering the quantum leaps we’ve made in audio technology since 1969. Making a buck off of the Beatles’ legacy in any other way—particularly without the consent of half the band—is simply inappropriate.
The Beatles gave the world some of the best pop music ever crafted by human hands. Shouldn’t that be enough for us?
