Tag: Yoko Ono

As talk of AI being the biggest threat to humanity (apart from climate change) since the invention of the atom bomb (also still a threat by the way), one very human aspect of life that’s been made more vulnerable than anything of late is music. More specifically, the wielding of AI to “make” artists sing any song a person wants them to. Hence, AI versions of Britney Spears singing Madonna or Lana Del Rey singing Nancy Sinatra or Billie Eilish singing Olivia Rodrigo, and so on and so forth. And yet, amongst all the negativity about the detrimental effects of this type of technology, a lone positive story to emerge is a resuscitated demo that John Lennon wrote in the late 70s called “Now and Then.” In the mid-90s, the other three living Beatles decided to turn Lennon’s demos into Beatles “reunion” songs for a project called The Beatles Anthology. Unfortunately, at the time, the technology wasn’t available to bring “Now and Then” up to par with the other previously unreleased singles that were included on the album, namely “Free As A Bird” and “Real Love.” And yes, funnily enough, the movie Now and Then came out in 1995 just like The Beatles Anthology. 

Luckily, in the wake of Peter Jackson making the documentary for Get Back, he and his team had developed a software system for separating/parsing out audio that they used throughout production. One that, at last, enabled the separation of John’s vocals from the piano on his demo, which was plagued with the cursed ​​60-Hz mains hum (one far louder than what the remaining trio found on “Real Love,” which had a similar, but more salvageable 60-Hz problem). And, since George Harrison was the one who had written “Now and Then” off as “fucking rubbish” during the first go-around of trying to make it into “something,” there wasn’t much effort put forth in trying to find a method, however fallible, to better the single. As Paul McCartney would then tell Q Magazine (RIP) in 1997, “George didn’t like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn’t do it.” But, clearly, that was for the best, as more time had to pass so that technology could catch up with the needs of “Now and Then” and its rough-hewn state. Plus, now that George has been out of the picture since 2001 (having died of lung cancer after surviving a brutal knife attack in 1999), a democracy of two is much easier to work with, and Ringo Starr has never been one to turn down a few extra bob. All of that said, the final product of “Now and Then” is nothing short of gut-wrenching. Particularly when paired with the accompanying music video (also directed by Jackson), awash with equal parts archival footage and what some would call a “nefarious” use of technology in that it revives John and George as, let’s call them, holograms. Younger versions of themselves that perform alongside Paul and Ringo for an effect that’s both eerie and poetic. And an effect that, of course, highlights the “now and then” theme through a contrast of Beatles at different ages.

Alas, Lennon will never be known beyond the age of forty (perhaps something he would call a blessing, likely poking fun at how Paul looks as an “elder” from on high). He is frozen in time just before that tipping point between “middle age” and outright “agedness.” Something about that lends an additional melancholy to the timbre of the song, imagining him writing it in the Dakota in 1977, when he would have been thirty-seven years old…and still relatively fresh from his “Lost Weekend” (from 1973-1974) with May Pang in Los Angeles. Hence, “Now and Then,” framed within its “in real time” context is yet another clear mea culpa directed at Yoko Ono. He couldn’t have known how the wisdom and lament of his words (even then at still such a tender age) would transmogrify in the future, one in which, had he lived, he would have been eighty-three years old. 

Although the lyrics were once aimed at being grateful for the salvation Lennon attributed to Yoko’s love, when taken into context as a project that was revived by the last living Beatles, it becomes a song about being appreciative/eternally tied to his bandmates. Thus, lyrics like, “​​I know it’s true/It’s all because of you/And if I make it through/It’s all because of you” transcend into Lennon’s grand thank you to the band for not only the success they shared together, but its continued ability to reanimate in new and unexpected ways. With Lennon now “making it through” once more because McCartney and Starr have willed it to be so. Indeed, in the official statement regarding the single, it is mentioned, “This remarkable story of musical archaeology reflects The Beatles’ endless creative curiosity and shared fascination with technology.” At least when it came to music and its manipulation. After all, The Beatles were always willing to tinker with their sound, usually courtesy of George Martin—which is how albums like Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Magical Mystery Tour, The White Album and Yellow Submarine came to fruition as the band was more prone to experimentation after their “teen heartthrob years” of the early to mid-60s. 

In the present context, The Beatles’ openness to experimentation has extended into AI technology, perhaps with more willingness than many of the younger musicians (apart from Grimes) that have expressed an aversion to it and what it might mean for the “purity” of one’s artistry. And with The Beatles still being a foremost “tastemaker” and “standard-setter” in the business, it means the floodgate has further opened in terms of embracing rather than bothering to rebuff the use of “cheating” with technology in music. What’s more, in a world that has already surrendered entirely to the ersatz, perhaps The Beatles are aware that “Now and Then” is actually more authentic than most of what gets released in the current landscape. By the same token, it’s easy to dismiss the dangerous effects of technology’s takeover in music when one has come to the end of their life, therefore the end of their musicianship. It’s sort of tantamount to boomers throwing a peace sign up to caring about climate change because they won’t be here for its most severe consequences anyway. 

Despite this, there’s no denying that “Now and Then”—billed, definitively, as “the last Beatles song”—will be a comfort across generations beyond the band’s own birth cohort. If time goes on even for another century, it will be as James (John Hannah) in Sliding Doors said: “Everybody’s born knowing all The Beatles’ lyrics instinctively. They’re passed into the fetus subconsciously along with all the amniotic stuff. Fact, they should be called The Fetals.” “Now and Then” has jolted listeners into remembering why, exactly, that is. 

Later in the song, still sparse with lyrics beyond the chorus in spite of its “clean-up” (ergo, the intense layering on of additional instrumentation), Lennon and McCartney sing, “And now and then/If we must start again/Well, we will know for sure/That I will love you.” That utterance “if we must start again” coming across as part of Lennon’s acerbic wit, which, in this instance, pertains to being dug up from the grave anew to “be a Beatle.” Yet, since the Fab Four did share such a unique experience together, their forever bond is still apparent even though half of the quartet is no longer with us. So it is that John is able to tell his brethren, from beyond the grave, “Now and then I miss you/Oh, now and then I want you to be there for me/Always to return to me/I know it’s true/It’s all because of you/And if you go away/I know you’ll never stay.” That last line being a peak Britishism/Lennonism in terms of wordplay and the exhibition of a cocksure ego. 

With The Beatles bringing back 1995 all over again with this reminder that everything old can be dusted off to be made new, The Beatles Anthology-style, it raises the question of whether or not John and George truly would “consent” to the use of this song. On the one hand, both were extremely “pro-fan,” yet, on the other, each was a meticulous artist who wanted their work to be a certain way. Nonetheless, one would like to believe that this “certain way” would have been sufficient to bring a smile to Lennon and Harrison’s face. If for no other reason than because AI has given them both a last gasp in the music biz.