Get Back and the Art of “Weeding through the Shit”
In a past blog (“A Paperback Writer“), I described my lifelong love affair with the Beatles: their extensive music catalog, their films, their zany personas, and insane talent/chemistry. When young girls were fawning over New Kids on the Block (yes, I’m aging myself here), I was constantly rewinding my Help! videocassette to my favorite scene (the “fleeing London for the Bahamas” scene, where the foursome are cleverly disguised and talking about where they “aren’t going” to throw-off whoever is following them) and begging my dad to take me to their next Philly concert. As my maturity grew past their looks and dreamy British accents (never quite outgrew that; my husband says I married him for it), their keen story telling ability through lyrics caught my attention. A deeper appreciation surpassed the superficial, and they influenced me to take pen to paper. To start telling my own stories through the written word.
Needless to say, I was PUMPED for Peter Jackson’s Get Back documentary.
Not only was it the marriage of my two separate obsessions (The Beatles AND Lord of the Rings? HELLO!) but it was pulling back the curtain of mystique surrounding the most famous band of modern history. The 60+ hours of unreleased audio and video footage on the making of their last studio album, compiled into a feature film, was promised to be unbridled access to the genius of the Beatles. Yes, bits and pieces were used as intended at the time—a televised “Making Of” piece with a surprise live-concert as the grand finale before the album release—but how the majority of this footage remained under wraps for fifty-two years BLOWS my mind.
(After seeing it, I sort of understand why…we’ll get there)
As I said, the documentary was set for a huge theatrical release. But like most films slated to be released during Covid, plans had to be pushed (I believe the original release date was Summer 2020) and then scraped all together. I haven’t been to the movies since…maybe 2019, but I was fully on-board with dragging (I say dragging but the reality is we would’ve made plans and he would’ve called me every day leading up to it, talking about how much popcorn he was going to eat and how excited he was) my dad to our local theater to enjoy Beatlemania together. Luckily, Disney+ picked up the streaming rights and Peter Jackson’s team re-edited their film into a 3-part series, totaling almost 8-hours of air-time. I’m a fan of Peter Jackson so I know he can’t “do” short films, but Jesus! 8-hours? Even with the streaming availability, that is a commitment and a half! Especially with a toddler running around and at this stage in my pregnancy, I barely make it through an episode of The Witcher (Season 2—AMAZING!!)
Being the fan that I am, I’m pretty ashamed to say that I didn’t binge watch the entire thing on November 25th (the Disney+ release date). The Christmas holiday was right around the corner, so I waited knowing I’d have more time to digest and enjoy it. A pre-cautionary lockdown due to rising Covid numbers helped but it definitely took a lot longer than I liked—we broke each episode down into 2-parts and spread it out over a few nights, so it wasn’t Beatle-overload for my husband. Last weekend, we FINALLY finished it.
And the verdict: (stealing a phrase from my husband’s people here…)
BLOODY BRILLIANT!
But also…
CRAZY CHAOTIC!
I don’t think I—or anyone, for that matter—quite realized what went into that rooftop performance, made infamous because it was the first live performance in over three years and would also be their last. Everyone knows or has seen clips of that last performance on the roof of Apple Studios. It all seemed like so impromptu, stress-free. Like how difficult could it be to orchestrate a short gig on the roof of the building you own? In my eyes, the only stress would’ve been, “Will anyone be around to see it?” Well, no one knew the amount of utter chaos and stress going on in the studios down below, or—more importantly—at the soundstage at Twickenham where the Fab Four met and wrote the songs they’d perform. Keep in mind that the Beatles stopped recording their albums together years before; they’d pop into the studio on their own schedules, record their contributions to the given song, and trust George Martin to drive the train into the station. So throwing them onto a soundstage together, with the simple task of writing an entire album on a deadline—originally fourteen days—was a recipe for disaster. Which the first episode centers around.
That brings me to the first of two major concepts I took from the film.
First, Get Back is a masterclass in the creative process.
Extra Brownie points to whoever can read my serial killer handwriting :)
To those who participate in the creative realm, forcing yourself to be creative can be soul crushing. There’s a constant internal clock ticking in your head, reminding you that you’re deadline is approaching, you’re nowhere close to being done and everything you have produced is absolute shit. You don’t have time for the elusive muse to come strolling into the room and announcing herself; you need to produce. And produce NOW! Self-doubt creeps in, the piles of ripped and balled-up paper build and you constantly want to throw in the towel. The creative process is simply “weeding through the shit”—cutting it back, inch by inch—until you’ve found a small anecdote that actually makes sense. Until you get there it’s brutal, maddening, and most times you walk away from your desk feeling completely defeated. But if you stick with it, its beyond gratifying to see the end result; to see the flower that the shit produced (graphic, yes). Here’s a personal example: every first draft I’ve completed is handwritten in a journal. Yes. Every single thing, even this blog, is written out in freehand and then transcribed to a digital form. This is my way of “weeding through the shit”; I get everything in my head out on paper, get frustrated on the physical page and write until I can’t stand it any longer. I use the written draft as a way to format my intentions, THEN I take “the shit” and refine it. Don’t believe me? Look at the picture to the right…that is my written draft of this blog.
I adopted this process in college—specifically when I was writing my senior year thesis. It became a way to document all ideas and not have the option to click DELETE. I have an entire shelf of notebooks exactly like the one above. Yes, I wrote each of my books in freehand, chapter by chapter.
Now back to Get Back…
Maybe I was naïve in assuming that the Beatles wrote their songs prior to going into the studio. I thought the point of going into the studio was to record. Paul McCartney actually hinted at this in the Hulu docuseries McCartney 3,2,1—that in the early days, they only went into the studio if they had perfected a song because the tape and time was so expensive. They couldn’t afford experimentation, it was down to recording full albums in just a few days. Obviously, with fame came money and the ability to book studios for weeks. Or financing your own studio—which the Beatles did with Apple. Even so, I still assumed that some groundwork had been laid for the album.
But maybe that was the point? Perhaps the original filmmakers wanted to show the raw, unfiltered approach to writing an album. The “not-so-pretty” aspect of the creative process.
If that was the rational… Jesus, did they deliver.
This picture pretty much sums it up.
Watching the first episode was…stressful, to say the least. Honestly, that word doesn’t do it justice. It was a complete storm of cluster-fuckery. What was supposed to be structured songwriting days, turned into hours-long jam sessions with at least one of the four drifting off at some point, arguments over creative vision, and no real work getting accomplished. And Paul McCartney seemed to be shouldering it all. The pressure was palpable in his body language and eyes, and it left the viewer physically uncomfortable—it did for me anyway. It was him trying to re-center and refocus the group, him coming to the table with song ideas and chords, and only he voicing concerns over the impending performance date and not having a single song they could perform all the way through. At one point he even turned to John and said, “We need more songs. Do you have anything?”
Maybe the other three handled the stress better—John was aloof and (most likely) strung out, George seemed more concerned about his voice being heard when it came to particular guitar chord progressions (which implodes at the end of the first episode), and Ringo was (as always) calm, cool and collected. So that left Paul making the decisions and holding the reins. A role he didn’t feel comfortable with—John was always the leader. Their old manager—”Mr. Epstein” which they still affectionately called him—was brought up again and again; his death left a huge void in the band. He was a strict manager and no matter how off-the-wall they were acting, he always managed to bring them back to the task at hand. A strict hand was exactly what they needed during those weeks.
So, the entire first episode was a front row seat to “weeding through the shit” and eventually the genius bloomed. Though unbelievably chaotic and stress-inducing, all of it was fascinating to see. Like McCartney would come to the table with just a single lyric and a few chords, he’d play them and the group would build from there. Take the title track Get Back: the original concept was a protest song based around U.K. immigration policies that were making headlines. McCartney and Lennon literally had a newspaper in hand and just started spitting out potential lyrics to an easy guitar riff. Eventually, the song took on another life but we got to see it at all stages—the raw and the masterpiece. And that was the case for every song that ended up on their last album. I literally sat there smacking my husband’s arm in excitement when McCartney played a very early version of Let It Be—called “The Mary Song”. I know I wasn’t the only fan freaking out at the magic of that moment! We were right there with Paul at the conception of what would become one of the most beloved pieces of music the world over.
“Weeding through the shit” of bickering, writers block, lack of inspiration and focus, ego and opinions, a band member quitting (and not who you think), changing studio space and concept behind the ongoing film, pushing back completion and performance dates (twice!), and almost getting arrested helped produce a piece of musical genius (the Let it Be album) and the most famous rooftop performance in living history.
Now THAT is what I’d call a triumph in the creative process!
ALL of this brings me to my SECOND takeaway.
The Beatles HAD to break-up.
Shocking to say, yes but the film completely confirmed it. AND that assertion has nothing to do with Yoko Ono—yup, the film confirms that John’s spouse was villainized and the blame was misplaced. The reality was that the band outgrew each other and their combined relationship had become incredibly toxic. Can anyone say that the Beatles were a cohesive foursome after watching Get Back?
For real, I’ll wait…
Yes, in the end it all came together but the beginning and middle bits were unbelievably toxic. It didn’t look fun for them anymore and quite frankly, they didn’t seem to entirely like being around each other. So, what may you ask destroyed the band that revolutionized rock music? One thing and one thing only: ego—another result of fame. If you constantly have people applauding your gifts and accomplishments, you’re bound to develop a bit of a God complex. Naturally anyone who questions that—even your own bandmates—is dead wrong and its going to cause major conflict. More than one egomaniac in a room is like striking a match near dynamite and waiting for the explosion. Like no wonder they couldn’t get anything done! Each of them were exceedingly talented song writers/musicians and each (excluding Ringo, because…well…he’s Ringo) wanted the last say and their songs to make the album. Each needed their own platforms to pursue solo careers, where the opinions of three other people didn’t matter. Point blank. Period.
I truly don’t think they had another album in them. And I’m sure once Let It Be was released, they took a long break from speaking to each other. Christ, I do when I spend more than three-days with my family (love you guys).
Watching Get Back was an experience like none other—even the shitty toxic parts. It was well worth “weeding through the shit” to see the beauty and genius of that last album. And to see the four of them in a totally different way; completely themselves, instead of scripted or reserved. At times it felt slightly intrusive, but it added a more sincere layer to who each individual was. I can imagine—and heard—it was quite emotional for Paul and Ringo to see, especially given that John and George are no longer with us. But having this living time capsule must’ve warmed their hearts and miss them all the more.
Now that I have such a deeper appreciation for the artistry behind those songs, I look forward to the re-listening to the album in its entirety. I have a teeny suspicision it will be a totally different experience this time around…
