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Yesterday misunderstands
what made the Beatles so
popular
By Noah Berlatsky
The film Yesterday has an intriguing
premise: What if the Beatles never existed?
Unsuccessful, moderately talented singersongwriter Jack Malik wakes up one day
and is the only one who remembers the
Beatles’ songs. Suddenly he can pose as the
creator of the greatest music ever written.
As a result, he quickly becomes a worldrenowned superstar.
Jack is successful because the Beatles’
songs, removed from their original context,
still maintain the universal, instant appeal
that has canonized them in our non-fictional
world, offscreen. Label execs, other
musicians, and huge numbers of fans are all
won over by “Jack’s” music; Even decades
after the Soviet Union disintegrated, “Back
in the USSR” still rocks people’s world.
But would “Back in the USSR” really be
an automatic, surefire hit if it were released
today, into a music scene whose interests
have evolved far beyond the Beatles? Is
quality in the arts so transcendent that it can
overcome all differences of era, culture, and
happenstance? Is music a meritocracy
— an art form that privileges natural talent
over everything else?
There’s good reason to believe that
the answer to all three of those questions
is no. Wonderful songs aren’t always hits;
talented musicians don’t always achieve
success commensurate with their abilities.
And sometimes a twist of fate lands the
less talented in a position to reap massive
rewards.
We tend to expect that good things
don’t always come to the most deserving
people. Sometimes the most successful
people get that way because they’re in the
right place at the right time, or know the
right people, or were even born into it. And
art is no exception.
There’s research to back up the notion
that fame and fortune come from more than
pure talent. Sociologists Matthew Salganik
of Princeton and Duncan Watts of Microsoft
have conducted a number of studies to
determine what makes a song popular. They
discovered that when someone approaches
a song knowing only that it’s popular and
well-liked within the cultural mass, that
person is more inclined to come away
liking the song too. This can create a ripple
effect, with songs becoming more and more
popular because they already are popular.
Salganik and Watts’s research suggests
that the more visible something is the more
highly regarded it is, and the more popular it
is likely to become.
Social influence has a powerful effect
on which songs become popular. As art is a
form of communication we often share and
experience socially, it makes sense that we
like art that we believe will connect us to
others.
Our instincts to spread what we like,
and to like what others like, mean that what
seem like small advantages for a song —
perhaps a well-placed promo on Spotify,
or appearing on the soundtrack of a Netflix
show — can lead to a big chart presence. A
good review at the right time or being used
in a viral meme on a slow news day could
help more people discover a song just out
of happenstance. Songs that get an initial
bump can ride that wave, so more people
seek them out, buy them, and boost their
popularity. This cycle can lead to one song,
good or not, becoming a hit, while another
disappears into obscurity.
The Beatles were very good by
most qualitative metrics. But the band’s
quantitative achievements don’t mean
they are indisputably the most meritorious
musicians of all time, or even of their day.
More likely, the band also managed to be
in the right place at the right time, on top of
everything else.
Western racial inequalities also
stymied many homegrown artists.
Influential African American singers and
girl groups like the Shirelles didn’t have
much opportunity to turn their Billboard
hits into widespread celebrity and lasting
cultural recognition. Paul McCartney and
John Lennon are household names, but
there aren’t many casual music fans who
know the name of the Shirelles’ lead singer,
Shirley Owens.
The Beatles were white, male English
speakers who were able to tour and didn’t
die young. But they had other advantages
as well. Perhaps most obviously, they
were working in a genre that was broadly
popular.
By contrast, today’s most popular
music is split between contemporary
hip-hop and dance music that relies on
synthesizers, electronics, and myriad crossgenre references. Pure rock ’n’ roll, built on
a simple four-person setup of guitar, bass,
drums, and vocals, is no longer the dominant
genre. ”If a Beatles song came out today, it
would sound dated,” Charlie Harding, host
of Vox’s Switched on Pop podcast, told me.
“There are hardly any synthesizers. It’s all
live drumming. Plus, so much of their music
is blues-based, and blues-based music just
isn’t popular right now.”
At their height, the Beatles famously
pushed boundaries in the studio, creating
psychedelic effects and soundscapes that
no one at the time had ever heard before.
But that’s old hat in 2019. You can do all of
what the Beatles did and more in your room
with a laptop, at least technically speaking.
Sure, it’s fun to think, as Yesterday does, that our love for the Beatles is universal, true, and incontrovertible. Where’s the harm in that?
The problem is that people often don’t
see the myth of meritocracy as a myth; they
really believe in it. And when they do, it can
have some unfortunate effects. The myth
of meritocracy can make us less willing to
invest in the collective good.
If we convince ourselves that
talented artists like the Beatles will be
successful no matter what, we can also
convince ourselves that we don’t really
need to provide people with safety nets
or resources. After all, the best will win
out anyway. Why invest in school arts
programs, or fund arts grants, if great
musicians will be just fine on their own?
The Beatles made wonderful,
undoubtedly influential art. But if Yesterday
weren’t so hypnotized by the supposedly
unmatchable quality of the Beatles’ music,
it might be able to see that there are great
songs being written by people like Jack
Malik too. The film believes that songs
like “Yesterday” are just so good, they
would become mega-popular under any
circumstances. And yet many people
who think “Yesterday” is the best song
ever have been inevitably swayed by the
Beatles’ popularity and legacy, the song’s
quality aside.
Maybe instead, the best song ever is
one we haven’t heard yet; maybe it’s the
one you’re going to write. Part of what
happens when we abandon the myth of
meritocracy is that we’re better able to
see the merit all around us. And that gives
everyone a greater chance at success.
(adapted from https://www.vox.com, Jun 29, 2019)