The Beatles’ ‘Revolver’ and My Dad
I don’t remember the first time I heard Revolver. It was probably when I was really young. My dad, keen on honing my life as a music aficionado from a young age, would’ve probably played it while I was still in my mum’s womb. An avid Beatles fan since forever, my dad is responsible for my siblings and I having classic rock music in our lives from birth, and I am so indebted to him because of this.
You go through stages with your parents’ music. You’re too young to know, then you’re old enough to be too “cool”, but for me, I think I got out of that phase really quickly. Maybe it was my dad’s refusal to change his CDs to one of mine or my sister’s in car trips, even when I begged him not to play The Who‘s Tommy album because it was giving me nightmares. “But it’s just so good! Listen to that,” he would exclaim, turning up some searing guitar solo in Pinball Wizard whilst I blocked it out with some Delta Goodrem. He did once let me have control during that one drive where I played the Destiny’s Child Christmas album, but only wanted hear Eight Days of Christmas for the hour-long journey.
“You’ve got to listen to the whole album, Emma. From start to finish. That’s what they’re for,” Dad would say to me. Whatever, Dad, just play the song again. But, due to my conditioning to appreciate music in it’s whole form, and it’s most classic form (the 60’s and 70’s), this phase was rather short-lived – and thank God it was. Whilst my formative teenage years were indeed spent submerged in the indie rock universe, and not long after that getting really into French electro, The Beatles have just always been there. Like that friend you have that you don’t always talk to, but you can call up at any time and its like nothing has changed. That’s The Beatles for me, and by extension, that’s Revolver. Furthermore, that’s my dad.
By: Emma Jones
Source: Howls and Echoes
