Being a Beatles fan -just like at least one half of the planet- I’ve gone through many different stages of my Beatlemaniac life, maturing in taste for their musical repertoire, just as I’ve done in age and personal views on life. Throughout my teenage years, I went from adoration for the innocent, catchy songs of Please Please Me and A Hard Day’s Night to rebelious admiration for the experimental songs of Revolver and Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, which better matched the rollercoaster emotions of my late teens. At the peak of my obssession, I read a couple of biographies of the band and watched all the videos, concerts, television appearances and films I could get hold of, reaching the crazy point of dreaming that I was good friends with John, Paul, Ringo and George: a joy that would vanish with the blink of an eye in the darkness of my bedroom.
Many years have passed since then, life is…well, busier and opportunities to just sit and listen to music are now extremely rare. About a year ago, however, I realised that I had been off The Beatles for longer than ever before and decided to pay them a visit. For no particular reason I jumped straight into the White Album and Abbey Road, only this time in the company of the two most exciting people I’ve ever met, my sons, aged 4 and 7. We listen to music together when we do the school run, through an ipod connected to the speakers in our car. Soon after we started listening to The Beatles, we developed a shared fondness for three songs in particular: Blackbird, I Will and Here Comes the Sun, none of which had ever been in my top favourite Beatles tracks in the past.
For over a year now, Blackbird has remained a frequently played track in our “school run playlist”. The more I listen to it -including the countless versions by classical, folk and rock musicians- the more I fall in love with it. It is a timeless piece, which has lots to say about the beauty of simplicity and the significance of innocence.
The song is credited to Lennon-McCartney but it was recorded as a solo by McCartney for the White Album in 1968. McCartney has said in the past that the melody was inspired by Bach’s Bouree in E Minor, which he and George Harrison versioned regularly when they were young boys. The lyrics, as also stated by McCartney, were inspired by the Civil Rights Movement in North America, which the band strongly supported. Beyond these facts, however, Blackbird is, in itself, a truly uplifting and inspirational song. Its beauty stems from its simplicity: an acoustic guitar accompanied by one naked voice.
After so many years listening to Beatles’ music, Blackbird has unexpectedly climbed up to the top of my all time favourite songs. Considering the band’s artistic trajectory and the evolution (and sometimes involution) of the relationship between its members, Blackbird stands out as a particularly moving piece. After all, the song speaks about our vulnerability as humans and works as an invitation to gather up strength and courage in the face of adversity.
Against the background of The Beatles musical repertoire, Blackbird works, in a way, as an analogy of life. Starting from pure innocence in childhood, passing through the insatiable appetite for experience and independence in adolescence, we eventually emerge as adults in search for truth: we gather knowledge, learn to manage cotidianity, suffer pain and enjoy happiness. We never cease in our search, until one day we stumble upon a truth that we knew all along but had been unable to see: vulnerability is a beautiful thing and innocence and humility are powerful sources of joy. Life might wound us at times but it always provides us with fresh opportunities for healing; just like the blackbird, who has the chance of taking its broken wings and learn to fly again.
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Listen to Paul McCartney playing Blackbird here
A beautiful instrumental version of Blackbird by Milos Karadaglic click here