I am going to write about my life as a music fan, for no other reason than that I want to. The story starts in late 1963. I was 4, nearly 5. We lived in a big old farmhouse in Cheshire in north-west England; there was not a record player in the house. There was, however, a radio or two; and I recall this song being played.
She loves you yeah yeah yeah she loves you yeah yeah yeah she loves you …
I don’t know why I remember it, except that it is catchy as hell, and my dad complained about the lyrics. Unfortunately I don’t recall exactly what he said about them, but I can imagine … simplistic, repetitive, brainless, something like that. He was a lover of words and a published poet; his opinion was worth listening to.
In dad’s defence, I am sure it was not at all obvious that this is a great song. Somehow it captures universal human emotions in a way that almost anyone can relate to. Being a bit annoying to a man of my dad’s generation (he was 52) was part of the appeal as well.
As for me, at the time I didn’t have any opinion about the song. I recognized it though, and it is my first musical memory. It’s good to have one that has withstood the passing years so well.
She Love You by The Beatles (1963)