It seems any “new” Beatles material is going to be greeted with the same reaction from die-hard fans: mostly derision, because whatever it is will surely be either leftover material parading as new or rehashes in the form of best-ofs.
And then there was Love, the odd concoction that straddled the middle ground between the two, both a best-of and something a bit new, if only because it never existed in this particular form before. And this is where the casual fans make out best: They could pick up something like Love and just enjoy it for what it was, rather than picking it apart before it even reached store shelves, or just plain filing it away in the “failure” folder without even hearing it. That’s what many dedicated Beatles fans tend to do because, as it is widely known, this music is holy and must not be touched! Do not touch! But touch it Sir George Martin and son Giles did, picking through the master tapes and finding the fortuitous moments of the Fab Four’s better known songs that achieved that beautiful kind of alchemy where two or more songs can morph into one.
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