This week I've been thinking a lot about The Beatles. Decent remasters of all their albums will be made available on Wednesday September 9, prompting a week of BBC documentaries and countless articles in the press.
Despite my eagerness to hear the new revamps I have to admit that, having read a little too much on the project, I've emerged a little nonplussed from the experience.
The main issue is which version of the albums to get. Mono is how the original recordings were mastered and was the mop tops' preferred format. Stereo on the other hand, is how we're accustomed to hearing music, allowing the elements to be easily distinguished from each other.
In The Beatles case, however, some of the early stereo recordings are just bastardised versions of the original masters, sometimes slowed down, or with elements taken away to cater for the, then primitive, format. This issue has been occupying my inner geek for the past week. It's what guys who aren't in serious relationships think about.
Naturally I could discuss this topic in far greater detail but, in the end (Beatles reference intended), you have to wander whether over analysing things impacts on the enjoyment, especially when one of the reasons I love the band is because of childhood memories of listening to the original vinyls (sorry dad, it probably was me that wrote 'tOm's RecOrD' on the limited, numbered edition of the White Album).
Disregarding the fact that meddling little sprogs shouldn't be allowed near anything that doesn't have NASA construction standards, experiencing music as a kid was amazing, and all the better because things like structure, fidelity and stereo panning weren't dwelt on.
The same goes for film. One of the first movies I saw at the cinema was Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. As a nipper I was oblivious to the fact that no Hollywood producer would ever fund a PG certificate movie in which Rick Moranis' hound relentlessly massacres a troupe of primary school children, and the experience was all the better for this ignorance.
Sure, it's great that I no longer fear waking up next to a giant stag beetle (though I've woken up next to worse *comedy drum smash*), but is this is at the sacrifice of fully appreciating the music of The Beatles? I'll let you know on September 9th.
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