There is a scene in the Steven Spielberg film Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade where our eponymous hero faces up to his latest nemesis, known to us only as Panama Hat. Panama Hat discovers the priceless Cross of Coronado in Indiana’s pocket. He remarks:
“This is the second time I’ve had to reclaim my property from you.”
Jones responds, ever protecting of the artifact: “That belongs in a museum!”
“So do you!” cackles our bad guy.
I use this diversion to illustrate one point: namely, the understandable reverence for The Beatles does occasionally lapse into regarding them and their music as some kind of untouchable museum piece. Every note of music, every syllable of dialogue, every lyric pored over with scrupulous and studied gaze, their ardent fan base akin to music archaeologists in search of a new lens, some new insight.Continue reading