The category is botched exit ethics.
As I strongly assumed would be the case, yesterday’s much-hyped release of “the last Beatles recording” gave to the eagerly waiting world one more wan, down-beat sigh of a zombie song by the late John Lennon from his Blue Period, electronically turned into a sub-par Beatles number by adding contemporary contributions from Paul and Ringo, some instrumentation from the also deceased George Harrison, and sound engineering by “Fifth Beatle” George Martin’s son. Thus we have a trilogy of such things, with “Now and Then” being added to the similarly mediocre and lugubrious “Free as a Bird” and “True Love,” all of them home demos recorded by Lennon after the group dissolved and approved for Beatlizing by Yoko Ono.
One is compelled to ask, “Why?” Yoko doesn’t need the money; neither do the remaining ex-Beatles of George Harrison’s estate. The “last song” is going to be released on a commemorative 45 with “Love Me Do,” the group’s first hit. That’s nice. Two mediocre Beatles songs on one disc. This is akin to commemorating Shakespear by releasing “Titus Andronicus” and “Henry the VIII” as a set. This song, like the previous two, do nothing to enhance the reputations of Lennon or the group. If these were typical of the Beatles’ creative output, the band would be less fondly remembered than the Strawberry Alarm Clock (of “Incense and Peppermints” fame; in fact, I’d rather listen to that silly song than hear “Now and Then” again).
I detest spoiled exits. They are self-inflicted wounds that hurt others as well, the inevitable product of hubris, ego, and a juvenile unwillingness to accept reality. It is so seldom that icons and justifiably admired public figures pull off a timely, perfect exit and have the integrity, courage and life competence to resist the siren songs of those telling them to come back. Burt Lancaster’s last appearance on screen had him walking into the magic corn field after a movie-stealing part in “Field of Dreams.” Eugene O’Neill’s last play was “The Iceman Cometh.” Perfect. Ted Williams hit a home run in his last at bat. Perfect. The Beatles also executed one of the most perfect exits, the last section of the epic second side of “Abbey Road,’ their final collaboration as a band, appropriately titled “The End.” Each member, at his creative peak, signs off with an instrumental solo, then all come together for a final climax, quieting to the essentially Beatles coda, “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” And out. Perfect. (Paul’s post-script giggle, “Her Majesty” doesn’t count.) “The End” will be played at my funeral. Exit with confidence, brio, and leaving good memories. And don’t screw it up by coming back.
Why?
Ethics Alarms 
Reportedly, the then-three surviving Beatles attempted to work up this song years ago – it was in the same collection of demos that included Free as a Bird and Real Love. Yoko Ono gave them the demos with the idea that they’d finish them up. They worked on it extensively, but the technology at the time was incapable of separating Lennon’s voice from the piano part, and they abandoned that aspect of the project.
Fast forward to today; George Harrison is gone and the technology Peter Jackson had developed to improve the sound for his Get Back films was indeed capable of prying Lennon’s voice free. So they had an opportunity to resume production.
None of those three songs, in my opinion, are particularly good ones. Certainly not up to the level Lennon was creating while with The Beatles (IMO, only Harrison’s music actually improved post-Beatles; McCartney needed Lennon’s acidity and Lennon needed McCartney to take the rough edges off. I personally find most of their post-Beatles output to be uninteresting).
Still, I see nothing wrong in McCartney and Starr’s determination to finish a project circumstances forced them to abandon many years ago. Certainly, Ono thought it was a good idea for them to do, and she, McCartney and Starr are apparently in agreement that Lennon would have dug the idea.
So what’s the harm? It’s not a great record by any stretch, but it doesn’t hurt anybody and it may make some people feel good.
What’s the harm? The main harm is that what is last in any sequence, like what is first, always attracts disproportionate attention. My son, who is a music omnivore, became fascinated by all music through the Beatles based on viewing “Yellow Submarine,” an excellent spark for interests in the group, the history of rock, etc. If the first thing a child is exposed by the Beatles is this blah, what’s likely to happen?
The key line in your comment is “Ono thought it was a good idea…”
Oh yes…I know the first Led Zeppelin album I was ever exposed to was Coda.
If you can’t tell, I’m kidding.
Re Harrison: did his music really improve? I don’t think any post-Beatles composition comes up to the levels of “Something,” “Run for Your Life,” “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”or “Here Comes The Sun.” I think of George as a cult songwriter most notable for his musicianship, just as McCartney’s brilliance was in melody and John’s was in messages, mood and gibberish.
Sure it did. Harrison’s melodies and song structures blossomed after the Beatles. He was just finding his voice when the Beatles broke up. In fact, i would suggest that his output rivals what Lennon/McCartney did together. “Tax Man” is brilliant. “I want to Tell You” and “If I Needed Someone” are terrific. The blending of Indian raga on “Within You, Without You” was miles ahead of its time.
Post Beatles, check out “What is Life” for all of its pure pop glory. “When We Was Fab” is a wonderful homage to the Beatles, pure tongue-in-cheek whimsy. “Living in the Material World”? Sublime. The Traveling Wilburys were great.
Lennon’s “Double Fantasy” is a masterpiece, though. He rediscovered his muse.
jvb
The last Beatles song was Her Majesty actually.
This song is better than that one.
You do know that I dealt with that in the post, right? You can disagree, of course, but I regard that song as the equivalent of Ringo shouting “I’ve got blisters on my fingers!” after “Helter Skelter.” The big clue that the Beatles regarded “The End” as “the end” of the album and “the end” of the Beatles is the fact that they cleverly named it, “The End.” Movies that include outtakes during the credits (after “The End” appears) are not generally regarded as still telling the story with those clips.
From today’s New York Times review of the song:
Like the other posthumous Beatles tracks, “Now and Then” leans into nostalgia. Its existence matters more than its quality. For anyone who grew up on or came to love the Beatles, there’s an extra pang in hearing the full band’s last work together, even as a digital assemblage. In “Free as a Bird” and “Real Love,” Lennon sang about connection. But “Now and Then” copes with separation, one that has now been made final by mortality. The song can’t compare to the music the four Beatles made together in the 1960s. All it can do is remind listeners of a synergy, musical and personal, that’s now lost forever.
(Sounds like a rationalization to me…)