bc magazine, hong kong

Memory’s a funny thing, isn’t it? I can’t remember what I had for lunch two days ago but I can still remember what I did on February 9, 1964. Of course, a Big Mac or a bowl of won ton mein never changed my life, but the day the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show was the day my life changed from black and white to Technicolor. And while I’ve enjoyed or admired many bands since then, there’s always going to be a place in what doctors assure me is my heart for the Fab Four.

So I can’t quite comprehend that entire generations have grown up without the Beatles, people who see them as their parents’ (or grandparents’) band, as a rumour and not as a gospel. It just seems wrong. Of course, my mother probably felt the same way when she watched Elvis Presley shake and shimmy his way past Frank Sinatra in the hearts and minds of the world’s youth.

But this year, events have temporarily conspired to make me feel a little bit younger again, however briefly. Because September 9 ended up being a global Beatles day of sorts: 09-09-09, the significance of the date a nod to Revolution No 9 from the White Album. Forty-five years after they made the jump from big fish in a small pond to global phenomenon, 37 years after they broke up, newly remastered Beatles CDs and a Beatles Rock Band video game were unleashed upon the planet. Hong Kong (maybe the only place in the world where the Beatles couldn’t sell out two concerts) had to wait a few extra days.

The newly remastered catalogue is significant in several ways, not the least of which is the accompanying marketing push that’s getting a new generation to buy this stuff for the first time. But it’s also significant because up until now, EMI never got the Beatles’ CDs right.

When the albums first came out on CD in 1987, EMI made the decision to release only the British versions of the albums (the early American albums had completely different tracks in different running orders) – that was the only thing they got right.

People screamed at the time about the first four albums only being available in mono on CD. It’s not widely known but EMI waited until the last minute to send stereo tapes to George Martin for his seal of approval – but someone sent the wrong tapes. What he heard sounded like shit and he urged them to be released in mono instead. What’s more, the digital transfers done for that 1987 release were a rush job, the kind of treatment you might expect for the Fra Lippo Lippi back catalogue but certainly not for arguably the most influential music group of the past 50 years.

Honestly, back then we thought the CDs sounded pretty okay. They were a definite improvement over the scratchy vinyl in most of our collections. But as the years went by, we kept waiting for something more. We didn’t get much though, did we? Two four-disc sets representing the stereo versions of the first eight US releases. The original Glyn Johns mix of the Let It Be album. A smattering of BBC recordings, various re-packaging of the hits and a soundtrack of tunes remixed for a Cirque du Soleil show and not too much else. The impression was that no one seemed to care about the catalogue except the fans – certainly no one at EMI and seemingly no one at Apple Records (which can’t make a move on anything without 100% agreement between Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr, Yoko Ono and Olivia Harrison. You can just imagine how much fun those board meetings must be. McCartney probably sat there thinking, ‘Hmmm, an extra $10 million for a CD of unreleased tracks or spend an hour with Yoko? I’ve got enough money already.’).

With these new reissues at least some of the transgressions of the past have been addressed. You can buy each of the Beatles’ original 13 albums and the double-disc Past Masters collection individually, with nice booklets and ratty Quick Time documentaries. No bonus tracks, no alternate versions or remixes, no surprises. If you shell out for the 16-disc boxed set, the only bonus you’ll get is a DVD that collects the 13 “mini-documentaries.”

All of that grumbling aside, the sound on the newly remastered releases kicks the collective asses of the old discs. Twenty-two years of advances in digital remastering technology adds up to huge and unsubtle sonic improvements across the board. And unlike last time, these were no rush jobs – they spent four years working on the new analogue-to-digital transfers. As I’m writing this, I’ve been zipping back and forth between the new version of the White Album and the “30th Anniversary” edition released in Japan in 1998 and I’d toss the Japanese discs in the trash bin if I didn’t think they might have some future value as collectibles. Everything sounds clearer, brighter, bigger and yes, better.

There’s a third option – a limited edition boxed set that includes the mono mixes of the first 10 albums plus a new two-disc collection called Mono Masters. Why a limited edition? Why can’t you buy the mono editions of the albums separately? I don’t know. Some might be impressed by the fact that they sometimes used different vocal and instrumental takes for the different mixes, but the differences are so subtle that they’d mostly appeal to trainspotters if that was the only reason.

Actually, for the early albums, it’s the mono not the stereo mixes that are the essential versions. Back in the old days, if they spent a week doing the final mono mix for an album, the stereo mix was an afterthought, tossed off in a day. The stereo mixes are just awkward on those old records – all the guitars on one channel, vocals on another – and it often ends up being more distracting than enjoyable. On the other hand, listening to headphone masterpieces like Revolution No 9 or anything off Sgt Pepper in mono is just plain weird.

One thing undeniable is the Beatles’ continued appeal. In an era where we’re told no one buys CDs any more, these reissues sold more than two million units in the US, UK and Japan in just their first five days of release. On Billboard Magazine’s pop catalogue chart, the Beatles currently have 16 titles in the top 50 – the 14 individual albums and the two boxed sets. In this age of Hannah Montana and Taylor Swift, it’s a nice feeling to know that people still want to hear the Beatles.

Of course I don’t expect them to have the same impact they had 45 years ago. I don’t expect anyone to delete their Asher Roth MP3s or for DJs in Lan Kwai Fong to start playing dance remixes of Eleanor Rigby. But all these years later, that same kid who sat wide-eyed in front of the TV watching Ed Sullivan is an old man sitting in his rocking chair, smoking his dog and petting his pipe, and enjoying these classics all over again. And it feels nice.