December 2001
by Barry Stagg
Some say it was just the demography of the baby bloomers, a bulge of young people growing to the age of consumption en masse in the sixties, a retail imperative demanding its own heroes and stars and getting them in the lads from Liverpool.
Others say it was the democratic magic of the sixties, filtered through the eyes of babies born in the time of the Blitz, raised within lifelong earshot of their war survivor parents, the little people of England who won the war. This is romantically plausible and worthy of exploration.
In 1965, the war was over for 20 years, its main group of adult survivors, a middle aged population of Britons between 40 and 60. Their children were the Beatles, the Animals, the Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, the Who, Van Morrison , John Mayall, our British invasion, ya, ya, ya. That was a time when the youngsters could see for themselves how their hardy and poor parents had faced down Hitler and got themselves a generation of rationing and wage controls.
The sixties were bust out times for the children ready to break away from the collective chains of building the country back up after the destruction of 1939-45. They had all the soul that goes with being brought up by families who had vanquished the Devil in real form, real war time, a real chance of dying like so many of mom' s and dad' s friends who did die in the war. These people who were the war survivors supplied the English soul that the Beatles and their bandstand buddies electrically welded to the American music so aptly termed ' soul' : Ray Charles, Muddy Waters, Chester Burnett, black Americans who got themselves turned into white inspiration by the invaders from Liverpool and London. Ed Sullivan, here they come- and how.
Listen a bit closely to ' A Day in the Life' from the Sergeant Pepper album:
"I saw a film today oh boy
"The English Army had just won the war
"A crowd of people turned away
"But I just had to look
"Having read the book.."
and to ' The Great Gig in the Sky ' from Pink Floyd 's Dark Side of the Moon : these words spoken in conversational working class English,
"And I am not frightened of dying, any time will do,
"I don't mind. Why should I be frightened of dying?
"There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime.
"I never said I was frightened of dying."
These are the words of the older English generation, a tribute to those who did face down death in the streets of England when the country was a real war zone, long before Carnaby Street was a word on the tip of the trendy tongues of teenage American girls. The older generation was growing weary in Sergeant Pepper's 1967 but they were content with their peace and the promising lot ahead for their war children.
George Harrison died a modest man, self-deprecating and in harmony with the words his brothers in Pink Floyd put to vinyl in 1973. He brought grace and substance to his generation in his life and in his passing. The people who fought the Blitz and made the Beatles possible approve. Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play. Thank you Eric Schacter, young English teacher.