Imagine there’s no Lennon

True, we’d have lost some nice songs. But we might also be free of a great deal of today’s fatuous pop-star posturing

Had he been spared a madman’s bullet in December 1980, as he left his apartment in New York, John Lennon would have turned 70 last week, a hypothetical event that was celebrated at the weekend by balloons, concerts, congregations and homilies the world over. It was also marked by the unveiling of a ‘John Lennon Peace Monument’ in Liverpool and the presentation of the Lennon Ono Grant for Peace in Reykjavik.

Lennon’s was a tragic death, to be sure, and it is perfectly reasonable to mark this sad anniversary by recalling the gilded days of his youth. But let’s keep things in perspective. Lennon may have represented one half of a memorable partnership in English song, worthy successors to Gilbert (who was wittier) and Sullivan (who wrote better tunes). But he was also one of the supreme duffers of the late 20th century.

If his admirers restricted themselves to praising ‘It’s Only Love’, ‘Norwegian Wood’ or ‘Ticket to Ride’, there wouldn’t be an argument. Those songs scrub up well 45 years after Lennon, with a little help from Paul McCartney and George Martin, knocked them into shape. This is pop music at its best, fresh and zingy, making no bid for the higher ground.

The Beatles, particularly in the golden period from 1964 to 1966, were superb popular entertainers. There was a falling-off after Revolver, when they were encouraged to take themselves seriously, but an impish spirit prevailed. When people talk about the group’s roots in American rhythm and blues, they miss the mark. This was an English phenomenon, specifically a northern music-hall phenomenon, influenced by Billy ‘Almost a Gentleman’ Bennett, George Formby and Ken Dodd.