Podcast #162
John Steppling, Dennis Riches, Roger Johnson
https://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/entranced-by-donatello
https://www.nybooks.com/online/2015/03/04/donatello-brought-stone-life/
https://john-steppling.com/2025/05/its-just-there/
https://www.salon.com/2007/04/12/castaneda/
https://freespeechunion.org/police-make-30-arrests-a-day-for-offensive-online-messages/
https://theintercept.com/2025/05/17/eurovision-censored-israel-booing-free-palestine/
https://www.belfastlive.co.uk/news/tv/eurovision-israel-backlash-fake-applause-31667469
The thing about cultural and artistic criticism these days is that it's not allowed to really exist. Taste and opinion, in the critical sense, is now always viewed in the negative, and as some kind of personal attack on the artist. And by negative I mean anything short of obsequious fawning. There's also an implication when it comes to artistic greatness that has become universal: that it's part of the past and it is never going to happen again. "Of course you should read Melville and Dostoevsky and Kafka, and listen to Bach and Mozart, contemplate Donatello and Rembrandt, any intelligent person would, but don't think that anything like that can or will ever happen again." It's as if people have been taught to believe and do believe that these men were some type of mythological creatures whose works were conjured as if by magic.
When it comes to the medication and "diseases", I can't help but think of what Baudelaire said, I'm paraphrasing here, "Even if God doesn't exist, it wouldn't matter. People believe that He does". You take these "diseases" which are an arbitrary mixture of moods and thoughts and feelings and character temperament lumped together under an umbrella of some medical sounding title and people believe. Not because there is a blood test or MRI or CT Scan etc. to prove it (there's obviously not), but because they need to believe it. It provides a explanation, a reason, a certainty. And of course an excuse. It's also a lot easier. Lets think of parents who take their child to the doctor. "Doctor, doctor, little Timmy has been acting very hyper lately. I believe he has ADHD". Now what if the doctor said, "Okay, first you're going to cut out all caffeine from his diet. You're going to limit his sugar intake to one small dessert after dinner. Make sure he gets at least one hour of physical exercise every day, and limit his screen time to said amount. Do this for one month and if his symptoms don't improve bring him back in and we'll take it from there." What would the parents say? Most likely, "But doctor, we're too busy to monitor little Timmy that closely. Can you give him some medication?"
Also, I'm surprised you hate The Beatles, John. Don't you know Adorno wrote all of their music? That has to be true, I read it on the internet.
I'll try to be thoughtful and polite, but I have to start with a bit of snark, because if you really want to set me off, just put "hate" and "Beatles" together in a sentence! First, the snark: Silly Love Songs is NOT a Beatles track. So if you're going to say you "really really hate the Beatles," please get familiar enough with their output so that you can separate the solo stuff (especially Paul's) from what they recorded as a group. Secondly, remember that radio stations lean on the earwormy stuff. Sure, "Yesterday" was brilliant for its time, but there's only so many times you want to hear it.
Okay, the polite part. If you're really not all that familiar with the Beatles, I'd suggest putting on the White Album and playing it without many distractions. You might find a quarter of it disposable. But if you really want to get into a discussion about aesthetics, what a contribution the White Album made to our culture. Just its packaging alone (in about 10 different respects, but you need to see the original British pressing for that). Then there's the randomized order of nearly every musical style, and that 8-minute piece of "musique concrete" slyly placed placed near (but not quite at) the end of the album.
Regarding cover art specifically, the Beatles turned the record-playing experience into an aesthetic ritual. Magical Mystery Tour was originally released on two 3-track 45 RPM's packaged inside a story book. Sgt Pepper was a monumental photoshoot for its time, and was the first gatefold sleeve and the first to print lyrics on the back. Revolver broke psychedelic ground with its surreal black-and-white doodlings with photo cut-outs pasted over top. Even the early With The Beatles cover was an attempt to capture the aesthetics of jazz records of the time, and was nearly rejected by their label for being too arty. Not to mention the "Butcher Cover" version of Yesterday and Today -- not great art, and a literal mistake, but evidence of their willingness to go against the cultural grain. I will say that as a child, I loved just handling Beatles records, not just playing them. There was always something there to spark the imagination, whether it was that dual apple label in the middle of the vinyl, or figuring out what was happening graphically inside and outside the sleeves.
As for musical aesthetics, there are too many examples to mention, but the Beatles were the first pop group to focus on ambience and creating new sonic tricks to capture the listener's attention, whether it was the feedback-intro to I Feel Fine, the tape loops on the single-chord Tomorrow Never Knows, recording three tracks of Indian-influenced songs with Indian musicians, or the runout groove trick they played on Sgt Pepper for those whose turntables didn't have auto-return.
So when you say you "really hate the Beatles," I just hope that comes from not being that familiar with their work -- especially the stuff you don't hear on the radio.