Off The Beatle Track

The last two times I attended a Paul McCartney concert–in 2016 and 2025–the song that the audience seemed to enjoy the most was Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.¹

At both shows, Paul introduced the song by telling us that we were expected to participate. In 2016, he said, “I know you’ve been singing along. But at this point, in the middle of this song, I’m going to say ‘Now you.’ And there’s a bit that you will sing on your own for us. And you will sing most gloriously. Are you ready? ARE YOU READY?!” When cued, we sang the chorus twice.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da isn’t a great song, though The Beatles made a very good record out of it. But it is a helluva lot of fun to sing along to. I bet, despite yourself, you’re singing it right now.

Frivolity?

John and George are said to have disliked Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, which I understand. I suspect they considered it frivolous. John’s songs on the White Album include Julia (about his mother), Sexy Sadie (about the Maharishi), and Happiness Is a Warm Gun (about Yoko and, maybe, heroin?). He was mostly writing about subjects and people that were important in his life, whereas Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da concerned a made-up barrow-keeper and a singer.

Likewise, George wrote about God² (Long, Long, Long), Eric Clapton (Savoy Truffle), and the hypocrisy of the bourgeoisie (Piggies). It’s fair to say that Paul, in one camp, and John and George, in another, subscribed to different schools of songwriting.

The communal power of music

The more songs that John wrote, the more he restricted his subject matter to his own life. We can point to just a handful of songs from 1968 and 1969–The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill, Cry Baby Cry, Good Night³, Mean Mr. Mustard, and Polythene Pam–that weren’t about John himself. In his solo career, John seemed write exclusively about his own life or (mostly on Some Time in New York City) topics that were important to him

George, as I’ve suggested, wrote many solo songs about spiritualism, even when they seemed to be about other topics. (I’m thinking of songs like Blow Away.) Part of the reason why I believe The Beatles broke up at precisely the right time is that songs like John’s Mother and I Found Out and George’s My Sweet Lord and Awaiting on You All probably wouldn’t have felt “right” for a Beatles’ single or album.

At times, George’s music could become preachy, and John’s could get narcissistic. Paul seems dedicated to the idea that music can build community. He sometimes pushes the communal aspect to the point of cringe; it’s long past the time when he should have retired Hey Jude from his live set.

But when you’re in a crowd singing along to Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, you might feel, just for that moment, that things aren’t so bad. And what’s so bad about feeling not so bad?

1. Or maybe it was the song the I enjoyed the most and I’m projecting onto the other 20,000 folks who saw the shows with me. ↩︎
2. Probably? This is the beginning of the period in George’s songwriting when his love songs could reasonably be interpreted to be about either God or a woman, or maybe both. ↩︎
3. Even Good Night, a lullaby for Julian, might be considered to have originated in John’s home life. ↩︎