And.

Anti-Music.

Oh!  They're rehearsing. 

They were serious?

From The Advocate (Nerk, Ahia), September 10, 1964, Buckley on the Crowned Heads of Anti-Music ...

Some choice excerpts ...

Let me say it, as evidence of my final measure of devotion to the truth: The Beatles are not merely awful, I would consider it sacrilegious to say anything less than that they are godawful. They are so unbelievably horrible, so appalling unmusical, so dogmatically insensitive to the magic of the art they qualify as crowned heads of anti-music, even as the impostor popes went down in history as “anti-popes.”  It helps a little bit to know that no one thinks they are more of a joke than the Beatles themselves, and one is relieved in supposing that they go to bed at night laughing at their utterly inexplicable success, if solemn at the thought that they must inhabit a world that features themselves.

If our children can listen avariciously to the Beatles, it must be because through our genes we transmitted to them a tendency to some disorder of the kind. What was our sin? Was it our devotion to Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, Ella Fitzgerald? How could that be? We worshiped at the shrine of Purity. What then, gods and goddesses, was our sin, the harvest we are now reaping? We may not know what it was, even as Oedipus did not know during all those years the reason why he was cursed.

Crowned.

You can lead a person to culture, but you can't make them think. 

Tom Wolfe

I got half-a-dozen paintings from that shattered plate.

Georgia O'Keeffe

Someone's knockin' at the door

Somebody's ringin' the bell

Someone's knockin' at the door

Somebody's ringin' the bell

Do me a favor

Open the door 

And let 'em in

The Crowned Head of Anti-Music

Final.

Help?

Sir Paul McCartney says he has employed artificial intelligence to help create what he calls "the final Beatles record."

Promise?

Phony.

The Crowned Heads of Anti-Music mercifully played their last public performance on this day in 1969.

Essentially.

I cannot bear assaults of any kind, and it seems to me that the Beatles essentially were out to affront and to assault.

Glenn Gould

More.

Have you seen the bigger piggies

In their starched white shirts?

You will find the bigger piggies

Stirring up the dirt,

Always have clean shirts to play around in

In their styes with all their backing

They don’t care what goes on around

In their eyes there’s something lacking

What they need’s a damn-good whacking

Everywhere there’s lots of piggies

Living piggy lives

You can see them out for dinner

With their piggy wives

Clutching forks and knives to eat the bacon

One more time

George Harrison

Never think you've seen the last of anything.

Eudora Welty

Knockin'.

You can lead a person to culture, but you can't make them think. 

Tom Wolfe

I got half-a-dozen paintings from that shattered plate.

Georgia O'Keeffe

Someone's knockin' at the door

Somebody's ringin' the bell

Someone's knockin' at the door

Somebody's ringin' the bell

Do me a favor

Open the door and let 'em in

The Crowned Head of Anti-Music

Na.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, hey Jude

Paul McWhatever

Nobly.

Shame on the man of cultivated taste who permits refinement to develop into fastidiousness that unfits him for doing the rough work of a workaday world. Among the free peoples who govern themselves there is but a small field of usefulness open for the men of cloistered life who shrink from contact with their fellows. Still less room is there for those who deride of slight what is done by those who actually bear the brunt of the day; nor yet for those others who always profess that they would like to take action, if only the conditions of life were not exactly what they actually are. The man who does nothing cuts the same sordid figure in the pages of history, whether he be a cynic, or fop, or voluptuary. There is little use for the being whose tepid soul knows nothing of great and generous emotion, of the high pride, the stern belief, the lofty enthusiasm, of the men who quell the storm and ride the thunder. Well for these men if they succeed; well also, though not so well, if they fail, given only that they have nobly ventured, and have put forth all their heart and strength. It is war-worn Hotspur, spent with hard fighting, he of the many errors and valiant end, over whose memory we love to linger, not over the memory of the young lord who "but for the vile guns would have been a valiant soldier."

Theodore Roosevelt, from his speech, “Citizenship in a Republic,” delivered at the Sorbonne, April 23, 1910

George Harrison of The Crowned Heads of Anti-Music put it this way ...

Have you seen the little piggies crawling in the dirt?

And for all the little piggies life is getting worse,

Always having dirt to play around in.

Have you seen the bigger piggies in their starched white shirts?

You will find the bigger piggies stirring up the dirt,

Always have clean shirts to play around in.

In their sties with all their backing hey don't care what goes on around,

In their eyes there's something lacking,

What they need's a damn good whacking.

Everywhere there's lots of piggies living piggie lives,

You can see them out for dinner with their piggie wives,

Clutching forks and knives to eat their bacon.

 

Progress.

It behooves every man to remember that the work of the critic is of altogether secondary importance, and that, in the end, progress is accomplished by the man who does things. 

Theodore Roosevelt

Happy Birthday, Beatle(ss)

One of the Crowned Heads of Anti-Music was born on this date seemingly centuries ago.

"Maxwell's Silver Hammer" ...

Dope.

What a dope.

Pat Metheny, "And I Love Her"

Sergio Mendes & Brasil '66, "The Fool on the Hill"

Stay.

Finally.

On this date in 1969, The Crowned Heads of Anti-Music finally ended their public reign of terror.

Dull.

The man that hath no music in himself, 
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; 
The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
And his affections dark as Erebus. 
Let no such man be trusted. 
Mark the music.

William Shakespeare, from The Merchant of Venice

Hell.

Paul McCartney & Wings, "Helen Wheels"