The Hook That Won Me The Beatles
Baby-faced George played a seemingly simple riff
that found my ear while everyone else heard
Yeah yeah yeah.
Polyphonic elegance, dyads, a humble collection
of harmonic intervals tagging that famous chorus.
His series of double-stopped notes
tied the rhythm and power
of these pasty British youths
to the emotional presence of my adolescence.
Sophisticated beyond their pretentions,
their classic hit She Loves You brought forth,
not by lyrics - not a lot of meat
in that song - but by the sophomore craft
of budding icons ready to champion
the musical trade.
They sung a Little Richard "ooooh"
as a quasi-rhythmic bridge.
Cute smiles and charm proselytized
fans of most persuasions
but it was George's guitar, meaty and melodic
that made a devotee out of me.
For this nine-year old the whole rhythm thing
was better than sports.
John stood like an NFL lineman
Paul swung his bass like a bat,
and George humbly worked the floor
like a pitcher on the mound.
Throughout the two-minute
Ringo grinned from his riser.
Leading with his left
he splashed cymbals and beat toms
to add another set of rhythmic hooks
while playing his kit backwards.