Come together? Let it be
Still, for all the bitterness of the split, it has had one indisputable benefit. For as long as they were together, the two maintained the convention of being jointly responsible for everything that appeared under their names. Only now has it become possible to determine who was responsible for what, and to attribute particular titles to each. More than mere compilations of greatest hits, their respective discographies make striking reading. Indeed, it is possible to see these songs as a sort of coded dialogue, a running diary in which is written the whole history of their often tortured relationship.
Their story is as familiar as myth or legend. The two meet when the band is still a scrappy pack of ruffians, long before its rise to near decade-long chart dominance. Their early songs are appealing in their simplicity. Yet even then, the tension between the two is evident. Jean, though the band's undisputed leader, evinces an almost plaintive insecurity, practically begging Paul to come on board (Help!). Paul, for his part, is initially reluctant, but ultimately relents, joining the band in a key role (Taxman).
For a time all is well. They put aside their rivalry, concentrating instead on solving one problem (Fixing a Hole) at a time. But inevitably, the two find themselves going in different musical directions. Jean's insecurity is never far from the surface (If I Fell), while Paul, as if to confirm the other's fears, openly declares his desire to replace -- er, succeed -- him (I'm Looking Through You). The crafty Jean seems to promise that day is not far off (It Won't Be Long), meeting with first skepticism (Not a Second Time), then, after the promise is repeated (Any Time at All), outright disbelief (I Should Have Known Better).
There follows a tense standoff. Attempts are made at negotiation (We Can Work it Out), but too much has passed between them (Things We Said Today). Eventually talks break down altogether (You Won't See Me). Paul threatens to leave, even as he frets at the impact his departure would have on the band (I Don't Want to Spoil the Party). Jean, for his part, puts up a show of bravado, demanding he stop intriguing against him (You Can't Do That), even offering, flippantly, to find another position for him (Drive My Car).
Much pointless argument ensues over whether Paul quits (Ticket to Ride) or is kicked out (Hello, Goodbye). Whatever may be the case, it is clear there can be no going back. The insults mount. First Jean taunts Paul (Nowhere Man), then Paul slags Jean (Fool on the Hill). Paul, ever mindful of his image, worries about the effects of advancing age on his popular appeal (When I'm 64). Yet Jean seems to grow cockier, boasting of his good health (I Feel Fine) and near-dictatorial power (I am the Walrus). Infuriated, Paul can contain his feelings no longer (Happiness is a Warm Gun).
Yet even now they are obliged to maintain the public fiction that the band is still together. While Jean gathers his supporters around him (With a Little Help From My Friends), Paul cautions his own not to make any overt show of disloyalty (You've Got To Hide Your Love Away). Jean casts aspersions, somewhat hypocritically, on Paul's great wealth (Baby You're a Rich Man). Paul gets his own sly digs in at Jean's leadership style (I'm Only Sleeping).
But eventually there is nothing for it but to declare the obvious: that the two have parted, irrevocably. There remains only for each to pick a theme song. For Jean, it is a tossup, between stressing what is past (Yesterday), or what is to come (Strawberry Fields Forever). As for Paul, his choice is clear. Remembering that his father was also in the business, he opts for a title suggesting something as inevitable as the changing of the generations: Here Comes the Son.
Ever since Jean and Paul's acrimonious breakup, much attention has focused on the celebrated duo as they embark upon solo careers. As always, the contrast is striking. While Paul, the "cute one," has been playing to hordes of screaming fans on his recent tour (persistent "Paul is dead" rumours notwithstanding), Jean, "the moody one," has been holed up with his Svengali-like wife, whom many blame for coming between them. Yet in one respect they are alike: One senses that neither will ever be as successful on his own as they were together.