Most of them...okay, us...would gladly shell out for a box set of recordings of John Lennon slowly decomposing, as long as it had some light harpsichord and a message of universal love.
But all good things must end, and the ever-diminishing pool of unreleased, re-mastered, and pre-un-de-recorded tracks of the boys improvising into a shitty 8-track means that every new Beatles track is inevitably scraped from an even deeper, heretofore unexplored part of the barrel.
Tupac they aint.
This weeks scrapings are a few recordings of the Beatles playing at a club in Germany. The quality is dubious, and its reputed to be Ringos first performance with the band.
For those who havent heard about Ringos arduous journey towards adequacy, his first performance probably looked like an orangutan flailing at a particularly stubborn coconut.
Have we gotten to this point? Is there really an appreciable market for what is likely the third most regrettable moment of the Beatles existence (the second being Lennons assassination and the first being that bitch Heather Mills scamming Paulie out of his Yesterday money)?
Does it really take a lawsuit from Apple Records to keep the hordes of decrepit Beatles fans from bursting down the door in an attempt to get their grubby hands on a slice of the one decade when their opinions were relevant?
The answer to all of these questions is of course an emphatic yes. I will be the first in line to buy not only the album, but also the accompanying coffee table book detailing its creation. Hooray capitalism!
Also, hey, how was your Easter? My delicious-ham to violent-family-meltdown ratio was up this year...truly, the Lord moves in all of us.
When not blogging for Cracked, Michael harasses the estate of George Martin as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren't Muskets!