The Beatles Go Out on a High Note With Let It Be

If you were to ask me to name my favorite band, I’d quickly answer Simon and Garfunkel, the legendary folk duo recorded together during the 60s. From individual songs to their rise to fame and subsequent break-up, their story has many parallels with another quintessential 60s group: the Beatles.

They lamented lonely lives poorly memorialized (A Most Peculiar Man / Eleanor Rigby). They sang about the anguish caused by the communication gap between parents and children (Save the Life of My Child / She’s Leaving Home) and about companionship in one’s later years (Old Friends / When I’m 64). They presented vivid tributes to roads of personal significance (Bleecker Street / Penny Lane) and used birds as metaphors for people relegated to the fringes of society (Sparrow / Blackbird).

But perhaps the most striking song parallel is between Bridge Over Troubled Water and Let It Be, the title tracks to both bands‘ final albums. Released the same year, both are lengthy, sweeping, piano-driven inspirational songs that draw people together, yet they accompanied the division of the duo and the quartet. They speak of finding comfort in difficult times; both include the gloomy “darkness” and “trouble”, but also the more optimistic “see“ and “shine”.

On most days, if you asked me what my favorite Simon and Garfunkel is, I would probably reply that it’s Bridge. I fluctuate more with the Beatles, but Let It Be is always in the favorites rotation. Paul’s gentle lead vocals grow stronger with each verse, and by the final repetitions of the chorus, it’s hard to resist jubilantly joining in.

It’s a wonderful song for groups of people; my cousin played it on the guitar at my family reunion over the summer as we fumbled our way through the lyrics, and I’ll never forget the spectacle of thousands of people singing along in the dark while holding cell phones at glow sticks aloft at the Super Bowl. There have been many lovely covers of it, and Brooke White’s classy performance of the song during the first American Idol Beatles night was probably my favorite of the season. Of course, nothing can quite compare to the original.

Up until a few years ago, I, like many fans of the song, assumed that “Mother Mary” referred to the Virgin Mary. It was more personal than that, with the song stemming from a dream Paul had about his own deceased mother, who just happened to have the name Mary. I can’t help but suspect the song wouldn’t have carried quite the same power if she’d had any other name. But whichever mother you’re thinking of when you listen to the song, it’s an uplifting ode, a song of faith and fortitude that is most sustaining in trying times. I’m sorry that the song heralded the Beatles’ breakup. But I sure am glad they recorded it.