Popular Culture Review Vol. 27, No. 1, Winter 2016 | Page 74

endless amount of cinematographic  soundtracks,  The  Beatles’  catalog  is  sill   untouchable and no original version of their songs can ever be heard in any film. Another  striking  example  of  The  Beatles’  boundless  freedom  is  the  B  side  of  their   very last album, Abbey Road, which includes a long medley unfit for radio playing by any stretch of the imagination, as if it being played therefore promoted by the radio did not matter anymore. By then, The Beatles privileged relationship with their recipient was such an accepted fact that it was no longer an issue, a luxury that no artist in the music business could afford today: suffice to remember the desperate efforts Miley Cyrus did during the 2013 MTV Video Music Awards in order to solicit public attention, where, scantly dressed in a latex bikini, she simulated a copulation with a male singer on stage, to  feel  the  pressure  of  today’s  laws  of  spectacle.  By  opposition,  one  can  think  of  the   John Lennon and Yoko Ono album entitled Unfinished Music No. 1: Two Virgins, the cover of which showed both artists in their birthday suits – the album was at the time sold  under  wrapping  paper  to  prevent  further  scandal.  Whereas  Lennon  and  Ono’s   move was purely personal, a bit avant-garde and furthermore contained no sexual innuendo of any kind, that of Cyrus is purely provocative and highly sexualized, very much functioning along the semiotic codes of mere publicity, as the artist is irremediably spectacularized. On the contrary, once they had achieved success and recognition, fairly early on in their careers, The Beatles, as senders, never had to struggle to establish a positive, stimulating relationship with their recipient, nor to work at maintaining it, and that is what allowed them to create freely and to grow as artists, not only musically but lyrically as well.  One  of  their  later  songs,  “Get  Back,”  is  perhaps  one   of the best illustration of this lyrical freedom, for it openly tackles very touchy subjects such as marijuana and especially transexualism, a long time before Lou Reed: “Jojo  left  his  home  in  Tucson  Arizona  for  some  California  Grass  (…) Sweet Loretta Martin thought she was a woman, but she was another man.” The coda added in one of the studio versions after a false ending is more provocative yet: “Get  back  Loretta, Your mommy waiting for you, Wearing her high heel shoes, And her low neck sweater, Get  back  home  Loretta…” (“Get  Back”) Much before sexual fluidity was in the air – not mentioning the legalization of cannabis – The Beatles were already evoking themes that would become major issues in the decades to come, as true artists often do, and the receiver welcomed this new message without expecting any other effort or intention from the senders other that of pleasing themselves – again, as true artists. The one to the last project of The Beatles, the would-be live, down to earth film and record Let it Be (originally entitled Get Back) shows as well how The Beatles 73