As soon as I heard John’s voice in the opening lines, I was transported back to December 1980. A 16-year-old schoolboy sitting in a small empty cafe in an outer southern suburb of Brisbane listening to the track Starting Over on the juke box and mourning my songwriting hero’s death. This new song sounds like it could’ve been on the Double Fantasy album. Now and Then has a recurring dreamy quality and Ringo’s beat is beautifully calm, supportive and understated. It filled me with immense joy, sadness and reflection.
I had no idea how emotionally I would react to this song. My youngest brother passed away last year from a brain tumour at 27. He was a big Beatles fan; he chose Beatles songs for his wedding and for his funeral – a lot of people commented that he had the music taste of someone twice his age. I had been wondering, in the lead-up to the release, what he would have thought of the band using AI to finish it, and if he’d have liked the final result.
When I heard the opening lines, and the melancholy in John’s voice, I got chills all over. The sadness of the song encapsulates the emptiness you feel when you lose someone you love, and you know you have to continue on without them. I don’t know if I could have appreciated the song as much without having known this feeling. My brother had a habit of humming Beatles melodies to himself as he was out working in the garden, and I could imagine him singing the Now and Then chorus every time I listened to the song today. I wish my brother had been able to hear it; I think he would have given it a thumbs up. Klara, 33, London
Source:theguardian.com