Don't Let Me Down

Richard Furnstein: The Beatles used b-sides in a different way than any other band. Most bands think "Great, we can dump this terrible boogie number written by the bass player on the flip of the latest single" or "Drummer got into dub? Put it on a b-side." Singles are for stupid kids who can't afford the long player, so who cares, right? I'll tell you who cared, man: THE BEATLES. They'd record a song like this, one of the best songs ever written, and then dump it on a b-side just to infuriate Jefferson Airplane and The Hollies and every other also-ran who couldn't even sniff their fumes. Then they'd laugh about it and write like thirty more killer songs. And THEN they'd have the nerve to put a bunch of subpar material on the actual album. Yer Expectations? The Beatles don't care about 'em.

Robert Bunter: It's hard not to like this funky, sultry love call. There's nothing like heroin to help you get in touch with the more pleasant aspects of dazed, heavy-eyelid semi-comatose lethargy, like Lennon does here. It's so nice to just slllllllllooooooooowly mellow out on the E chord with a bunch of tremolo on your amp and moan about your dysfunctionally co-dependent relationship with a manipulative, insane woman that you can use as a wedge to separate yourself from the Beatles and, by extension, the parts of your self that your are unable to openly confront - in the process destroying the most beautiful four-headed force for love, understanding and human communication this Earth has ever known. Self-indulgent Lennon breaks up the Beatles. You heard it here first, folks.

Richard Furnstein: I always loved the "I'm in love for the first time" bridge. It's a beautiful part/sentiment, and you know it just made Cynthia Lennon freak. "Oh, hey baby, our love wasn't actually love. Tuck in Julian for me!"