The Unbearable Lightness of Being Ringo
On the seventh of July, a Monday, amidst the unassuming hum of a world carrying on, Richard Starkey, saw his eighty-fifth year. The name he would later adopt—Ringo Starr—needs, of course, no introduction, yet it is the given name that feels more appropriate for the quietude of the occasion. If the Beatles were a singular, four-headed marvel of the twentieth century, then Ringo was its circulatory system—unshowy, indispensable, and possessed of a swing that was as intuitive as a heartbeat.
To consider Ringo now is to engage in a kind of pop-cultural archaeology, to sift through the strata of mythology that have accumulated over sixty years. He was the drummer, a role often relegated to the background, a subject of gentle, affectionate condescension. And yet, a curious, patient reappraisal has been taking place in recent years, a quiet insurgency against the established hierarchy. Among those who actually play music, Ringo is now spoken of with a certain hushed reverence. His was a talent not bombast but of an unerring internal clock, a rhythmic sensibility that could lend a Lennon confession its serrated edge or allow a McCartney melody to achieve liftoff.
There is a certain irony, lost to the contemporary ear, that in the first flush of Beatlemania, it was Ringo who possessed the most immediate, imitable charisma. The shag of hair, the clatter of rings on his fingers, the dry, almost laconic wit—it was Starr who grounded the band’s otherworldly genius, who gave them a touch of the dance hall and the pub. He was the vital link, the suggestion that these four young men, for all their celestial talent, were still of this earth.
To label him merely “the drummer,” however, is a profound misreading of the context. Ringo’s genius was one of service, to the song, never to his own ego. His fills were not percussive fusillades but deft, narrative flourishes. In fact, the only extended solo he ever took consisted of a few measures in the run-up to the three way guitar pyrotechnics between John, Paul and George near the end of the Abbey Road Medley.
Away from the drum kit, Starr has settled into the unlikely role of a roving ambassador for a kind of doggedly optimistic serenity. His signature phrase “peace and love,” deployed with the frequency and casualness of a mantra, has become his brand statement. There is something profoundly moving in his adherence to this simple credo, a guiding principle that has seen him through the dizzying heights of psychedelia, the profound grief of losing George and John, and the endless, churning weather systems of the Beatles’ legacy. At eighty-five, he remains a fixture on the road, a working musician who concludes each performance with that familiar, two-fingered benediction.
What, then, are we to make of Ringo the survivor? In an enterprise that burned with the intensity of a dying star, he was the quiet anchor, the one who endured the gale-force winds of fame, the descent into addiction, and the slow, arduous climb back to himself. He has lived several lives since the dissolution of the band: a surprisingly deft turn as a character actor, a late-blooming career as a visual artist, and his current, enduring incarnation as an elder statesman of joy.
In an age saturated with cynicism, there is something almost radical about the simple fact that Ringo Starr still appears to be having a rather good time. His annual birthday ritual—a global call for a moment of “peace and love” at noon—is a gesture of charming, almost quixotic hopefulness, like tossing a message in a bottle into the cosmic sea.
Ringo at eighty-five is more than a mere milestone; he is a testament to the virtue of restraint in a culture that fetishizes excess. It is a quiet affirmation that taste, in its own way, is a form of genius. And it is a reminder that sometimes the quietest voice in the room is the one that, in the fullness of time, resonates the most.
History, it seems, is slowly, inexorably, coming around to his point of view. As we find ourselves, perhaps unconsciously, tapping a foot to “With a Little Help From My Friends,” or catching the shimmer of a cymbal in “Something,” we are hearing more than just a Beatle. We are hearing time itself, captured and branded into each of us. Essential tracks defining the soundtrack of our lives.
AT 40 at 55
On the Fourth of July weekend in 1970, America was still catching its breath from the cultural detonation of the previous decade. A new program came to life on just seven radio stations. “Here we go with the Top 40 hits of the nation this week on American Top 40,” the voice intoned. “The best-selling and most-played songs from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from Canada to Mexico.” It didn’t sound like revolution. It sounded like reassurance. Continue reading “AT 40 at 55”
Bobby Sherman – A Quiet Finale
By June 24, 2025, the world had fallen silent—not with the frenzy that once trailed him, but with a gentle stillness. Bobby Sherman, the sweet-faced teen idol of the late 1960s, died at 81, his final days marked by the same modest grace that shaped his life. Continue reading “Bobby Sherman – A Quiet Finale”
Lou Christie – The Voice That Pierced the Sky
To hear a Lou Christie song on Keener for the first time was to experience something more than sound—a kind of pop exclamation mark hurled through a world of four-part harmonies and teenage platitudes. In a musical landscape dominated by the earnest chin-stroking of folk singers and the tight, syncopated machinery of Detroit’s Motown, Christie’s voice arrived like a lightning strike, cutting clean through the Keener airwaves. It was a helium-soaked, heaven-scraping falsetto that didn’t so much sing as spiral—vertiginous, improbable, and entirely unafraid of absurdity. It sounded less like a young man’s croon than the internal monologue of adolescence itself: dramatic, operatic, always on the verge of a glorious crack-up. Continue reading “Lou Christie – The Voice That Pierced the Sky”
The Beatles’ EMI vs. Capitol Albums: How America Remixed the British Invasion
When Beatlemania exploded on Keener, it wasn’t just a cultural phenomenon, it was a marketing war. On one side of the Atlantic stood EMI’s Parlophone label, helmed by producer George Martin and engineer Geoff Emerick, who shaped the Beatles’ artistic journey with a balance of studio innovation and British sensibility. On the other, Capitol Records, EMI’s American subsidiary, played the hits game with a nose for profit. The result? Two Beatles discographies: one curated by the band and their producer, the other chopped, shuffled, and rebranded for U.S. ears.
And those differences? They tell a deeper story about the transatlantic tug-of-war between artistry and commerce. Continue reading “The Beatles’ EMI vs. Capitol Albums: How America Remixed the British Invasion”
Remembering Brian Wilson
There was always a peculiar geometry to the music of Brian Wilson, a sense of vast, sun-bleached space being meticulously organized inside the four walls of a recording studio. To hear of his passing at eighty-two is to imagine the door to that studio finally closing, a quiet click after decades of miraculous, agonizing noise. Continue reading “Remembering Brian Wilson”
Keener Today – June 3
It was a rare moment in time when Steve Schram and I were in the same place without anyone demanding our time. We were both independent agents with a lot more resume paragraphs ahead of us. As was our practice during the days when we roomed together in college, we were sifting through my collection of 45s and reel to reel tapes. Around 3am on June 3, 2002, I threaded the PAMS Clyde jingle demo into the machine and turned up the volume. Continue reading “Keener Today – June 3”
Keener Today – May 24
Today in History:
- 1844 – Samuel F.B. Morse gave the first public demonstration of his telegraph by sending a message from the Supreme Court Chamber in the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C. to the B&O Railroad “outer depot” (now the B&O Railroad Museum) in Baltimore. The famous message was, “What hath God wrought?” Continue reading “Keener Today – May 24”
Keener Today – May 23
What’s happening:
Billy Joel has canceled all upcoming concerts, including a major stadium tour, due to a brain condition called normal pressure hydrocephalus, which has affected his hearing, vision, and balance. The 76-year-old singer is undergoing physical therapy and says he’s “sincerely sorry” to disappoint fans. More. Continue reading “Keener Today – May 23”
Keener Today – May 22
Did You Know:
The Stanley Hotel — famous for inspiring Stephen King’s The Shining — is set to undergo a change in management as Sage Hospitality Group partners with the Colorado Educational and Cultural Facilities Authority to oversee the historic property. The collaboration aims to preserve the landmark’s legacy while generating $45 million over 36 years to support cultural initiatives. Continue reading “Keener Today – May 22”
Keener Today – May 21
Did You Know:
Memory can start to decline as early as your 30s, but simple, science-backed techniques can help keep your mind sharp. From paying closer attention and saying things out loud to creating associations and challenging your brain daily, there are effective ways to strengthen recall and boost long-term memory. Here are some more helpful tips. Continue reading “Keener Today – May 21”
Keener Today – May 20
Did You Know:
How your new ID can make the Airport TSA Line move faster: Some U.S. airports now use Credential Authentication Technology (CAT), allowing travelers to pass through TSA checkpoints with just a photo ID instead of a boarding pass. While this streamlines security, you’ll still need your boarding pass at the gate since airlines don’t have access to CAT systems. https://dailypassport.com/you-no-longer-have-to-show-tsa-your-boarding-pass-at-some-airports/ Continue reading “Keener Today – May 20”
