I wasn't always in love with "Come Together." I hated it as a child, actually.
More than anything, John Lennon's eerie, whispered Shoot me's followed by those echoey handclaps scared the hell out of me when I was little. But there also were his lyrics: not one word seemed to be in its proper place. It was as if he'd taken the language that my little kid brain was still trying to learn and chopped it up before also turning it inside out. It bothered me profusely.
That's why for years when my mother would play Abbey Road (1969), I'd often ask her to start the album with George Harrison's "Something" instead of the Lennon-penned opener.
But then I hit puberty. Half the time, my thoughts and feelings didn't make much sense, and even when they did, I wasn't all that interested in articulating them. Suddenly, Lennon's bizarre, purposely inscrutable lyrics and twisted blues resonated with me, and all of my hormone-fueled moodiness and awkwardness—especially when it came to communication—had a theme song.
Today, I simply appreciate the song as an example of Lennon's genius and humor. I mean, who the hell else could have gotten away with a line like Got to be good lookin', 'cause he's so hard to see?
I also feel this song is a perfect example of how this band was more than the sum of its parts. Would the track be half as memorable without Paul McCartney's slinky bass? Would it be half as sexy without Harrison's understated, upper-octave lead guitar? Would it groove half as hard without Ringo Starr's thumping tom-toms and hi-hat work?
The obvious answer is "no" on all counts.
That's also the reason why no cover version of this song will ever come close to matching the rawness and animal magnetism of the original.
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