As a child born at the end of 1962, I caught the dying gasp of the Beatles run as a band. My family bought a copy of the 45 RPM single Let it Be, released in 1970. I suppose by that time, the band was already a thing of the past, but my older brothers (by one and two years) and I sat in front of the family hi-fi and listened to it repeatedly. The flip side was You Know My Name (Look Up the Number), which, as a music obsessed adult, now strikes me as poorly executed filler, but as a child, it was simply weird, so we never flipped the record over for a break. We just listened to Let It Be and Let It Be and Let It Be.
For the next six years. I immersed myself in popular music. I latched onto the Beach Boys’ Endless Summer, Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, and much of the music that I heard on the radio, Sweet’s Ballroom Blitz, R. Dean Taylor’s Indiana Wants Me, Zeppelin’s Black Dog, etc. Like most young listeners, I gravitated towards whatever songs my preteen classmates played. During that period the Beatles music was everywhere.
For Christmas one year, my mother bought me what is colloquially known as the Beatles Red Album, the hits from 1962-1966. With that album as my launch pad, I sought out other early Beatles compilations, my favorite being Rock ‘n’ Roll Music which I listened to nonstop until my cassette tape stretched out and broke. My mother also bought my brother the Blue Album, hits from 1967-1970. This album spent as much time on the family stereo as the Red Album.
In ninth grade, I fell in with a group of stoners. We spent our afternoons smoking pot, quoting Monty Python, and listening to the Beatles. Being high, we preferred the band’s later, more psychedelic music. I purchased Revolver, Sgt. Pepper, Magical Mystery Tour, The White Album and Abbey Road. I spent countless hours closeted in my bedroom listening to those five albums. I can still, fifty years later, sing along with each LP from beginning to end. The songs on those five Beatles albums remain my favorite to this day.
I give this background as testimony to prove that I’m not a casual Beatles fan. By the end of high school, I identified as a Superfan. Over the decades, I’ve branched out and enjoy most musical genres, but the Beatles still show up annually on my Spotify list of top artists. So, what’s my favorite Beatles song? Don’t Pass Me By, written and sung by Ringo Starr on The White Album.
This morning, for the zillionth time, I read yet another ARTICLE trashing Ringo Starr in general and Don’t Pass Me By specifically. You might ask why Far Out Magazine, a UK pop culture website is reviewing a fifty-seven-year-old song, a song almost twice as old as half the people in the world. I’m not sure. People love to hate on this song. And it’s high time for me to speak up, cuz I’m f*cking sick of it.
Don’t Pass Me By is often cited for its simplicity, tucked in the middle of a double album exalted for its experimental tracks. But as a reminder, the Beatles made their name with simple songs like She Loves You Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Yes, Don’t Pass Me By lacks the complexity, lyricalness, and depth of many Beatles songs, but it might very well be the most fun. No other song by the Beatles, or maybe any other band I know of, makes me want to sing along like Don’t Pass Me By.
The title of the article I read: “Is ‘you were in a car crash, and you lost your hair’ the worst lyric the Beatles ever wrote?” by Reuben Cross. It’s true, the song does include this unfortunate line:
I’m sorry that I doubted you, I was so unfair
You were in a car crash, and you lost your hair
You said that you would be late, about an hour or two
I said that’s alright, I’m waiting here, just waiting to hear from you
But the line isn’t the only complaint Cross has with the song. In his article, before he starts digging into this one lyric, he slams the backing track: “The honky-tonk piano and bluegrass violins are grating to say the least.” I disagree, Mr. Cross. The bluegrass flair is what makes the song amazing. In fact, as a one-time Beatles Superfan, it’s my opinion that those violins might be the most charming aspect of the entire White Album.
In the second to last paragraph, Cross briefly addresses the lost your hair line “at no other point does (Starr) mention the person he is pining over suffering from traumatic alopecia.” I don’t know if Cross is being willfully ignorant, trying to be funny, or is just stupid, but ‘lost your hair’ is clearly an idiom that was in usage when the song was written—much like ‘lost your mind’ or ‘lost your shit.’
Regardless, the White Album easily has worse lyrics. The very next song on the album goes like this (repeated three times, and that’s the whole song):
Why don’t we d-do it in the road?
Why don’t we do it in the road?
Why don’t we do it in the road? Hmm
Why don’t we do it in the road?
No one will be watching us
Why don’t we do it in the road?
Much better? Absolutely, people say, because the song was written by Paul McCartney. The hate directed towards Don’t Pass Me By is part of a snobbishness against Ringo Starr so many rock critics have embraced over the decades. Three of the Beatles were touched by the divine. George Harrison, McCartney and John Lennon all channeled something otherworldly during their stint with the Beatles. Ringo Starr, critics say lucked into the mix.
That’s bullshit. Starr was a solid drummer, and the fab four finally clicked when he joined the band. He just might be the mysterious force that corralled those three supernovas together into a cohesive unit that worked. Starr only wrote a couple of songs for the Beatles, and Don’t Pass Me By is easily the best. Give my song a break, before I lose my hair.
The Other Stuff 
For people of your and my ages (I’m two years younger)… thank goodness for the red, blue, and “silver” albums. So many of us discovered a wealth of treasure in them before we were big enough to go and pick out “regular” albums on our own.
My favorite Ringo moments are any filmed footage of him playing and singing one of his numbers. He brings the voice with as much commitment as any of them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And those K-Tel compilations. Preview to the mix tape and spotify playlists.
LikeLike
Oh, absolutely! My mom got me two of those from the drugstore when I was, like, eight or nine. She didn’t know anything about rock music but I think she wanted me to be hip to what the young people liked! I can still tell you some of the circa-1972 songs I sang along with on those.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Merci pour ce texte passionné et profondément honnête. On sent à quel point votre relation avec les Beatles est intime, construite au fil d’une vie. Votre défense de Don’t Pass Me By rappelle une vérité souvent ignorée : la musique n’a pas besoin d’être complexe ou célébrée par les critiques pour toucher et accompagner.
J’ai apprécié la manière dont vous replacez cette chanson dans l’histoire personnelle, culturelle et linguistique de son époque. Il est facile, aujourd’hui, de juger un vers ou une intention avec le recul.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I’m posting a translation of this comment because you said so succinctly what I tried to say in 1000 words: Thank you for this passionate and profoundly honest piece. One can sense how intimate your relationship with the Beatles is, built over a lifetime. Your defense of “Don’t Pass Me By” reminds us of an often-ignored truth: music doesn’t need to be complex or critically acclaimed to move and resonate.
I appreciated how you placed this song within the personal, cultural, and linguistic history of its time. It’s easy, these days, to judge a line or an intention with hindsight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Jeff. Your reply truly touched me.
I wrote my comment simply as a reader moved by your honesty, and I’m grateful that you received it with such generosity.
I also want to share something more personal with you. Here in my country, finding stable employment has become extremely difficult. The economic situation and the lack of opportunities often leave people like me feeling invisible or forgotten. Reading your reflections — so open, so human, so full of sincerity — reminds me that words still have the power to connect us, even across borders and very different realities.
Your dedication to writing, the way you turn personal experiences into something meaningful for others, is inspiring. Please keep doing what you do. Your voice matters, and it brings comfort far beyond what you might imagine.
Thank you again for taking the time to acknowledge my comment. It meant more than you know.
Warm regards,
Bruce-Lee St-Germain
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the love and vitriol here Jeff, and to hearing from you again! Belt it from the way backs of 62 and those double album comps. Had the same ones myself. Barbara Bach, that’s all I’ve got to say. (Compare to the other band mates’ lady friends? Not a fair comparison.)
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL. A good measure of a person’s worth? Maybe. From what I understand, he’s a great guy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m not exactly enamored of the song but Ringo was a generous, supportive dummer. I doubt that the fab four would have been the fab three without him.
I hope all is going well for you and yours Jeff
Kind regards
DD
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks DD. Re: the song, in retrospect it’s quite americana. I wonder if that’s the appeal to me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great to see you back. We weren’t all Beatles fans back in the day, many preferring The Stones, who were definitely cooler and came from my neck of the woods, Plus the Beatles were definitely not rock and roll. (I was born in 1944) It wasn’t until years later that I appreciated their music, especially the later stuff written when ‘under the influence.’
I loved The Fool On The Hill. Sorry I can’t comment on Ringo’s song. I just didn’t buy their stuff. As a girl I was outraged by the stupid haircuts and suits.
We enlightened in England are still hanging on in there despite our totally compromised media and Government. So, I can now truly empathise with that ‘fool’ on the hill. Those boys were special and came with a message.
Best wishes for 2026 MM
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sigh, I can’t really argue because it wasn’t my time and I didn’t live it, but in retrospect, I think the Beatles certainly cut their teeth as a rock & roll band, but much like the Clash (my fave) after them, they quickly branched out into other genres and experimental tracks. The stones, cooler? I guess it depends on your taste. Pretty hard to out-cool George Harrison. I hope England and the rest of Europe can hang onto democracy. The US won’t return for decades. Stupid haircuts & suits? LOL. Didn’t they all do that back them?
LikeLike
Yes, everybody followed the haircut and we entered a period of rubbish music away from the likes of Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard and all the other greats from late-50’s early 60’s As a 16/17 year old West London girl, the Stones had edge the Beatles didnt. My first LP was Roy Orbison and 64 Ricky Nelson
I stopped buying music until the likes of N ilson, Simon & Garfunkle, Carole King, Carly Simon, Neil Diamond, second time around Neil Sedaka, King Crimson, etc, etc. 1972 was, in my opinion, a golden age for song writers and music. I was raised on big bands, Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughan, Frank Sinatra et al so as a fan of the Clash much later your head was obviously in a different space.
As a psychic and meditation teacher I don’t do chaos. Take your consciousness into the multi dimensional cosmic, that’s the message I am trying to get out there to the young. Remember who you are … We are one
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now I remember that song. Agree with your assessment. And … you’re back.
Welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not really ‘back’, just popped in to say hi. I’m writing daily, but it’s a big project and will take a good while. But happy to see you Margaret.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can’t say that I was a huge fan of the Beatles, but I liked a number of their songs back in the day. Hey Jude pops to mind at the moment. And I can understand how a particular song or artist can resonate with someone. I think music is a personal preference. For me, I like a particular song because it touches me in some way—but maybe nothing else that the artist writes/sings. For instance, I still listen to Janis Joplin’s rendition of Me and Bobby McGee but really nothing else of hers. It was a nice surprise to see you pop up in “blog world.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
As a spin instructor, I spend a lot of time listening to one-off songs by tons of artists. There are gobs of bands where I only like a few songs despite their stature as one of the ‘great’ bands in history. I agree with Janis & the Bobby McGee song. The resto of her recordings hit me wrong. I’m glad I posted. I suspect I will every now and then. Writing nonfiction flexes different muscles and I found mine pretty rusty.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m with you on Ringo, a great drummer who always played EXACTLY what the song needed, no more no less – a very great skill. You never hear other drummers dissing him, in fact they always praise his unique style and how hard it is to replicate.
I like “Don’t Pass Me By” too, and agree it’s his best song for The Beatles. I deeply respect that your favourite Beatles song is a Ringo song, and whilst it’s nowhere near my favourite, I do love its country charm. That hair line always made me laugh, like so many Beatles lines – they never took themselves as seriously as so many others did.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Right, not every drummer needs to be Keith Moon (although I absolutely love Moon’s drumming) but it isn’t what the Beatles needed. I’m happy to have a knowledgeable Beatles fan back me up here, this essay is getting published next week in an international online magazine. I’m expecting pushback.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hope you don’t get too much pushback. You can remind them that silliness was so much in The Beatles’ blood that they chose to finish the last album the recorded in the studio not with big statement “The End”, but with the nonsense ditty “Her Majesty”. Ringo tapped into exactly that kind of charming silliness with “Don’t Pass Me By”, which is why it holds up well on The White Album.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We spent our afternoons smoking pot, quoting Monty Python, and listening to the Beatles… in Ninth Grade? Man, you were advanced.
As for Ringo, I love this apocryphal quote: “Ringo may have not been the best drummer, but he was the best drummer for the Beatles.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Bruce, I love the Ringo quote. Advanced maybe only in my penchant to hang out like a failing college student. In every other way I was thoroughly regressive. Looking forward to the end of your countdown.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A truly fantastic read. Your writing style is both engaging and informative.
LikeLike