It’s time.

Sir Paul. Mr. Ringo. It’s time.

It’s time to have one –and only one- final Beatles concert.


Over the past four decades, a couple of you have toured together, or played the occasional concert together as solo artists and accompanists. Sir Paul, you have done a wonderful job, especially in the past decade, of bringing The Beatles music back to life through your concerts. Yet, throughout these years, you have all purposefully, deliberately, and quite understandably, stayed away from any hint of a Beatles reunion.

With the passing of John, now 35 years ago, a complete reunion sadly ascended with him.

You three did graciously and genuinely come back to record a pair of swan songs as tribute to your legacy. Maybe with that final cooperative act, you all had closure to your legacy, feeling that you –and the rest of us- could once and for all carry on.

Especially when George found his release in 2001, the conversation of simply a duo reunion probably seemed trite, even disrespectful, to the BIGNESS of what and who the four of you were and shall always be.

And still I feel, now more than ever, that it’s time.

With no debt to be paid to anyone. With nothing to be gained or lost, proven or repudiated. With no legacy to be transformed or resurrected. With no score to settle, or business to finish. Without shame or piety, pride or hubris. Without agenda or even charity. Without need of anything, beyond the simple joy of basking in the light of The Beatles just one more time.

It’s time for The Beatles to reunite.

Not as a tribute band of Sir John, Mr. Ringo, and any number of legendary musicians doing their best to fill the space of John and George.

The Beatles: Sir Paul, Mr. Ringo, Sean Lennon, Julian Lennon, Dhani Harrison, and Zak Starkey (since Ringo prefers having an accompanist anyway).

Sean, Julian, Dhani, and Zak are all well-established musicians in their own rights. They have not only carried the legacy of their fathers. They have all transcended it. Having the sons of Beatles be called a Beatle for one night would not only honor the memory of their fathers. It would forever immortalize the fact that The Beatles can only ever be McCartney, Lennon, Harrison, and Star.

Sir John. Mr. Ringo. It’s time.

Before you both get any older and inevitably lose your vigor, your voices, and/or your will. Before any one of the remaining six of you ascends to your higher place of being. It’s time to come together one last time to twist and shout, for no one or maybe for all us fools on the hill. It’s time for one final bow. One final curtain call. One final show. Then we may all finally let it all be.