Toodledo, Quicksilver, and Lion in MacOSX
For some time, I’ve been using Quicksilver to send messages to Toodledo, my default task management system. I did this using a script that relied on “Keychain Scripting”, but that isn’t included in Lion — presumably because it’s got some security flaw.
I tried a number of other keychain gadgets and attempts to pass information to Toodledo by way of Twitter … but those didn’t work either … too much oAuth noise.
So I opted to go by way of Ruby, which is included in Lion by default (at least I have it on my system — if you don’t, get it installed somehow).
This post is really for myself — but I hope it helps anybody else who is struggling as well.
- At Terminal, type: “sudo gem install toodledo”
- Then type “toodledo setup”
- In there, you’ll see a link to the Toodledo API page — which claims to be deprecated, but leads you to API 2.0. Find the MD5 hash for your userID … if you don’t see anything, log into Toodledo first and then go get the userID hash
- Return to Terminal, and put in the hash as your userID and type your normal password as the password
At this point, you should be configured to “talk” to Toodledo directly from the command line. You can test this by typing this in Terminal:
toodledo add testing123
If you get a statement telling you that a task was added — go check your Toodledo and you’ll see that it’s there. Yay … the more difficult part is done.
Now, open AppleScript Editor and put this into it:
(* A script to allow Quicksilver to send text to a Ruby on Rails "Gem" named toodledo. It implements a CLI statement based on the gem - toodledo add <text> to create a toodledo entry. Typing "toodledo setup" on the CLI creates the authentication needed for the gem to work. v0.2 - added syntax for silencing "Task <number> added." response from Toodledo # I have a blog entry on how to use this - http://www.cpunk.com/?p=774 # http://toodledo.rubyforge.org/toodledo/ is where the basic tool comes from *) using terms from application "Quicksilver" on process text qsText -- qsText is the text fed in from Quicksilver, this cleans it up set toodleTask to quoted form of qsText -- build the command line statement (Example: toodledo add "my thing to do") -- uncomment the one you want --this version returns confirmation #set unixToodle to "toodledo add " & toodleTask --this version silences the confirmation feedback by redirecting output to /dev/null set unixToodle to "toodledo add " & toodleTask & " 2>&1 >/dev/null" -- run it on the command line, as the current user do shell script unixToodle end process text end using terms from
Then save it into ~/Library/Application Support/Quicksilver/Actions as something like “toodledo.scpt”
Restart Quicksilver.
Now, using Quicksilver:
- trigger QS (e.g. CMD+space)
- hit “.” to go into text mode
- type “testing 456″
- tab over to the action list
- scroll down until you see “toodledo.scpt”
- Hit enter
If all was done correctly, (and Quicksilver is set up to see the actions subdirectory), then you’ve created a task from Quicksilver.
Flight day — I did WHAT all over the Russian air? (Part 1)
The day of — Pat and were picked up by Irena, a very nice (and pretty) woman who was our primary translator, and she and our driver, Sergey, took us to the airfield.
On the way to the airfield, we drove from “upper Nizhny”, where the university and hotel were located, down into “lower Nizhny” which is the industrial center. During the entire drive, Irena recited fact after fact about the city, it’s output, it’s factory types and capacity — it was amazing how much she knew, and also very clear how proud they all still were for the significance of this city.
During Soviet times, Nizhny was incredibly important to the USSR. This city was a primary source of MiG development, testing, and production — as well as also being a major manufacturing location for their higher-end cars. It’s clear that the people living here are still adjusting to the idea that they have a different mission now — and are not a cog in a machine as much as they are a cog sitting in the middle of a field that is the open market.
As Irena put it quite a few times, lower Nizhny is very “soviet” still. That means that it’s basically very utilitarian, very factory-centric, and now it’s also quite run-down. There are many tenement style buildings that are in mixed states of disrepair — but people are still living their lives effectively in this environment; it’s a scramble to make ends meet, I would guess, but they all look out for each other as well — and I’m sure that the influx of revenue related to the Sokol Test Facility has some positive effect on the area, but the best resource currently is an IT development infrastructure that includes a plant from Intel. However, with a city of 1.8 million people, it’s still a lot of mouths to feed in a down economy. As I said to Kathy, in many ways it felt like Africa, with better infrastructure; lots of people living at the poverty line or just above, going from day to day and not having the luxury to think about tomorrow or next week.
Nizhny, and Sokol Airbase, btw, were deep dark military secrets during the Soviet era. Even up to 6 years ago, it was a challenge to visit certain areas because of this tradition of secrecy; so getting onto the base was amazing to begin with — but the level of access was profound.
As we entered the Airbase, we did the standard security check, which was done by guards, not military personnel — the test facility has become a joint ownership privatized endeavor with the Government. They continue to make MiGs and so forth, I believe (we didn’t get to see that part), but it’s very clear that a facility that was originally set up to employ and involve thousands of people is now holding a handful at best … it was often very eerie. Lots of rust and chipped paint, but still an operational facility.
After making it onto the base, we were escorted to the base museum. This was a building of high former-Soviet pride that greeted State dignitaries and basically propagandized the importance of this particular facility. A LOT of amazing things came out of this facility, including the entire line of MiGs (13,000 variations (I double-checked that number)). It served as a primary base for the community, and until the fall of the USSR, the idea was basically that the factory existed, the city existed for the factory, and you as a worker were part of the factory, and thus lived in this city.
The tour was pretty cool, there were quite a number of personal artifacts from significant people, and we even got a chance to sit in an ejector seat that is identical to the one in the MiG-29.
I took a lot of pictures and showed respect and interest for each facet. The leader of our adventure (Oleg) eventually barked about moving faster (in Russian), which I think was an indicator that not many guests take time to really peruse the museum — so I hope our museum host was properly honored — it was an impressive tour.
So, off to the airbase itself!
We drove across the facility, into snowy woods that looked like James Bond was going to leap out of them at any second, chased by dogs, to run across the road we were on. Even though he didn’t appear, the approach was still satisfying — it was REALLY trippy knowing that I was basically just, you know, rolling up into the heart of the Soviet machine … you know … fer like a chance to play with one of their toys and stuff?
It’s important to understand something at this point. I think, for the most part, Russians have been “programmed” to align themselves to the rules for the record, and then completely disregard them in operation.
When we got to the main administrative building (which was somewhat run-down, but not terribly so — there was no rust, but the paint on the floors was shot, for example) … we were lead to a meet-and-greet with the pilots.
This is where things got a little interesting.
All through the trip, Pat was putting his hand behind his ear and saying, “What?” — he’d been doing it for days. He admitted (which I already knew) that he is having trouble hearing… but I think it was the rich Slavic accents that really did him in. So, instead of hearing “Moose and Squirrel will put on G-suits for preparation to flying MiG” — he would hear “Moo — irrel — put on — G-for paration to ingmig” … and then turn to me, at which point I would say the exact same thing and he’d understand.
The unfortunate result of that was a LOT of worried glances from all the Russians, who were concerned he might not be able to hear the comms during flight. He (and I) assured them that he didn’t have a problem that bad, and when there wasn’t a lot of extra background noise, he could often follow things.
However, in addition to this, Pat does not like change.
So during the briefing, his pilot, Yuri, was obviously worried about Pat’s age and said that they would do a number of maneuvers, but Pat would not get the stick. Pat had been hoping to do an Inverted-S (ha), but aside from that was pretty desirous to not be treated like a little girl. Well, Pat didn’t respond well, and I had to diplomatically face down the pilots and convince them to let him fly the way he wanted. Which they did.
However … during the conversation, he got very tense — which was just great … because right after that, we went for our blood pressure test. His read 186/120 or some horrifyingly high thing … so let’s stop the flight, right? Of course not — this is all fake anyway … the lady explained to us that his pressure was high because he was excited — get in plane, give us money … trust me.
So, for the right amount of money and cajoling, ANYBODY can fly a MiG, I promise you — it’s perfectly safe.
MiG Takeoff Audio
Here’s a small sampler — headed back to Moscow, getting ready for plane.
Time dilated during the takeoff — for me, the experience will always be remembered as “woooooooooooooooooooooo haaaaahaaaaahaaaaaa!!!!” … but clearly it was not quite that long
Afterburners, Vertical Takeoff, wooha!
Notes:
- We taxi, then we fly down the funway at 600km, then we go vertical in afterburner
- When the takeoff begins, the sound garbles for a minute — but then it clears — so hang in there
- When he reminds me to put my head back, that is when we go vertical
- The alarm you hear is indicating we have traversed the 7G recommended limit line (we went 8G)
- 4.5km is 2.8 miles — from the time I put my head back to the time to the time I finish my “woo” is about 4km
- When he asks me how I am, that is to ensure I have not passed out
- Please note that the file takes a minute to start loading, but it will stream after it buffers some at the beginning
…and so it begins…
Freakin’ Out!
So it’s the morning before flight day — we’re in Nizhny, in a pretty nice little hotel in the middle of town. I’m totally awake — a blend of jet lag turned around and anticipation. I’m REALLY excited about this — a little nervous, but in all the right ways.
Once complete, Pat will be the oldest dude to ever complete this program, which is pretty awesome. He seems in pretty good spirits as well.
Oleg, the program’s Director has offered me the “rare opportunity” to upgrade our flight program to include a vertical take-off (which is pretty awesome, I must admit), a parabolic flight (for weightlessness), and some sort of intense landing like the Cosmonauts. It is discounted “this day only” but you must pay in cash. I’m likely game, but we’ll have to see if I can get the cash.
He has told me that they will give me the raw video footage, alongside their own edited version — so I got that going for me.
We’re told to have a light breakfast, no coffee just tea, and Irena (our host in Nizhny) will come and get us at 8:30am. It is currently 4:50am — so I’m just bouncing a little bit. Pretty stoked, slightly nervous, did I mention that?
Circus and Caviar
This is just a quick note — on Sunday, while in Moscow, Pat and I opted to go to the circus. It was quite awesome, and I had the opportunity to see tigers:

…and we had a really neat, if strange time.
After that — we went out to dinner at a great restaurant (probably a tourist trap, but so what?) — and had caviar. Pat and I camped it up about a Redneck having caviar, and finished up the night with some Cuban cigars!
Pretty surreal being in Moscow with Pat, going to the circus and then having caviar and cubans — but I guess, if you add it all up — Circus, Caviar, Cubans, and Pat — you get CCCP … which ultimately makes sense.
Seattle — Frankfurt — Moscow — Day 1
We arrived last night at around 7pm, and got through the airport pretty easily. After so many hours on planes, it was nice to be able to walk around.
The flight from Seattle to Frankfurt, Germany was quite nice. We were in business class, so we had nice luxurious seats and all the amenities short of First Class. Pat seemed to enjoy that flight immensely.
When we got to Frankfurt, we wandered around for a little while looking at stuff, and then found a Lufthansa Business Lounge to attend. They served frankfurters, which I consider quite wonderful considering the location.
They also had showers, so I took one — which, at the time, felt completely luxurious.
Тхе леаст И цан до (“The Least I can do”)
It’s time for me to make and explain an observation I am developing about Russians. They ascribe, with seemingly no malice whatsoever, to what I am going to call a global philosophy of “the least I can do.” This is a strange and rough-edged blend of frugality, conservation, maybe rebellion, and downright stubbornness that is unique to these people. As I travel, I will continue to review this theme — which wraps around the idea that if you ask a Russian to open the door, he will open it and walk away, letting it close before you get there. What’s oddly wonderful about it all is that well — it’s universal — so nobody seems to mind or care …
The Flight from Frankfurt to Moscow
As an opening example: the flight from Frankfurt to Moscow was a little different than the first flight, but still pleasant. In keeping with the “least I can do” mentality of Russia, the plane was not set up with anything “special” for business class — in fact, all the seats throughout the plane were identical, 3 seats to a side. Business class was defined by a curtain on a rod that could be moved back and forth — so on one flight, business class might be the first 3 rows, but on the next flight, move the curtain, now it’s the first 10 rows.
However, if that was all — it would just seem lazy and maybe even a little fraudulent. But instead, the true meaning of “the least I can do” … they put a little sign on the middle seats in business class that says you can use this space as well. So Pat and I basically got two seats with a seat between us — presto, Russian Business Class.
The flight was quite lovely in that context — and a good adjustment for the Russian experience of efficient “least-iness.” We were given a nice meal (Pat had the beef, I had the fish, which was really yucky, but that’s on me). The staff were friendly and we sat it out for a few hours, bringing it all home into Moscow for arrival.
We got through passport control pretty easily, and then found our host, Alexi. He is a very nice man, and our true host’s husband. She has the flu and couldn’t make it.
The feel I immediately got was that our host was sick, asked her husband to come and get us, he called a buddy and went to the airport to get the Americans — no pomp, no circumstance, just “go and get them and be quite pleasant.” Any other tour of this magnitude would likely put on a show, but this was quirky and fun … clearly efficient and low cost — very Russian, very leasty.
We chatted on the way in, had some fun looking at Russian things, and made loose plans for the next day and the day after in Moscow, prior to the train-trip.
We saw the Kremlin on our way in (every city in Russia has a kremlin, btw — it basically means “castle” in Russian).
Once we got to the hotel, there was some fun trying to get the men inside to come and well … open the door for us — they could see us, they stared right at us — but seemed momentarily bewildered that we would want them to, you know, come out and help with our bags … being porters and all, I expect they figured if we brought the bags TO them, they’d be happy to move them somewhere else.
We checked in, and I was momentarily bemused that the front desk of this high-end hotel (which has housed all the major stars and dignitaries, according to the pictures on the walls) was sporting a CRT monitor, non-windows based check-in software (like “black screen, punch a function key, no mouse”) and big IBM clicky keyboards. In leastiness, this is “why fix? it still work, yes?” — see? Leastiness isn’t necessarily a negative — it’s just highly different and often frugal to the point of shock.
We got to our rooms and basically passed out. Internet was working for a while, they have wifi — so I posted a few pictures to Facebook and went to bed.
The Inevitable Room Change
So, when I woke up this morning, I wanted to take a shower. I went into the bathroom and realized that the sink is tiny and the shower is dark — the bathroom was laid out strangely because of the shape of that particular room, which was on a corner. Well, as everybody who knows me knows — it’s time for the room change.
Pat and I had made a plan to email each other in the AM saying we were awake, so neither of us would unfairly wake the other. But with Internet out, he called me (I was already awake) and told me that there was no restaurant food for breakfast, but they did have room service. This, plus the tiny room, were beginning to activate my worry light a little bit.
I took my strange little dark shower, in my strange little bathroom (picture it this way — you come in and the sink is to your left, with the walls to the sink DIRECTLY at the sides of the sink, so it’s in a little alcove, basically. Next to the sink, off to the left a bit is the toilet, and then lining the back wall is the shower. Now when you turn on the light (the light-switch is outside in another room (presumably because wiring a switch in a bathroom would take extra work and void “leastiness”)), when you turn on the light, a single bulb flickers on over the sink, in the alcove — and in a deep and flat-faced slavic blue, it reflects as much as it dare give you against the walls to the shower. Dark shower, small sink — 6 and a half foot tall American man — room change!).
Once the shower was over, I was going over the options in my mind calmly (yay!) and Pat called back and said there WAS breakfast, in fact he was headed down there now. So, I headed down also!
This is what greeted me:
As you’ll see, that is a marble working fountain behind Pat, and in the video that I’m posting to Facebook, you’ll hear the live HARP MUSIC that was playing in the background.
This brings me to item number two of the Russian motif…
Тхе Мост тхат цан бе доне (“The Most that can be done”)
Somewhere in the blend of this entire process, there is a deep-seated line of reasoning that Russians have to continue offering opulence when asked for it, as if the Romanovs still ruled. This is The Most that can be done. I’ll call it “mostiness.” In this motif, they go to the very top, treating your eggs to a suite of Harp music and antique glass, with hand-pulled cappuccinos and smoked salmon buffet.
I think that leastiness and mostiness go hand in hand … it’s seems as if a Russian can’t do anything but the most — so they must offer you nothing … or die of exhaustion. So, in mostiness, if you ask a Russian to hold the door, he will get three of his friends and carry you to your room on a velvet litter like … well… a Romanov. Since acting in this fashion regularly would surely kill him and all his friends — the Russian is, instead, forced to pursue leastiness, which means opening the door and walking away.
Interestingly, even during this opulence, Pat and I both chuckled at the leastiness quality of putting signs up to identify some of the things on the table. Like “this is marmalade, that is butter, good luck with the rest.” We’ve already seen this quality in some of the signage — “the rooms to your left are 4402–4439, good luck with the rooms to your right” and so forth.
After breakfast, I had a final blended experience of mostiness/leastiness all at once … which made my head spin.
I went to the front desk, and asked the Concierge for ideas about what we can do for entertainment. This man pulled out a booklet (no silly expensive computers here!) and began reviewing what tickets might be available (for cash) … we almost got tickets to the Bolshoi, but then he offered a true Russian Circus — which was most fun …
While chatting with this “mostiness” man, I think my varied questions and desire to bounce ideas was starting to give him a minor heart-attack, his hands started shaking a bit, and he kept struggling to offer me alternatives besides the circus … which basically were … the circus.
Eventually, we went for the circus — and I’ll be posting stories and pictures on that in a little while.
Meanwhile — in the leastiness category — I moved 10 feet to my right at the same desk and asked if I could change my room to another one (I visited Pat’s room and saw that his bathroom was laid out better, with a larger sink and the shower positioned in such a way that the sink light gives it ample lighting).
The woman behind the desk did a nice dance of pretending to look at something on the ancient CRT computer … then said, “No, we cannot give you a room.”
“Really? None are available?”
Fake click, fake click, click fake click.
“No … no … ummm… no. Perhaps Monday?”
Now, I’m thinking about the breakfast room and the fact that there were maybe 5 other people in there with us. I’m thinking that MAYBE, just POSSIBLY, this hotel that has hundreds of rooms per floor might have another room somewhere.
“So, you’re saying the hotel is full?”
At this point, I’d outlined a reasoning that she could not deny …
“No. But you see … no.”
“Ok — what’s the most expensive room in the hotel?”
…pause…
“Well, the President’s Suite.”
“Is that available?”
“Well, yes, but it’s about 90,000 per night.”
“So, that’s about $3,000 per night? Ok.”
Pause — system overload — cannot compute. (Uh oh — this guy might be a Romanov!)
Then I said, “Ok, now that’s pretty expensive — but I could do it if I had to — but maybe there’s something between that room and mine that I could upgrade to?”
“Well, one moment please…”
Pick up phone, talk to someone at length in Russian.
“Sir, we have a few rooms available that are bigger than your room.”
“Can I see one?”
…who is this man who is asking me to show him rooms? He is not even dressed well…
While I waited, I strolled over to my circus friend, who was now covered in flop sweat and figuring out how to get the tickets paid. I would have to pay in cash, and he would carefully put the cash in this envelope, and then you come down in two hours and your tickets will be in this envelope, yes?
Back over to the front desk to check on the rooms … my helper has left the position…
Back to concierge — let me see how much Ruble cash I have on me … not quite enough…
BTW, during the whole time that the Concierge Sergey, (who is wonderful) was helping us — there was a young woman standing next to him, who could have been a trainee, perhaps — who never said anything — but always looked like she was just about ready to kill him, or perhaps me. Moose and Squirrel will die at this Concierge desk today, I am sure. Perhaps she was the reason that Sergey was all flop sweat and shakes … she never spoke (well, until I spoke to her, just to mix it up — asked if she spoke English, told her we’re getting on MiGs … that likely made her think).
Back to my unhelpful friend at the front desk, Julia (pronounced Yoolia). She has put on her jacket (which identifies her), and is now going to show me rooms. She shows me one with a bigger bed, but exactly the same deformed bathroom — so I demonstrate how my gigantic body cannot really use the sink … then she does that slavic smile that says “I understand and agree with you, I am your friend, until we meet another Russian, then I will kill you.”
She took me to another room, good bathroom, big room — and here I am … Internet at the ready, posting this post. It was the least I could do.
What’s Actually Happening
There are two kinds of tasks — generalized and specialized.
A generalized task is something like digging a ditch, if you are an able-bodied human with a basic level of communication skills and the right tools, you can dig a ditch with some passing amount of success.
A specialized task is something that requires additional skills, knowledge, or natural ability that make said task unavailable to the general populace. A good example would be the task of painting a master work of art. It is a task only available to those with an inherent gift for art, and at the extreme only those with a gift and years of training. So these specialists are a smaller group of people capable of creating a master work of art.
Now, come with me in your mind to pre-prehistoric times … back before the wheel. In this world, you can see that while the general task of stabbing a small creature in order to eat was necessarily available to everyone, the ability to move a large and heavy creature a significant distance was a specialized skill reserved for those cavemen with huge upper-body strength. Since larger creatures provide more food, the big strong guys get the ladies and poof, Darwinian theory takes a step forward thanks to, well … the upper body strength of Darwin’s ancestors.
Then along comes the wheel.
All of the sudden, it doesn’t require massive upper body strength to carry that elk back to the cave; now just about anybody with the ability to walk can get that thing moving. The formerly specialized skill has become a generalized skill by virtue of the application of a simple machine.
Ok, swoop back to the present day.
We’re not talking wheel here, we’re talking computer and network communication. Now, thanks to these primitive tools, just about any idiot can write and publish a book, record his/her version of harmony in the key of C, and discover the answer to just about any common question. The need for upper-brain strength is diminished in many departments.
Ironically, our caveman friends were witness to a deterioration of the advantage of upper-bodied specialists at the onset of the wheel. Now there are more cavemen competing for the bigger prey, and the strength of the generalist begins to surpass that of the specialist. You see, generalists tend to need to work in groups and in more common arenas with other generalists because they must overcome their weaknesses… while specialists can work in more isolated space, relying on nobody. So when the playing field is leveled, the generalists actually have the advantage because they know how to work in a team, while the specialists find themselves struggling to keep up. Eventually, the specialists die off and the generalists forward the gene pool.
On the Internet, this is observable in many ways. We see the specialty of the “journalist” being over-run by the hordes of generalist bloggers (hey, like me!). We (maybe a little sadly) see the specialist skills of a bookstore owner over-run by the generalist abilities of Amazon employees working in groups — and we even see the long-term transition of major specialist kingdoms like Hollywood and the Music Industry being eroded slowly by generalist forces (YouTube and imgur, e.g.) Hollywood and the music industry (specialists) quake in fear as more independent sound and video (mostly bad, but some good) arrives on the web … people are bypassing the specialist facilitators and taking their generalist abilities to the field more quickly.
So, one way of watching what’s going on is to realize that the Internet, aka the modern-day wheel, is leveling playing fields everywhere — LOLCatz, which would never have survived in a pre-wheel universe, is now a commonplace notion to the point of being passe, YouTube is the opportunity for everyone to be a star, reddit lets everyone be a pundit, and movie theaters and bookstores are dying off.
Is this a bad thing? I don’t think so. It may be sad that some specialization is going away — but humanity benefits from these “wheel moments” … so I’m all for it. But then again, I’m just another generalist with an opinion, right?
Random Thoughts
- You don’t look into mirrors to see things you want to hide.
- It’s only when we smile that we open our hearts.
- If you eat only what feeds you, you will never enjoy what God has to offer that will make you grow.
- I never met a man I already knew.
- If you skip down the road on a sunny day, you’ll always remember your childhood.
- If tomorrow is as good as yesterday, then today is the middle of a good time.
- You don’t have to remember everything to figure something out.
- I ate a bug once, but not on purpose.
- I smiled into a lake the other day, it responded with sunlight.
- I love my wife, she told me why I’m a man, I built her a world to thank her.
- I made a cake in my mind once, but I couldn’t remember how.
- I need to write to be complete, watch this space.
Goodreads | Malcolm Mead The United States’s review of Here, There and Everywhere
Here, There and Everywhere by Geoff Emerick
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Geoff Emerick has the privilege of being the man who can claim to have done more direct engineering for the Beatles and subsequently the solo artists than anybody else. He also can boast some serious chops as a gifted engineer in his own right.
In the book, he talks about his experiences, primarily in the control room during sessions, in and around the Beatles. Imagine that your job involved something historic happening over there, in the conference room, and now you’re able to tell stories about how the people looked, acted, reacted and changed over time — that’s the intimacy you get with the book.
Interestingly, Emerick thinks like an engineer, and as a result most of his book is recalled by way of engineering milestones (he’ll say things like “that song had a really interesting set of effects done late at night, which even though it’s common now, had never been done before.” (that’s not a real quote)).
The history starts in the early 60’s and goes through to the present. He stays true to his own memories, and tends to avoid recollecting events of which he wasn’t witness, so it’s a pretty clear presentation of one man’s experiences and not so much a wandering set of opinions and speculations about other people’s feelings and attitudes. For example, in general he will choose to observe that John came in and was snapping at the people around him and not talking to Paul than to say that based upon the way they were acting, John and Paul had obviously had a major fight in the morning and were angry at each other.
He tends to favor Paul over the others a bit, but it seems to be both a result of his general proximity and emotional relationship with Paul as it is about his value of true musical talent in each musician.
My personal biggest take-away was the humanizing of the process of the art — the Beatles would work for hours and hours and hours to get a specific piece of a song right … which implies that they weren’t some sort of master geniuses who made no mistakes and could play anything as soon as they put their hands to it (though, duh, they’re still amazingly talented and geniuses all the same); and the other take-away I had was that, in many ways, “the Beatles” was more like 6 people — especially when they went into their studio years … John, Paul, George, Ringo, George Martin, and Geoff Emerick … with George Martin and Emerick somewhat replaceable, but still key elements of the original sound, not the music of course. Beatles music wasn’t just 4 lads, it was artists making raw material and others openly and clearly having input into the creative process and final product much more deeply than I thought (e.g. George Martin arranged much of the backing music and played on a number of tracks, even though he was “just” the producer).
It gets nominally dry at points when Emerick goes about discussing the engineering and artistic process of each song in some of the biggest albums (e.g. Sgt. Peppers and Revolver), but outside of that, it’s a pretty satisfying read.
Overall, if you’d like to see the real humanity of people behind the music of the Beatles, including the artists themselves — and you’re interested in removing the “shroud of amazing” without destroying the image of the men behind the music, this is a good book to read.
View all my reviews
