Where do I even begin about last night?

The entire process was very sudden. I was sitting in Edison Family Restaurant with my family when my sister invited my mother and me to see Paul McCartney, in the seventh row. She started crying on the spot, and I was in utter disbelief.

I had to talk myself into believing that this was actually happening. And it was, by far, the greatest performance I have ever seen.

There were two overwhelming emotional components to this show. The first involves me. Obviously, as a musician and human being, my love for the Beatles is boundless. These songs, these albums, chord progressions, melodies, arrangements, all speak to me in ways I still probably don’t entirely understand. They’ve comforted me, challenged me to be a better songwriter, made me laugh and cry, and the depth of their body of work is still so staggering to me, and will always be. I’ve grown up hearing stories about their famous arrival from my parents, being told about and reading about their profound (understatement) impact on musical development, culture, people, the whole thing.

But, as connected as I was/am to these recordings, I had resigned myself to the fact that that is how these songs would always exist to me; recorded music. I would never experience them in any other way, I would never see them sung, I would never witness their power in decibels from a plugged-in instrument. Until, last night. I have never really been in awe of a performance before. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been amazed, but never helplessly in awe. As I was last night… when he took the stage I just… I was utterly speechless. I cried during “Hey Jude,” “Something,” “Golden Slumbers/Carry that Weight,” “Blackbird,” “I Will,” and “Eleanor Rigby.” My sister found the last one strange… why would I cry during “Eleanor Rigby?”

It just struck me so powerfully… because, I NEVER thought I would see that song be performed by Paul McCartney, feet away from where I was. I mean, the same goes for all the songs, really. But for some reason it really hit me… Paul McCartney is playing “Eleanor Rigby” in front of me. He’s strumming away and the whole thing… right there. Ridiculous. I never knew that song, or any of them, other than in recorded sound. Now I know them as sung by Paul McCartney, and heard in centerfield at Yankee Stadium. Fucking incredible.

THEN, there’s what it meant to my mother. Seeing a Beatle perform live is something that has been on her bucket list for a long, long time. She lived through it. She remembers what she was wearing when they first arrived in America. She witnessed their impact first hand, and has decades worth of memories and emotions tied up in their music, and especially reminds her of being a teenager, and witnessing rock stars as they ought to be. Now, add in the fact that this is something she’s wanted to happen for decades, and now she was feet away from Paul McCartney. When he first took the stage, she let out this quick “WHOO!” and… all at once it just killed me. I thought about it for the rest of the show. She was just so happy, like she was a teenager all over again, seeing him walk out and being struck by his presence. And now seeing him for the first time… she cried a bunch, as well. It was just incredible to watch.

So yeah, greatest thing I’ve ever seen.