
Three Different Beatles Albums Chart This Week — And Two Of Them Return
Three Beatles albums chart in the U.K. this week, with 1967–1970 leading the charge as several ... More classic collections show notable gains. The Beatles at the press launch for their new album 'Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band', held at Brian Epstein's house at 24 Chapel Street, London, 19th May 1967. Left to right: George Harrison (1943 - 2001), Ringo Starr, John Lennon (1940 - 1980) and Paul McCartney. (Photo by)
It's almost never surprising to see The Beatles on the charts in the United Kingdom. The group remains one of the most beloved and listened-to acts in history, especially in the band's home country, where the musicians first found one another and began creating the music that would go on to define a generation.
Sometimes, one tune or compilation from the group holds steady in the U.K., but this frame, a pair of best-of sets not only show up on multiple tallies, they manage to climb nearly everywhere. That's partially thanks to the fading impact of Record Store Day releases, which dominated the charts last week, but also simply because people never seem to get enough of The Beatles.
This frame, three classic collections by The Beatles appear on the U.K. charts: 1962–1966, 1967–1970, and 1. Each title finds space on at least one list, though not all are moving in the same direction. Only 1 — the best-of project packed with the band's many No. 1 singles — takes a step back, dipping a few spots on the Official Albums Downloads chart. Meanwhile, 1962–1966 and 1967–1970 are on the rise.
Between the two companion collections named for the years during which The Beatles' original singles were released, 1967–1970 is the top performer this frame. The set pushes back into the upper half of the Official Albums chart, jumping to No. 50 on the ranking of the most-consumed full-lengths and EPs in the nation. It also enjoys a solid boost on the Official Albums Streaming roster, climbing from No. 52 to No. 45.
While 1967–1970 posts the stronger numbers overall, 1962–1966 is no disappointment either. The earlier collection, which highlights tunes released during the band's initial breakthrough years, rises from No. 98 to No. 88 on the Official Albums chart. It also lifts on the Official Albums Streaming tally, albeit by a slightly smaller margin. This time around, it moves from No. 82 to No. 77.
Each of the three Beatles albums mentioned has now spent at least one year on every chart it currently lands on. The shortest span among them belongs to 1962–1966 on the Official Albums Streaming chart, where it hits 52 weeks — or exactly one year — on the tally this frame. Meanwhile, 1 continues to enjoy truly incredible staying power, as it has thus far racked up an eye-popping 235 appearances on the Official Albums Downloads list.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
10 hours ago
- Yahoo
Are Music and Other Celebrity Films Killing the Documentary?
Glance at the list of top contenders for the nonfiction special this Emmy season and you'll find some big musical talent: Bruce Springsteen. Celine Dion. John Williams. The Beatles. Yet far from a thrilling foray into the modern canon, these Rock and Roll Hall of Fame excursions suggest a world in which nonfiction TV has become an exercise in brand management, say documentary leaders, marginalizing robust storytelling and journalism. More from The Hollywood Reporter Roy Wood Jr. Mocks White House, CNN and Patti LuPone in Peabody Awards Monologue How Reginald Hudlin and Shola Lynch Put Together the Greatest Call Sheet Ever Questlove Reveals the Standout Musical Performance He Omitted From 'Ladies & Gentlemen ... 50 Years of SNL Music' - And Why The Emmys documentary special once covered a wide range of social topics. Beginning some 25 years ago, it included the stories of Vietnam POWs and prison cover-ups, child beauty-pageant contestants and racial inequities. But in recent years this has morphed. In 2024, four of the five nominees were authorized celebrity biographies. The year before? The same. Don't count on much changing this season: Artist-friendly music docs flood the space. 'A lot of this is the shift to streaming where companies are looking for names that are reliable and global, and what's being said in the films doesn't really matter,' says Thom Powers, a veteran documentary programmer at Toronto, Doc NYC and other festivals. 'It becomes less about content or rigor and more about marketing.' That these shifts are happening at a time of crisis — from social injustice to climate disasters to the slashing of the federal safety net — makes the tragedy that much greater, say nonfiction experts. Documentaries are unavailable at the exact moment they're needed most. Three veteran filmmakers, who all asked not to be identified because they did not want to jeopardize even hypothetical partnerships, expressed their concern and pointed to the shift in the doc power base from onetime rulers PBS and HBO to Netflix, Disney and Apple, which they say prioritize polish and name recognition. Some of the diminishment, they say, can also be traced to when streamers began running commercials, as Netflix did in late 2022, giving them a weaker stomach for content that might alienate advertisers. What's more, these platforms sometimes pay their subjects, turning them into de facto directors. After so many decades when artists, actors and athletes were forced to cede control to the companies, record labels and teams they work for, the pendulum has swung the other way. Not that the companies don't have their say: A film's need for music rights and the increasingly tight oversight by the entities that control them can mean even basic humanizing details are left out. Many nonfiction films these days are about only what the subject wants us to see — less documentaries than documercials. The crisis came to the fore in the fall with the revelation that Ezra Edelman, the creative force behind the Emmy-winning 2016 docuseries O.J.: Made in America, had directed a similarly ambitious piece for Netflix about the beautiful genius and alleged malevolent manipulations (and worse) of Prince. But with both the lawyers and rights-management company Primary Wave that were in charge of the musician's estate worried about the effects on Prince's catalog sales, at least some among the estate overseers reportedly threatened to use a clause in the contract that would require the nine-hour film to be cut down to six. The move led to the completed piece being permanently shelved. A new, more burnished authorized movie not directed by Edelman will now rise in its place. One hardly needs a nine-hour plumbing of the dark soul of Paisley Park to understand what's being lost. Time and again, the artist-approved film glides past the meatiest material. Of the Springsteen-centric Road Diary, The Hollywood Reporter's review offered that 'an in-depth excavation or an exhaustive accounting, this is not.' Of Music by John Williams, The Guardian said, 'The man behind the maestro remains elusive.' Of I Am: Celine Dion, Variety noted that the movie was 'managed to within an inch of its life…there's a sense the filmmaker didn't want to include anything her subject wouldn't approve of.' The shift is surprisingly recent. Just six years ago, the winner of the Emmy for doc special was Leaving Neverland, HBO's unflinching look at alleged Michael Jackson abuses from two alleged victims — a far cry from last year's winner about the genius of Jim Henson that was authorized by his family and came out from Disney. The company was doubtless happy not to deal with Neverland-level legal headaches. (There does still seem to be journalism within certain narrow documentary genres, like true crime, which recently yielded Liz Garbus' robust Netflix docuseries Gone Girls.) Doc-world veterans point to the size of the streamers as a culprit. 'It's a difficult environment now in the United States for controversial content,' says Alex Gibney, the Oscar- and Emmy-winning documentary filmmaker (Going Clear won the nonfiction special Emmy in 2015). 'With consolidation comes a belief that you can talk to everybody, so you don't want to offend anybody.' Gibney's own journalistic film about Benjamin Netanyahu, The Bibi Files, couldn't find a major network or streamer at this year's Toronto International Film Festival, joining another acclaimed TIFF work, Steve Pink's anti-Trump doc The Last Republican, in the distribution desert. Instead, filmmakers say the documentaries that land big deals are well-meaning but ultimately unrigorous — fan worship in auteurist clothing. Serving fans is hardly a crime, of course, and many of the music films can charm or educate the faithful. But filmmakers say they worry that these soft-focus looks are crowding out serious work. And they ruefully register the irony that artists whose genius came from exploring messy contradictions often wind up with treatments largely free of them. The music industry personalities behind these movies maintain that their efforts serve creativity in their own way, and that while they may have a measured hand in how they handle sensitive or controversial material, they still aim to cast an illuminating light. 'The artists have to be willing to tell their story, and that means the good and the bad, the wins and the struggles,' says Tom Mackay, president of premium content at Sony Music Entertainment, which has been behind a host of recent music docs, including films on Cyndi Lauper, June Carter Cash, Luther Vandross and this year's Celine Dion picture. 'It can't be a two-hour victory lap.' Mackay acknowledges that a built-in audience is part of the appeal in a difficult media environment. Distributors can count on 'that global fan base to migrate to that platform to watch that film,' he says. While the presence of these movies is held up as an example of journalism marginalization, those involved with them say they're actually responding to a deterioration in reporting culture and partly even addressing it. 'Journalism — especially music journalism — has changed; there aren't as many music outlets and not nearly as many in-depth articles about musicians as there used to be,' says Deborah Klein, a manager at Primary Wave whose clients include Melissa Etheridge and Cypress Hill, both of whom have been the subjects of recent docs. 'This is a way to get to know them a little better.' Still, many of the projects are driven by business models. Conglomerates with music catalogs don't need to pay licensing fees, eliminating a main budgetary expense. They then get paid when they sell their movie to a platform and grab another bite at the revenue apple when the ensuing popularity leads to increased streams or album sales — a triumph less of cinema than synergy. It is difficult to avoid the monetizing truth that Disney+ is the company putting out the story of Star Wars composer John Williams or that NBC streaming arm Peacock is behind Ladies & Gentlemen…50 Years of SNL Music. A 'universe' logic abides: Just as Disney produces Marvel and Star Wars shows by the bucket, it's following the template in nonfiction, peddling three movies to which it owns the rights, Michael Lindsay-Hogg original 1970 Let It Be, Peter Jackson's four-hour 2021 restoration of the footage from that film The Beatles: Get Back, and, now, the Scorsese-produced Beatles '64. Any company worth its salt engages in cross-promotion. But producing and distributing films with a commoditized-package strategy for a band that spent much of its career fighting commoditized packaging can set off the irony meter. Welcome to the Lennonverse. Natalia Nastaskin, chief content officer of Primary Wave, says that while 'we do hope that there's impact on catalog,' she also believes 'there's an opportunity for revelatory storytelling' with these movies. She called them 'another form of artistic expression.' But documentary directors say the approach makes for a very different environment than the one they're used to. 'Getting called into a meeting on these projects, you can sometimes feel more like you're filling a marketing hole than offering an artistic vision,' says one. Sheila Nevins, the former HBO executive and so-called 'godmother' of the modern documentary who has been nominated for the Emmy nonfiction special some 30 times, says she has been disheartened by the business and creative tilt in the past several years. 'The documentary is in hiding,' she says flatly. Still, she believes that even if the biggest streamers don't take many risks, a groundswell of documentarians as well as audiences eager to understand the challenges facing the country will emerge to resurrect the form. 'Just because these companies don't want to go too deep into the water doesn't mean docs are coming to an end,' Nevins notes, suggesting the possibility of private investment to produce and distribute films. 'These filmmakers will come back with their fists on fire. And they're going to punch very hard.' This story first appeared in a May stand-alone issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe. Best of The Hollywood Reporter Most Anticipated Concert Tours of 2025: Beyoncé, Billie Eilish, Kendrick Lamar & SZA, Sabrina Carpenter and More Hollywood's Most Notable Deaths of 2025 Hollywood's Highest-Profile Harris Endorsements: Taylor Swift, George Clooney, Bruce Springsteen and More
Yahoo
11 hours ago
- Yahoo
Born to Rant: Springsteen's Truth to Power Screed Is the Rallying Cry We Need
Shakespeare knew it centuries ago: 'The lady doth protest too much, methinks.' Trump's response to Bruce Springsteen's warnings given from a stage in Manchester came quick—loud, erratic, and dripping with grievance. Was this the voice of presidential confidence, or was it the howl of a man watching the walls close in? When power is secure, it whispers. When it's scared, it shouts. And Trump's over-the-top denials say the quiet part out loud: he's terrified. — On January 19, 1967, inside the cavernous walls of Studio One at EMI's Abbey Road Studios, John Lennon and Paul McCartney sat side by side, piecing together what would become the final track of 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.' Lennon, hunched over his acoustic guitar, sang the haunting opening lines of 'A Day in the Life,' while McCartney accompanied him on piano. When he reached the line 'I'd love to turn you on,' the two young songwriters shared a knowing glance. They were fully aware that this phrase would raise eyebrows and likely provoke the BBC, who indeed banned the song for its perceived drug references. Yet, for the Beatles, this line was less about promoting drug use and more about signaling a cultural awakening — a call to consciousness that mirrored the societal shifts of the 1960s. This shift helped fuel a movement that forced the United States to abandon the war in Vietnam — unable to sustain a battle both abroad and at home, America gave in, leaving Vietnam to the Vietnamese. This moment in the studio encapsulated the Beatles' evolving role as not just musicians but as commentators on and catalysts for change. Their music was beginning to reflect a deeper engagement with the world around them, challenging norms and encouraging listeners to question not only their parents, but the status quo. This spirit of defiance is also evident in George Harrison's 'Taxman,' a biting critique of the British government's taxation policies. Frustrated by the exorbitant taxes levied on the band's earnings, Harrison channeled his discontent into a song that pulled no punches in excoriating Great Britain under Harold Wilson, laying bare the inequities of the system. 'Taxman' stands as an early example of the Beatles using their platform to address political issues, setting the stage for the more overtly socially conscious music that would follow. Fast forward through the decades, and the echoes of that Abbey Road rebellion grew louder. From the psychedelic haze of the '60s to the hard-edged protest anthems of the '70s, '80s, and beyond, artists have kept their fingers on the pulse of unrest — using music not as a soothing balm but as a blaring siren. Jimi Hendrix's 'Machine Gun' wasn't just a song; it was a searing lament for Vietnam, a raw, electrified howl of anguish that warned of the blood-soaked cost of war. The Clash's 'Guns of Brixton' captured the clenched fists and breaking glass of racial tension and economic despair in Thatcher's Britain, a warning shot fired not from a rifle, but from a Fender Precision Bass landing in a collective of record players and ricochetting in the heart of the streets, lighting torches of awareness held high by both kids and adults. Bruce Springsteen, ever the chronicler of the American condition, has long carried that torch. His 'Death to My Hometown' is a bitter reckoning with the economic devastation wrought by greed and indifference, while 'The Ghost of Tom Joad' resurrects Steinbeck's specter of the dispossessed, a haunting reminder that the struggle for dignity and justice is far from over. These songs don't just warn—they witness. They record the heartbeat of rebellion, the collective refusal to let power go unchallenged. And they remind us that music, when wielded with purpose, can shake the foundations of the 'system'. And that foundation wasn't just shaken — Bruce rocked it. On May 14, 2025, at Manchester's Co-op Live Arena, Springsteen opened his 'Land of Hope and Dreams' tour with a fiery denunciation of Donald Trump's administration, labeling it 'corrupt, incompetent, and treasonous.' He implored the audience to 'raise your voices against authoritarianism and let freedom ring,' warning that America's foundational values were under siege. He accused the administration of rolling back civil rights, stifling free speech, and aligning with dictators over democratic allies. These remarks were not offhanded—they were recorded and released days later as part of his live EP, 'Land of Hope and Dreams,' which also featured a cover of Bob Dylan's 'Chimes of Freedom,' reinforcing his message of resistance. Trump's response was swift and vitriolic. On Truth Social, he lashed out, calling Springsteen 'a pushy, obnoxious JERK' and a 'dried-out 'prune' of a rocker,' even mocking his appearance. He demanded that Springsteen 'KEEP HIS MOUTH SHUT until he gets back into the Country,' and later suggested investigating him and other artists like Beyoncé and Oprah for their support of Kamala Harris's 2024 campaign—alleging, without evidence, that they were illegally paid for endorsements. But Springsteen wasn't alone. Artists like Neil Young and Eddie Vedder rallied to his defense, denouncing Trump's attacks and affirming the importance of free expression. The American Federation of Musicians also stood in solidarity, emphasizing that musicians have the right to speak out against injustice. — In the aftermath of 9/11, musicians came together at the Concert for the Heroes — their voices unified, rallying beneath the flag of freedom. They sang not just for America, but for the shared humanity that terrorism tried to shatter. I often wonder: if Jimi Hendrix were alive, what would he have made of it all? His blistering, feedback-laden 'Star-Spangled Banner' at Woodstock wasn't just a national anthem—it was a battle cry, a raw, unflinching 'f-you' to anyone who threatened our American ideology. Today, we're fighting a different kind terrorism — one that doesn't come from distant shores, but rises from within. It erodes truth, fans the flames of hate, and chips away at the foundation of democracy itself. Who better to sound the alarm than Bruce Springsteen? His voice is the call to arms we need — a reminder that freedom isn't just a flag we wave, but a fight we must wage. The post Born to Rant: Springsteen's Truth to Power Screed Is the Rallying Cry We Need | Guest Column appeared first on TheWrap.


Associated Press
14 hours ago
- Associated Press
Ringo Starr on turning 85, meditation and The Beatles evolution
Sir Ringo Starr sat down with AP entertainment journalist Liam McEwan to reflect on a milestone year: celebrating his 85th birthday next July 7, 35 years of the All-Starr Band and a recent Grammy win ('I'd like a couple more if you don't mind,' he says). He shared stories from his early days as a hopeful dreamer, the musical evolution of The Beatles, and his mindset when behind a drum kit ('I'm in a blackout!'). Starr also opened up about his journey practicing transcendental meditation, photography and the deep bond he still shares with his bandmates.