Anyway, it turns out the Beatles never did perform “Can’t Buy Me Love” on the Ed Sullivan show, which makes them LYING LIARS WHO LIE. Were they even born in Liverpool? I’ve seen an ungrammatical placard that says otherwise and I refuse to let the SOCIALISTS silence me.

Let’s take a look at the DISGUSTING FABRICATION in question:

The in-game factoids tell us that this one’s notable for Paul being the only singer, and Paulbot gets most of the action as a result, jigging about like a Gerry Anderson puppet to the extent that the classic Paul McCartney head-wobble just makes it look like his head’s about to come off and roll across the floor. Paulbot is the least human-looking of all the Beatlebots here, even including Ringobot, whose mental capacity seems to diminish with every song. The look on his face in 1:06 is like the Frankenstein Monster sighting a butterfly. “Pret…teee…” Luckily the game doesn’t go for mirrored surfaces or Ringobot might catch sight of his reflection, scream “UGLEEEEE” and go on a digitised rampage murdering villagers left and right.

As for the song… well, there’s a slight intrusion of Rock And/Or Roll in the solo – and even Georgebot’s saturnyne soloing seems toned down – but apart from that, this is even squarer than the last song. McCartney opens the song as a profligate sugar daddy, blithely promising to drop diamond rings and whatever else is going to “make you feel alright” on his ‘friend’ – and when a song starts off by serenading the object of desire as“my friend” you know even the saucy delights of hand-holding are going to be out of the question – before saying that “money can’t buy [him] love”. I catch your meaning, Paul. Money can’t buy you love, but converting that currency into diamond rings and similar items that make girls feel alright will buy you love, because bitches ain’t shit but hos and tricks. I understand you completely, Paul McCartney, you pimp daddy.

(On a side note, the first thing I saw in the wikipedia entry for this song – DON’T JUDGE ME – was: “When pressed by American journalists in 1966 to reveal the song’s “true” meaning, McCartney denied that “Can’t Buy Me Love” was about prostitution…” Oo er gosh i mean to sa gosh.)

Anyway, Paul McCartney isn’t a pimp daddy at all, it was all a clever ruse to determine whether his beloved ‘friend’ was a greedy gold-digging hooer or not. If the lady in question don’t need a diamond ring, the Walrus will be “satisfied”, like the prince in a fairytale who rejects the beautiful but spiritually ugly wenches who hurl themselves at his throne daily and nightly to plight his troth only with you, dear squealing listener, because only you have passed Sir Paul’s simple test and convinced him that your heart is true. Next stop, hand-holding.

Actually, the jigging Thunderbird puppet slides into poverty over the course of the song. In the first verse, it’s all diamond rings and whatever other extravagant item your heart desires – “I don’t care too much for money” is the cry of a man drowning in it. He doesn’t care where he hurls his immense wad, so get in on this sugar train and let Daddy Paulbucks treat you right. In the second verse he’s giving you everything he has, though that’s not much – the gift is less extravagant, but it means more, because it’s everything he owns. Now not caring much for money means that he prizes your love above all his material goods, like you wish your husband would do instead of drinking away the household funds. And in the final verse – bled dry, presumably, by his previous spending policies – he’s giving you nothing and hinting that he’d prefer it if you never brought the subject up again. Now, Macca is the dirt-poor dreamer who scorns all earthly prizes – the diamond ring from the first verse becomes an example of a ridiculous demand – and the listener is invited to take his hand and build a world without money using only love, which I guess is a grab for the expanding hippy market.

All bases covered, all constituents catered to. Another broad-appeal song from Beatlecorp, and even duller than the last. It’s certainly jaunty, though, and you can’t take that away from them. Here’s hoping the next one will provide some of the stronger meat we were getting in the Cavern Club.

NEXT: There will now be a short hiatus until next Tuesday – when we can expect another song that was never played on the Ed Sullivan show, courtesy of the Fraudulent Four.