At 863 pages, this is the heftiest book I've read--meaning it was good enough to hold the attention of a fan who closely followed The Beatles through the `60s but does not live and swear by them. Normally, I feel that life is too short to read such large books.
One thing worth mentioning is the author's correction mania: as if the he had some kind of allowance of '[sic]s' that he had to disburse before the end of the book, regardless of need, alongside a pesky eagerness to crowd every citation with square brackets. On p. 372, he relates that Beatles' engineer Norman Smith was busily trying to capture... "...the sound of the Beatles singing and playing as [if] they'd [be] perfom[ing] on stage."--which reads as well without his intrusive parentheses, and perhaps better.
We also read about how "...hundreds, perhaps even 'thousands[,] of screaming fans' thronged the terraced roof..." etc. (p. 430) Come on, guy: no desperate need for that comma! And no, they _were_ called 'Beatle boots,' singular. And yet Spitz's diction fails him, such as when describing how, after their first LSD trip, "...the two Beatles were too shook up by the experience to..." (p. 567) No; that would be 'shaken up', Mr. Spitz, the Elvis anthem to some beauty notwithstanding. There's more, much more, but you get the drift.
Spitz is openly partial to Paul, but to his credit can also be critical, citing others' grumbles about his massive ego. This is refreshing, since McCartney's clearly a charmer of a high order. Even those who bore with his obsessing over less-than-worthy music--see comments about Geoff Emerick, below--invariably speak well of him.
Downplaying Lennon, on the other hand, comes more easily to Spitz. True, his personality was acerbic and he had the sarcastic wit of one who, for all the mass adoration, was unable to find his footing or to overcome his father's indifference or the awful loss of his mother. Let's be frank: beyond just nasty, Lennon could be vile. Any proof, you ask? "How Do You Sleep?"--powerful music ruined by vindictiveness that would embarrass any ordinary adult.
Still, realizing Lennon may not have been cuddly shouldn't affect recognizing his towering talent, as happens to Spitz at least occasionally. Such as in this review of the strengths of the 3 young Beatles, who still lacked a drummer to set off their critical mass: "Paul picked up instruments the way some people pick up new languages; he had the ear for it, with all the proper accents in place. And George, especially, seemed consumed with fundamentals and technique. Both handled guitars with stunning self-assuredness and possessed the power to make their instruments hum like Maseratis. John had everything else: the right sensibility and taste. And it all fit together in a stylized groove." That's it: "the right sensibility and taste"! As a survey of skills, even a quick analysis, this lacks balance and is plain foolish.
Spitz shows no restraint telling about the destructive effects on the group, through John, of heroin and Yoko ...not necessarily in that order. The fact-checkers must have done all-nighters on this material, as the invective aimed at her, if open to dispute, would have prompted several lawsuits. As we would term it today, Ono originally _stalked_ John, to Lennon's deep annoyance, before establishing her parasitic connection: feeding his insecurities, stoking suspicion and contempt especially for Paul, and alienating his mates in the studio and at business tables.
And yet Spitz paints detailed, well-rounded, mostly fair portraits of those involved, including during the final acrimonious years. The book's main weakness is really in the treatment of the music. One curious observation, for instance, is that 'Back in the USSR' is a tribute to Chuck Berry. The song's title may resemble one by Berry, but its fun, over-the-top celebration of girls, surveyed state by state, the joyous harmonic interweaving, even their opening mention of a US beach, positively scream out a loving tribute to Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys. Generally, however, most musical observations involve not much more than breathless superlatives, usually about McCartney, or lead into an anecdote--such as that Ringo is absent on the mentioned song, since Paul played the drums, as did John and George!
You don't get a sense, in short, that Spitz's hold on the music, qua music, is of much value.
Unlike some reviewers, I don't think Spitz undersells George's role--even though I'm of the view that, until 'Abbey Road,' his part beside those two musical giants could only pale. For welcome counterevidence to my perspective (stemming from dreck like `Piggies'), read David Simons' 'The Unsung Beatle', anthologized in June Skinner Sawyer's Read the Beatles: Classic and New Writings on the Beatles, Their Legacy, and Why They Still Matter. Here we have a convincing argument that Harrison added a musical cohesiveness--the absence of which, alongside some texturing, weakened much of the later, solo output of both Lennon and McCartney. At worst, Simons' case builds a compelling list of just what he contributed to various Beatles numbers.
Spitz has a few good words about Ringo as a peacemaker, and adds a longish bio sketch. Again, for musical acumen I suggest you look elsewhere--such as to Phil Collins in the DVD Rare and Unseen, the Beatles: The Unofficial Account of the Biggest Band in the World, where, still awed, he demonstrates what he considers to be Starr's very inspired drum fills on 'Strawberry Fields Forever.' _That_ is enlightening about his musical talent.
Music lovers crave such insights: except for a few crumbs of trivia and gossip, why else do we read about musicians? For a truly illuminating exploration, spend time with the memoirs of (their second) recording engineer Geoff Emerick, Here, There and Everywhere: My Life Recording the Music of the Beatles. I'm also curious about a bit of non-musical gossip: such as the agony of McCartney's tortuous re-takes and endless touch-ups of 'Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da'--which, not incidentally, was voted in a 2004 online poll the worst song ever composed.
The Beatles' last few, non-touring years were less anecdote-worthy, and this part of the book comes close to perfunctory, with album-by-album assurances about the group's continued dominance of the scene, etc. That's accurate enough, but it's understandably nowhere as compelling as their career on take-off. The flipside of this is some solid coverage of The Beatles' exciting early days, told with verve and in good detail.
In sum, this is worth reading as a biography of The Beatles, especially their exhilarating rise. For less on that but more about the music, I'd recommend especially Emerick's book and the mentioned DVDs.