By Mark Hooper

Most discussions on The Beatles and ‘World Music’ begin and end with how they helped to introduce Eastern – specifically Indian – music into the mainstream of Western popular culture.

This is largely credited to George – whose interest, received opinion has it, was more tolerated than encouraged by the rest of the band, including George Martin. But, while he may have been the instigator, it’s clear the rest also embraced Eastern philosophy to varying degrees. Musically, John’s songs show the most obvious influences – from incorporating George’s sitar playing in Norwegian Wood (the first use of the instrument on a Western ‘rock’ album), via Across the Universe, The Rishi Kesh Song (later rewritten as Jealous Guy), and his interpretation of the Tibetan Book Of The Dead for Tomorrow Never Knows.

We all know how this plays out – other rock bands dressing in kaftans, taking acid and demonstrating little more than a passing understanding of the Baghavad Gita (although that did give us Nirvana – and Paul’s involvement with them deserves a blog in its own).

What’s more productive perhaps is an examination of how the flow of influence was a two-way process. Just as The Beatles sought new music and ideas by looking beyond the confines of British and American-centric rock ‘n’ roll scene, so artists around the globe interpreted, incorporated and responded to them in often fascinating ways.

For a start, let’s drop the ‘World Music’ tag – which at best is not very helpful and at worst is pretty lazy way of lumping completely unrelated musical genres and traditions together simply because they don’t fit neatly into Western record shop categories.

Secondly, we can ignore the obvious radio-friendly covers done in popular local styles – from cod reggae to bossa nova. But dig deeper into South American popular music and you discover a fascinating seam developing through the 60s and into the 70s. This is most obviously seen in Milton ‘Bituca’ Nascimento, one of the undisputed legends of Brazilian music. His records draw a link between the pioneering early 20th century compositions of Villa-Lobos (who Nascimento’s mother studied under) and the emerging rock and folk-rock music merging from Northern America and from across the Atlantic.

This is most brilliantly and overtly shown on Para Lennon E McCartney, a track on his 1970 album Milton. Here, the message is deliberately ambiguous – while lending more than a nod to the dynamics, melodies and riffs of rock music, Nascimento seems to simultaneously defend ‘lixo ocidental’ (‘Western trash’) while proudly standing up for his roots (‘Eu sou da América do Sul / Sei, vocês não vão saber’ – ‘I’m from South America / I know you won’t know’). By dedicating the track to Lennon & McCartney in the title, he is passionately telling his audience that ‘Não precisca medo’ (‘There’s no need to be afraid’) – adding ‘Por que você não verá / Meu lado occidental?’ (‘Why won’t you see my Western side?’)

Having made that impassioned plea for broader minds, Nascimento followed it up with his masterpiece – 1972’s Club a Esquina. Although usually attributed to him alone, the album is in fact named after the collective that he and Lô Borges spearheaded. Marrying traditional indigenous Brazilian music, folk, jazz, psychedelia, rock and classical, it is often named as one of the best Brazilian albums of all time, with critics citing its embrace of Chopin and Beatlemania alike as a pivotal moment. Sean Lennon revealed in an interview that his dad had it in his collection, while Paul made a point of visiting ‘Bituca’ when he was last in Brazil, having his photo taken with him while holding up a copy of Milton.

Staying on the South American theme, fans of Paul Simon’s masterful album The Rhythm of The Saints might note that, amidst the exhaustive list of musicians who appear on the album – many of whom are Brazilian – a certain Ringo Star [sic] appears in the credits. It would make sense for Ringo to appear on an album featuring countless guest drummers and percussionists. However, it turns out that the typo is in the fist name, not the surname – it should actually read Rigo Star, a Congolese guitarist of some renown, who died in October 2023. Incidentally, track 9 on Simon’s album – Spirit Voices – features Portuguese lyrics written and sung by – who else – Milton Nascimento.

A more obvious Beatle influence – particularly their later period as well as Apple Records releases – can be found in Happy End, the late 60s / early 70s Japanese four-piece that featured Haruomi Hosono – later of Yellow Magic Orchestra – on vocals, bass, keyboards and guitar. A homegrown take on the folk-rock sound of America, their standout album Kazemachi Roman (1971) features the track Kaze wo Atsumete, which found a new audience when it was featured on the soundtrack of Sofia Coppola’s 2003 film Lost In Translation.

Mixing sun-drenched West Coast mannerisms, nods to Buffalo Springfield and even a game attempt at yodeling. The fact that the album is sung entirely in Japanese caused something of a controversy at the time, with stern traditionalists insisting that popular rock music should be sung in English to distinguish it from Japanese folk. Together with Ryo Kagawa (whose own albums are well worth exploring too), they were pivotal in developing a new folk-rock sound that mixed Japanese and Western styles. (It’s little surprise that Kagawa began his career in a Beatles tribute band.)

As for Haruomi Hosano, the title of his 1973 solo debut Hosono House was the unlikely inspiration of Harry Styles’ mega-selling 2022 album Harry’s House.

Once again, all roads lead to The Beatles…