When “Now and Then” was finally released in 2023, it felt less like the debut of a “new” Beatles track and more like the closing chapter of a story that began over sixty years ago. Born from a fragile demo recorded by John Lennon in the late 1970s, and completed decades later by Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr with echoes of George Harrison’s contributions, the song is both a reunion and a farewell.
The opening lines, sung in Lennon’s voice, are haunting in their immediacy. Thanks to modern restoration, his words — “Now and then, I miss you” — come through with startling clarity, as though John himself has returned to share one final message. The effect is emotional, not only for longtime fans but also for Paul and Ringo, who have carried the weight of memory and loss for decades.
Musically, the track is tender and understated. Paul’s harmonies wrap gently around John’s vocal, Ringo’s drumming provides a steady pulse, and George’s guitar ideas from the 1990s sessions add texture, ensuring that all four Beatles are present. Strings arranged in classic Beatles fashion lift the song higher, giving it the warmth of familiarity while still allowing space for its melancholy core.
Lyrically, the song is simple, almost stark — but therein lies its strength. It isn’t filled with poetic flourish or elaborate metaphors. Instead, it captures the essence of longing, absence, and the ties that refuse to break even with time. In its simplicity, it mirrors the Beatles’ greatest gift: the ability to translate complex emotions into melodies the whole world can carry.
What makes “Now and Then” extraordinary is what it represents. It is not just a song; it is a bridge across time, a reminder that love and art outlast loss. For Paul and Ringo, it was a chance to stand beside John and George once more, to close the circle they began in Liverpool. For listeners, it is a gift — the final Beatles song, carrying both the ache of goodbye and the comfort of one last hello.
In the end, “Now and Then” is a song about memory, love, and reconciliation. It may not be as groundbreaking as “A Day in the Life” or as iconic as “Hey Jude,” but it doesn’t need to be. Its power lies in its honesty, in its fragility, and in the fact that it exists at all. It is the Beatles’ last word — quiet, tender, and eternal.