For me, Beatles music has no meaning other than to sing along in the car because the radio played them so often. Though I always thought their covers were interesting. I guess it was in 1968? or 1969? that the story that Paul was dead circulated and we combed the covers for hints about his death. The radio played alot of Beatles, but for the Battle of the Bands or the Friday or the Saturday night dances at the local fire halls or high schools, it was garage band fever. Louie,Louie, Gloria, I Can Give You Everything, Just Like Me, Satisfaction, Evil hearted You, I'm a Man, House of the Rising Sun. Lead singer had a tambourine, every band virtually had a Hammond B3 or Conn organ. And somebody played a mean harmonica on I'm a Man. Danced and partied all night long. The only time we heard Beatles music was usually a slow number for the girls. Of course we did not mind that much, we got to grope a little and get a little giggle out of the girls. ( Or if someone got a little too frisky a slap in the face. Are you reading this Charlie? You got us kicked out of sooooo many dances!!)
So what does this mean? The Great Divide. Music as Art or Music as Self-Identification. If I wanted Music as Self-Identification I always came down on the side of the Rolling Stones. Let's party all day and all night. If I wanted Music as Art I always sided with my Dad's music of Coltrane and Davis. But later I found the passion of Schubert as my artistic muse. So the Beatles where on neither side of the Divide. Not as self identification and not nearly as a fulfilling aesthetic experience as Music as Art than even a minor composer like Spohr.
I still collect 45s from the 60s of obscure garage bands with fervor and listen to Schubert when I want music as art as an aesthetic experience.