“Real Love” is a trifle. It will never be included in any sane discussion of the Beatles’ best work, and if judged against the standard of just about anything recorded in the sixties it falls far short. Despite all of these caveats, however, the song still somehow manages to come alive. You can hear twenty-five years’ worth of cobwebs being shaken loose, three excellent musicians who had grown unaccustomed to working together, learning to do so once again. It’s stiff and slightly awkward, but its humble imperfections seems almost charming when placed next to the stentorian literalism of “Free As A Bird.” There was so much riding on these two tracks that there was no way the songs themselves could ever meet the world’s expectation. One of them was a misfire, and justly forgotten. The other, however … the other succeeded despite itself.