Well. Guess This is Beatles Night.

I Wanna Hold Your Hand – The Beatles The single greatest 2 minutes of pure excitement there is. Sound and movement so great it covers up that the words are kinda dumb and repeat three times. Nothing’s better than being at a bar when this comes on, it JUMPS out of the speakers and whether they even know it or not everyone’s dancing in their own way to it as they drink/talk/hit on me.   - XMASTIME

Dude HERE tries to hate on I Wanna Hold Your Hand, but just comes away correctly pointing out that 1963 was an amazing year for pop music:

It was a good single, obviously, but why does it merit a 50th anniversary commemoration while other songs from 1963 sit uncelebrated on oldies playlists or nostalgia compilations? It was, in fact, an amazing year for pop music, especially for female artists plumbing the contradictions and complexities of adolescent sexual politics. The Crystals had huge hits with “Da Doo Ron Ron,” the rapturous “And Then He Kissed Me” and the frighteningly frank “He Hit Me (It Felt Like a Kiss).” With its familiar drum intro (BOOM! BOOM-BOOM!), chattery castanets and cinematic strings, the Ronettes’ “Be My Baby” remains a towering monument to love and devotion and truly one of the best pop songs of that or any other decade. Sure, “Be My Baby” and so many other girl-group hits are tarnished by their association with superproducer/megalomaniac/murderer Phil Spector, but Ronnie Spector conveys so much poise and dignity that she owns the song utterly and completely. By contrast, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” sounds like the work of cavemen defining pop music as a vehicle for white male desire.

Also in 1963, the Beach Boys released their third album, “Surfer Girl,” which includes the hit single “In My Room.” While they had made a name as a surf pop band singing about surfboards, hot rods and girls in bikinis, “In My Room” underscored the immense melancholy that informed their music and revealed singer/writer/producer/mastermind Brian Wilson as a deeply isolated and lonely individual. The song simultaneously punctured and reinforced the band’s beach mythos, hinting at more “teenage symphonies to God” to come. In April 1963, Johnny Cash — a lifer like the Beach Boys and the Beatles — released what many proclaim to be not only his best tune but the greatest country song ever recorded. Inspired by his love for June Carter, “Ring of Fire” may be the very foundation for the Man in Black mythology that has persisted well into the 21st century, the consecration of Cash as a sinner redeemed by a good woman.

Why aren’t these and other worthy songs (the Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie,” Skeeter Davis’ “The End of the World,” Rufus Thomas’ dada dance hit “Walking the Dog”) given the same attention and affection already afforded the Beatles each year? It can’t be pure nostalgia, as each generation routinely discovers the band at some point in its adolescence.

Then he goes on to say the song should be dismissed because The Beatles became even more amazing.