Yesterday

Every week has a Thursday where you catch yourself replaying something: a conversation, a choice, a version of you from a few days ago. This song is two minutes and five seconds of exactly that feeling, and it never overstays.

What gets me is how little is there. One voice, one acoustic guitar and a string quartet that George Martin had to talk a reluctant McCartney into. No drums, no band; the other three Beatles aren't on it at all. The melody famously arrived in a dream, and it still sounds found rather than written. For weeks its working title was "Scrambled Eggs".

It's one of the most covered songs ever recorded, and yet the original still feels private, like something you overheard. That's why it opens this little run of days: before Friday, Saturday and Sunday pull us forward, one song that's allowed to look back.