In fact, they're not even called the Beatles until 300 pages in Ringo doesn't actually join until around page 700. We probably all knew the acerbic John Lennon could be a bastard, as cruel as he was witty, but Lewisohn uncovers interesting levels of illegitimacy in many of these often part-Irish Catholic families. The sins of all their forefathers are covered in detail going back a couple of generations. Poor Elvis got called up, but the Beatles escaped national service by a whisker, a fact that is well-known, but whose significance is huge. His girlfriend Dot Rhone describes how she and Cynthia Powell, girlfriend of John Lennon, were forbidden to talk about music in company. There is a whole page on the British money system, pre-1971 equally, Lewisohn often points up the casual sexism of the age, in which even the doe-eyed nice boy Paul McCartney indulged.

Beginning well before the beginning, this edition of Tune In runs to 946 pages of social, local and personal histories, interspersed with exhaustive explications of the wider forces and happenstance surrounding the Beatles' genesis. It is a hugely old-fashioned brick of a book, written (and priced) for a baby boomer generation who – like babies, perhaps – quite enjoy being told the same story for the umpteenth time.

Tune In, the first volume, has all the heft of the Old Testament, with greater forensic rigour. Lewisohn is an all-knowing figure the subject's foremost authority, a super-fan with skills beyond hyperventilation. But that hasn't stopped seasoned Beatles writer Mark Lewisohn penning what is shaping up to be the bible of all things Fab – a three-volume definitive history. W hether or not the Beatles were bigger than Jesus remains a moot point.

Tune in by mark lewisohn