Much is said about how the Beatles changed the world.
But before they conquered the planet, they changed Liverpool.
The city that gave birth to them went from a declining port to a global cultural icon, thanks in part to the shaggy-haired quartet who started out playing in cramped clubs and smoky pubs. Venues like the Cavern Club, which once hosted near-anonymous weekly gigs, became places of pilgrimage.
So, what was Liverpool like in the Beatles’ time, and what is it like now? That’s exactly what we’re about to explore.
1. Mathew Street
Then: Grit, Guitars and the Start of Something Big
In the late 1950s and early ’60s, Mathew Street was just another backstreet in Liverpool’s commercial district: narrow, a little grimy, made mostly of warehouses and delivery bays. But tucked beneath No. 10 was The Cavern Club, a smoky basement that would go on to host The Beatles nearly 300 times.
By day, Mathew Street was unremarkable. By night, it was alive. Young bands hauled amps down steep steps, fans queued for hours, and the whole area pulsed with the raw promise of something new. The Beatles weren’t the only ones to play there.
The street echoed with the early sounds of Merseybeat, long before it had a name.
There were no Beatles statues, no plaques, no memorabilia shops. Just sweat, sound, and cigarette smoke.
Now: A Shrine to Sound
Fast forward to today, and Mathew Street is one of the most famous music neighbourhoods in the world. It’s a completely different place. Cleaner, brighter, full of bars, music venues, Beatles-themed pubs and shops. Tourists from across the globe come to stand on its cobbles, with cameras or mobiles in hand, hoping to feel a trace of that 60s magic.
You’ll find the John Lennon statue leaning casually outside The Cavern Pub. The “Four Lads Who Shook the World” sculpture stands further up. Walls are covered in murals, lyrics, and fan tributes. There are buskers in Beatles wigs and walking tours every hour.
And yet, beneath the photo ops and gift shops, there’s still something undeniably real. The Cavern Club, rebuilt just metres from the original site, is still filled with music. Tribute acts channel Lennon and McCartney nightly. Locals still gather. Pints still spill. And the street still beats.
2. Penny Lane
Then: Just Another Street
In the 1950s, Penny Lane was nothing special. A typical suburban street in Mossley Hill, it had a bus shelter, a barbershop, a bank, and a collection of quiet terraced houses.
It was part of Paul McCartney’s everyday world, the route he’d take to school, the stop where he’d catch the number 86 bus. The things mentioned in the song were real, unremarkable details: the nurse selling poppies, the fireman with an hourglass, the “shelter in the middle of the roundabout.”
Nobody thought twice about it. It was just Penny Lane, an ordinary British street in a not-so-ordinary British city.
Now: A Street Immortalised
Everything changed in 1967. With the release of Penny Lane, the street was no longer just a street. It became a symbol of nostalgia, of youth, of the common turned extraordinary. And fans never stopped coming.
Today, Penny Lane is both a functioning road and a tourist destination. The iconic street signs are regularly stolen (and just as often replaced), and almost every corner is steeped in Beatles references.
You can visit a replica of the original Penny Lane barber shop, now proudly displaying its lyrical claim to fame. The roundabout is still there, though the shelter in the middle has long since changed use (currently a café). A local wine bar, several Beatles murals, and themed cafés all nod to the legacy.
Some fans arrive expecting a grand monument. What they find instead is something quieter and more honest: a regular street made unforgettable by memory and melody.
3. Strawberry Field
Then: A Place to Escape
Strawberry Field wasn’t a field at all; it was a Salvation Army children’s home tucked away in a leafy part of Woolton, not far from where John Lennon grew up.
As a child, John would often wander the neighbourhood, cutting through the woods and sneaking into the garden behind the red gates of Strawberry Field. It was quiet, green, and just mysterious enough to feel magical. At least for John.
He never lived there. But he visited often. The place left such an impression that, years later, he’d write Strawberry Fields Forever, a surreal, dreamlike song about memory, loss, and not quite fitting in.
Now: A Sanctuary Reimagined
Strawberry Field closed as a children’s home in 2005, but its story didn’t end there. For years, fans made the pilgrimage to its famous red gates, scrawling lyrics, names, and love notes across them, even though the site itself remained closed to the public.
That changed in 2019, when the Salvation Army reopened the grounds as a visitor attraction. Today, Strawberry Field is a beautiful and reflective space, part museum, part garden, part community project.
You can now walk the paths Lennon once roamed. Inside, there’s an interactive exhibition exploring his connection to the place, the history of the children’s home, and the meaning behind the song. The original red gates are on display, with replicas now marking the entrance.
It’s still a place of escape. Only now, it welcomes you in.
4. Liverpool College of Art & Quarry Bank High School
Then: Where Rebellion Took Root
Before the suits and the Shea Stadium screams, there were classrooms, and a lot of rule-breaking.
Quarry Bank High School, in the leafy suburb of Allerton, was where a teenage John Lennon first began to show signs of his sharp wit, creative spark, and general disdain for authority. He formed his first band, The Quarrymen, with schoolmates in 1956, naming it after the school, of course. It started as skiffle, turned into rock ‘n’ roll, and eventually morphed into The Beatles.
John was clever, but he didn’t thrive in a traditional academic setting. What he did find, though, was a growing obsession with music and drawing, both of which he carried over to his next stop: Liverpool College of Art, just across the street from the University of Liverpool.
There, John met Stuart Sutcliffe, who would later join the early Beatles as their original bassist. The two became close friends, sketching, smoking, and shaping what would become the band’s early aesthetic. Lennon rarely turned up to class, but his time there was instrumental in expanding his world beyond Liverpool’s streets.
Now: Still Standing, Still Creating
Quarry Bank, now known as Calderstones School, continues as a secondary school today, but with a proud Beatles link.
A plaque marks its connection to Lennon, and it still features in Beatles tours. The fields where The Quarrymen once played their first gigs are now ordinary school grounds, but the story lives on in local legend.
Liverpool College of Art has evolved into part of Liverpool John Moores University’s School of Art and Design, housed in the same building where Lennon once scrawled cartoons instead of taking notes. The atmosphere has changed (fewer cigarettes, more coursework, at least in theory), but it remains a space for experimentation and creativity.
Both institutions have kept their connection to The Beatles visible but subtle. They’re not museums. They’re still functioning schools.
5. Liverpool City Centre: Then vs Now
Then: A City on the Edge
When The Beatles were growing up, Liverpool city centre was gritty, busy, and bearing the scars of the Second World War. Bomb craters, soot-stained buildings, and a struggling port economy gave the city a rough-around-the-edges feel.
Still, the centre had a pulse. Bold Street, Church Street, and Lime Street were bustling with department stores, cinemas, cafés and dance halls. It was in and around these streets that the young Beatles soaked up culture, including American rock ‘n’ roll records from NEMS (Brian Epstein’s family shop), late-night gigs, and teenage fashion trends.
But tourism? Museums? Those didn’t exist yet.
Now: A Cultural Comeback, With a Soundtrack
Today, the city centre is a different place entirely. The docks have been transformed, the skyline has evolved, and the city embraces its past while confidently looking forward.
The turning point? 2008, when Liverpool was named European Capital of Culture.
That year marked a rebirth. Billions were invested in infrastructure, art, and public spaces. The Royal Albert Dock was reinvented as a hub for galleries, museums, and waterfront cafés. Streets were cleaned up, venues revived, and suddenly, Liverpool once again became one of the UK’s most exciting cultural cities.
The Music Never Really Left
Cities change. Streets get cleaned up, buildings go, others rise in their place. What was once wild becomes curated. What was overlooked becomes photographed. And yet, in Liverpool, something lingers.
It’s not just the murals, or the music tours, or the statues in bronze. It’s the way the city still feels like a place where something could happen. Where someone, somewhere, might be writing the next thing that changes everything.
