FAB gear, the haircuts, Liverpool, George, John and Ringo. Screaming fans, Rock ’n’ roll.

On Tuesday morning Paul McCartney turned up on Radio 4’s Today Programme to chat about the new exhibition of his photographs that goes on show to the public in London next week when the National Portrait Gallery reopens.

The headlines from the interview were all about how AI had been used to extract an old John Lennon vocal from a demo to complete an unheard Beatles tune, but mostly Macca was just happy to reminisce.

Talking to Martha Kearney, who was clearly thrilled to be talking to him, McCartney told a few of the old stories once more as they both looked at the photos he took back in 1964 in the eye of the storm (also the title of the exhibition and the accompanying book).

Because it’s what we want, isn’t it? Beatletalk. Stories about when the world was young(er) and four lads from Liverpool could (and did) change the world.

McCartney turns 81 on Sunday. He’s been talking about his youth for some 60 years now (starting from when he was still living it). And like nearly everyone else I’m happy listening to him do so.

But I sometimes wonder if, in 1963 and 1964, everyone was desperate to hear stories about music hall star Marie Lloyd? There was certainly some interest in dressing up like Victorians down Carnaby Street, but did it stretch beyond that?

These days the past - or at least that part of it still within living memory - isn’t quite the foreign country it might once have been. The long tail of the 20th century is still twitching away furiously.

Here we are nearly a quarter of a century into the 21st century and the last one still has this hold over us. We live in an eternal now that stretches from the 1960s (at least) to the present day.

Go into a supermarket and you will hear the music of the 1970s and 1980s playing over the sound system. Visit the cinema and you will watch heroes who originally belonged to the atomic age.

Culture as a comfort blanket, you might say. Why chance your arm on something new when you can see a live action version of The Little Mermaid movie or the latest reiteration of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Mutant Mayhem, out July 31)?

In the era of late cultural capitalism, the obsession with brand recognition has taken over. And so it recycles old ideas for new audiences. Hence the constant reboots and reimaginings of 20th-century pop culture, from Star Trek to Star Wars, from the Marvel Universe to Agatha Christie.

For those of us who have more time behind us than in front, the pull of the past can be strong. History calls us because, soon enough, we will be history ourselves. And as time slips away the mystery of it - of who we once were - grows. And so we tell the old stories because they’re our grip on what went before. And the 20th century gave us the tech to remember those stories.

Is this a bad thing? Maybe. We seem much less interested in the shock of the new these days, which is surely where culture rejuvenates itself.

In the circumstances you could be forgiven for wondering if the 21st century has even started yet. But maybe the more interesting question is when will the 20th century end? When the last brick of the postwar consensus collapses and the NHS is no longer free at the point of delivery? (Maybe not as far away as we might hope). When China becomes a cultural as well as an economic power? When our 20th-century heroes pass away? When we do?

For the moment, Beatles still walk among us. Long may they do so. It’s fun listening to their stories. But maybe we need to remember to listen to new stories too.