Showing posts with label 1965. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1965. Show all posts

Sunday, April 12, 2026

Sun Rise (1965)


 Sun Rise

By Burnett Rigg

Fabulous Magazine

1965


    "Help!" shouted Victor Spinetti. "Someone ransacked my pad!" And he wasn't just plugging the Beatles' new movie. For a fortune and souvenirs of the locations of the second film Vic had made with John, George, Paul, and Ringo had flown actor Victor. 

    He was the stuck up TV producer in A Hard Day's Night, and is the zany professor in Help!  He told me about the robbery the morning after it happened in his London flat. With Help! now running in the West End, Fab wanted to look back on the making of it. This was why I had called on Victor. 

    We were sitting in his lounge, which has a window with a panoramic view of London. "Ringo and  Maureen live just up the road, "said Vic. "I was over at their flat a couple of nights ago. John, Cynthia, George, Pattie Boyd, Paul, and Jane Asher were there too. We were going to a party, but we didn't move. Instead, Maureen made tea, and we just sat chatting and watching television."

     He got up and fixed a couple of drinks, handed me one, sat down, and said, " You asked me about the film. I love working on it even more than A Hard Day's Night, and that's saying something.! 

    "We had fabulous fun in the Bahamas and in the Alps. We got up at dawn nearly every morning in both places and began shooting straight away. In the Bahamas, it was very hot, and we swam every morning before work.

     "George celebrated his 22nd birthday there. We had a rave-up party that night. In fact, the birthday Beatle gave me the candles from his cake to distribute among the members of my fan club."

     Vic's success in the States through A Hard Day's Night and on Broadway with the show, Oh, What a Lovely War, has gained him four fan clubs, three stateside, and one here in Britain, which keeps him busy answering fan mail, not that Vic minds. He went on happily talking about Help! 

    "One time, our director, Dick Lester had called a coffee break on the set," he said. "John Lennon and I were sipping coffee in a corner, and suddenly he turned to me and said, 'Hey, Victor, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. You know when the director shouts 'action' and all the others, Eleanor, Braun, Leo, McKern, and Roy Kinnear jumped into their characters? Why do you just stay the same? Does that make your acting as bad as ours?"

     And Vic spoke to me about George. "The first time I saw George was at London Airport en route to Nassau and  he said, 'Victor, I just want you to know that my mom's Glad you're in the picture with us. I thought this was great. Actually, one night, George and I went on a crazy spin around Nassau in his open sports car. (The Beatles each had an open sports car to run around in. ) Suddenly, George began singing at the top of his voice. He belted out numbers like 'Leaning on a Lamp Post'  and went on singign "Cleaning Windows" and a host of other old-time hits made famous by the late George Formby. I asked him how he managed to memorize all the words of old numbers. 'I really dug old George Formby,' was George's reply. Then it began raining, and we ended up tearing along singing 'When You Walk Through a Storm.' It was crazy, but fun."

     He talked about Ringo and Paul. "Ringo and Paul couldn't get together to supply a cabaret for all of us on the Film Unit often enough, as far as we were concerned, they do an improvised act, which is hysterical. I'm not joking when I say we were on the floor, helpless. What fabulous ad lib talent these boys have.

     Finally Victor Spoke about Victor. "There was the night our plane touched down in New York, and a load of members of my fan club had turned up to meet me. They cheered as I left the plane. They didn't know the Beatles were on board. Then the boys followed behind me, but I had stolen the scene. John, George, Paul, and Ringo still send me up about it."

     I could have listened for hours to Victor Beatle talk, but it was noon, and Vic had a lunch appointment. I rose to leave, but not without a picture of Vic dressed as a guardsman and George saluting him. That was one souvenir the burglar did not pinch from Vic's pad. I.

Sunday, March 29, 2026

Tape to Type (1965)

John is being interviewed by Fred Robbins

 Tape to Type

Interview with John Lennon Part 2

Photoplay Magazine

1965


Fred:   What about this musical that you and Paul McCartney are planning to write together? Have you started it yet?

 John:   It's just a matter of getting enough time. We'd like to do it properly-- write a story and the music. So I think we won't do it for another year or two when things are quieter. 

Fred: How do you go about writing your songs? 

John:  I think it's partly something natural and partly something that Paul and I spark off in each other. Individually, we probably wouldn't have written so many of them, and they might not have been of such good quality as the ones we've written together. It's just luck. 

Fred: You'd say then that Northern Songs Ltd, which is now on the London Stock Exchange, has a pretty good future?

 John:  I think it has a great future, although I don't know much about the financial side of it. Some people say it's speculative stock because no one knows how long Paul and I will stay together, but we intend to stick together. And if you can write songs, you can write them all your life. Even if the public's taste should change, it shouldn't make too much difference. People forget that our songs are songs in their own right, not just rock and roll songs. They can easily be sung in any style you like.

 Fred: I've heard you sing many songs that aren't your own, like "Button up Your Overcoat " and "Nothing Can Be Finer Than to Be in Carolina." Why don't you make an album of someone else's songs for a change?

 John: It's not very profitable.  But we do have an interest in songs and music of all kinds. We probably know a million songs, but we very rarely sing our own songs when we're just entertaining ourselves or our friends.

 Fred: What about your writing? Will you write more books? 

John:  I've been writing since before I started playing the guitar. I can always turn it out, but I don't know if the standard will remain the same, and a lot depends on whether people will want to read it.

 Fred:  I heard that you were going to stop doing concerts. 

John: That's not true. It's just because we haven't done any while working on the film, but we have concerts planned for Europe, America, and Britain, too. Now, does that sound like we are planning to give up tours and concerts?

 Fred: A lot of people have been very busy analyzing the effect the Beatles have had on teenagers, particularly psychologists and sociologists. What do you think about all this? 

John: You can analyze anything--- what someone thinks of a bottle of milk, if you like. If you believe in that stuff. You can go on and on, analyzing, creating theories, and philosophizing about them. But in the end, it doesn't really mean anything, and it doesn't matter anyway.

 Fred:  The Beatles will probably go down in history as being one of the biggest things in show business, at least of this generation. Don't you think so?

 John: If you read the history books, you find very little in them about show business people, and I think we'll probably be forgotten like the rest of them.

 Fred: If you didn't have protection from the big crowds of fans, do you think it would be really dangerous for you? Do you really think that you might be seriously injured if they got out of hand?

 John:  I think we'd probably get killed. The fans wouldn't mean to harm us, but we have nearly been caught once or twice, and it was really frightening. When five people want to touch you, it's all right, but when it's 500, you forget that they're fans and you want to run for your life.

 Fred: What's the next worst thing about fame? What bothers you personally? 

John: The next worst thing for me is the social life that goes with it. You know, meetings, lords, governors, and so on. I just don't like it. It has nothing to do with me. I'm writing and singing, and I don't like having to go to dinners. People are always trying to draw me into polite conversation and boring me with stuff. This kind of thing doesn't interest me at all, and it never will. 

Fred: Have you given any thought to what will happen as you get older? Will the fans forget you in time?

 John: Of course they will. And it could happen any day, but we're not worried about it. We'll be sorry when it's over, but obviously, we're not going to be jumping around at 40. 

Fred: Success hasn't spoiled you guys, has it? It doesn't seem to have changed you at all. 

John: No, I'm glad you say that. Some people think it has, but they don't realize that we were just as lousy before we were successful. 

Wednesday, March 4, 2026

George Harrison Talks about the Indian Sound (1966)


 

George Harrison Talks about the Indian Sound (1966)

By Sean O'Mahony

Beat Instrumental

March 1966


    Just before George Harrison took off for Barbados with Pattie for their delayed honeymoon, he talked to me about the Beatles. Thinking of future trends in the pop music sphere, his use of a sitar on the backing track of "Norwegian Wood" and his newfound interest in Indian music have received a lot of comment recently.

     The Beatles, of course, are not the only ones to mention the music of the subcontinent in pop terms; many devotees like Decca's Tony Hall and Donovan are reputedly knocked out by the playing of gentlemen like Ravi Shankar. 

    When I talked to George, he was sitting on the wooden block floor of his music room in his home in Esher, nursing his sitar. All the room contains is a wall hung with guitars and a small jukebox. There aren't many Beatles titles on the list of records either. As George explained, he had to sit cross-legged on the floor because it was impossible to play the sitar any other way. Its long neck and heavy bowl make it almost impossible to play standing up, unless you rest the bowl on a table or something to support it. The equivalent of frets on this instrument are brass ring-like pieces which are fixed onto the neck, but compared with an ordinary guitar as we know it, they seem to be much scarcer, with the result that you have to play the instrument rather like a cross between a violin and a guitar to find the intermediate notes between the frets. 

    I couldn't resist asking George whether he thought this type of music would catch on. "I wouldn't be at all surprised if one day, when we are a lot older, our kids walk into the room and put some records on, which will be based on this type of music," he replied. "Maybe we will turn around and say, 'What the hell is that noise?'"

     "Isn't the Indian music scale different from ours? "I asked him. "Yes, it is different," George agreed. "In actual fact, it is far more complicated than the one we use. We think that Indian music has a lot of weird sounds in it. It doesn't sound right to our ears because we aren't used to it. In fact, to my mind, it's much more advanced than our scale. 

    "It does sound a bit distorted, but you have got to remember that a lot of the most interesting noises on top discs today are based on distortion. Jeff Beck, for example, gets some fabulous sounds by moving his guitar in front of his amp to create feedback." George returned to his sitar, but somehow I don't think we will see the Beatles sitting cross-legged on stage playing Indian instruments. 



Thursday, January 8, 2026

How a Beatle Looks at Life (1965)

 

How a Beatle Looks at Life

By Ray Coleman

Disc Weekly

October 2, 1965


    As Britain prepares for yet another bout of Beatlemania, when the group takes off on a new concert tour, one nagging question is rearing from a new wave of knockers. "How much longer can they keep it up?"  The same question was asked three years ago when the Beatles shattered record after record, while their own top hits paraded around the world.  They asked that when the Beatles conquered America, and now, with each Beatles an MBE and part of the pop establishment, people are throwing up a well-worn blast. "It's all over now. They're on the way down. There's nothing left for them to achieve."

     Age comes into it, too. John and Ringo are both 25, Paul is 23, and George is 22. It was this explosive topic that Lennon tackled this week between a guitar practice at his house in Weybridge, Surrey. The hard man of the Beatles was in searing form as he tackled the hottest subject of all: the Beatles and old age.

     "I only think about age when somebody reminds me," John began. "I don't like thinking about it much. I ought to start by saying that we felt old when we started, that is, when Brian Epstein found us. We thought we'd had it, and we left it too late to make it.

     "But I reckon this: years don't affect your mind, really. They can give your face wrinkles, but it's your attitude and outlook that counts. 

    "According to the rules of the pop world, we're too old, but we don't look any older than the Stones, do we? And we don't act any older either. We only look older than, say, The Who, and I've seen them, look about 30 some nights!

    "The most important thing about all this is that I've met people of 30 who aren't 30 in mentality. The law says they've lived 30 years. But although age can give you experience, some people aren't capable of using the experience. I'm 26 next year, the rules say I'm a fully grown man, settled down, and all that. But I'm not. I've still got a young outlook, I hope. Age can give you a lot if you want to use what it offers. That's what I want to do with my age and experience, use it .

    "30 years doesn't necessarily mean intelligence. You know, I met some right old nits of 40!"

      As the Beatles grew older, were they still out to get new fans? Have they started aiming for an older audience? "You can never satisfy them all," John answered. There was a time when we seemed to be doing everything at once, getting older people interested in what we were doing, as well as younger people. 

    "But to try to satisfy everybody is hopeless. This tour we're doing, for example, we can't cover the whole country with it unless we do a very long tour. So, because I don't feel like dropping dead from overwork just yet, not even if I am 25, there's bound to be people writing in from Umbo on Sea saying, 'Why aren't the Beatles coming here?' It's the whole attitude to fans that we've got to think about. I think we've got it all sorted out in our own minds, but it's hard to try to make people understand.

     "The 'Help' single sold much better than the two before it, 'I Feel Fine' and 'Ticket to Ride', but there were still a lot of fans who didn't like 'Help'. They said, 'Ah, the Beatles are dropping us. This isn't as good as A Hard Day's Night'. So you can't win. 

    Trying to please everybody is impossible. If you did that, you'd end up in the middle with nobody liking you. You've just got to make the decision about what you think is your best and do it."

     John was in a reflective mood now. He discarded his guitar, turned off the amplifier, and took up a deep thinking position, gazing out of the window of the rehearsal room in his multi room mansion.

     "People think of us as machines. They pay 6s 8d for a record, and we have to do what they say, like a Jack-in-the-Box. I don't like that side of it much. Some people have got it all wrong. We produce something, say, a record, and if they like it, they get it. 

    "The onus isn't on us to produce something great every time; the onus is on the public to decide whether they like it or not. It's annoying when people turn around and say, 'but we made you, you ungrateful swines'. I know they did in a way,  but there's a limit to what we're bound to live up to, as if it's a duty. 

    "When I had my black windows put in my Rolls-Royce, somebody said 'Lennon's turning his back and running away from the people who made him--- hide.' Rubbish! 

     "If I go to a shop down the road and buy a bunch of roses, I don't expect the bloke to be so grateful that he spends his life bowing and scraping. I like the roses, so I buy them, and that's that. 

    "I don't want to sound as if we don't like being liked. We appreciate it, but we can't spend our lives being dictated to. Think about Kellogg's cornflakes. If you buy cornflakes, do you expect Mr. Kellogg to spend his life being told how to do everything and how to behave? No. And if you buy a loaf of bread and it's lousy, you just don't buy it again. 

    "It's not all that much different with us. We make a record, and if you like it, you buy it. If you don't, you don't buy it. It's up to the public to decide."

     John went on to talk about the controversial Help! film and admitted it was a mistake. "We went wrong with the picture somehow. I think we went just slightly the wrong way with it. Help!, as a film was like "Eight Days a Week" as a record for us. A lot of people like the film, and a lot of people like that record, but neither was what we really wanted. We knew they weren't really us. We weren't ashamed of the film, but close friends know that the picture and "Eight Days" as a record weren't our best. They were both a bit manufactured.

     "The film won't harm us, but we weren't in full control. We're not sure what comes next in the way of a film. It isn't definite that the next thing will be Talent For Loving, nothing is certain about us. We just want to make sure we do better than Help! 

    John drank more tea and pondered. He talked for another hour about how he worries when he sees moms and dads and Beatles audiences, about Beatles fan mail and its size, about the state of the pop music scene. These and other important Beatles subjects will be covered in part two of the John Lennon interview next week.

Thursday, December 25, 2025

The infamous accident



 December 26, 1965


Let's have this conversation WITHOUT getting into the silly Paul-is-Dead conspiracy, okay?   Paul's official story about the moped accident was that on Boxing Day of 1965, he and his friend, Tara Browne, were riding mopeds around Liverpool.  Paul had been there visiting his family for the holidays, and Tara was visiting him.   Paul talks about how he was looking at the full moon when he suddenly realized he was going to smash his face into the pavement and couldn't stop.   Bam!  Paul gets all banged up and a semi-drunk doctor gets called and stiches him up without any pain killers.  Paul's brother Mike takes some photos.   While some people will tell you that there wasn't a full moon on December 26, 1965 -- that isn't even the part of the story that bothers me.   What bothers me is the next part that Paul always tells.   

He goes on to say how he had a bump on his lip, and so he grew a mustache. The other Beatles saw him with it and liked it, and that is why all of the Beatles had mustaches during the Sgt. Pepper era.  WHAT??   

Whenever Paul tells this story, he completely skips the year 1966.  In January 1966, Paul did not have a mustache.  We see him at George and Pattie's wedding, and I never noticed a bump on his lip when he is trying to kiss Pattie in the wedding photos.  

So then I assume that Paul just got the year wrong.  But check out this article Neil Aspinall wrote for a magazine called Fabulous208, which was published July 26, 1966. This leads me to believe it is the true story of what happened in 1965.   Which then makes me wonder if Paul didn't have another moped accident or some sort of accident again in December 1966.


    Of all the Beatles, Paul has always been the biggest believer in theatrical type disguises. As I was saying last week, he and a friend decided to go for a spin on a couple of mopeds around his father's place in the Wirral last July.

 

    Paul put on an old raincoat, beret (to hide his Beatle mop), false mustache, and glasses. "How on earth will you be able to see through those?" asked his father. (The glasses had thick lenses.)

     

    "I needn't wear these all the time", decided Paul slipping them in his pocket. "I'll shove them on if I have to stop for petrol or anything."

     

    Inevitably, the moped ran low on petrol, and Paul had to pull in at a service station. Problem was he couldn't find the right pump for the special moped two stroke fuel mixture, because the lenses blurred his view. At last, he found the right pump.

     

A girl attendant came over at once. Paul put on one of his special accents, "Fill 'er up, please", he said in a mock American accent. "Sure, Paul," the girl replied at once. "What the.......? How did you recognize me?"   "I'd know that voice anywhere, luv."

 

    If he'd used his own voice and not worn such fantastic clothes, I guess Paul would have got away with it. You'd be amazed how different a Beatle looks with his hair brushed back. That's as far as Paul should have gone, just the beret to keep his long hair pulled back off his face.

 

    Paul still has those two mopeds, by the way, he uses them every time he visits his father. A couple of weeks after the tour, he went up to Liverpool, just before Christmas, this time, there was a lot of ice on the roads around the Whirrl district, and Paul skidded violently. He came tumbling off and cut his lip. The gash healed up quickly, but Paul had to have stitches put in his mouth, and it was quite painful for a week or so.

  



Wednesday, December 24, 2025

Beatlemania Rages On! (1965)

photo copyright held by Sara Schmidt 

 

Beatlesmania Rages On!

Written By Eugene Gilbert

The San Bernadeno County Sun

December 25, 1965


    Hold your ears, Dad. Beatlemania once thought a passing fad, apparently, is here to stay, and hip teens now see the long hairs from London as pace setters and a whole new trend of music yet to be explored.

     Some of them assert that Elvis Presley is for old people. "The Beatles are kings," says Ricky Flake, 15, of Pomona, California. A whopping 75% or 821 of 1100 teenagers we interviewed agreed with him. The reason, as dad may suspect, very considerably.

     16-year-old Jay Gartman of Miami, Florida, likes them because "they've calmed down a good cultural music." Jay's classmate Alex Dawns, 16, thinks the Beatles are "neat dressers."

     17% of our teenagers pick Presley over the Beatles. Presley is the hip swinging, guitar-playing gyrator who rocketed to fame and millions in the 50s and at 30 is still going strong. Those who prefer Presley are usually the older teenagers, those young enough to have been at the hair-tearing hero worship stage a few years ago, and the Presley fans look with mock disapproval at the Beatles bandwagon.

     "I remember Presley when he started, and I always enjoyed him," said Gary Lautenberg, 19, of Flushing, New York. Vince Lowney, 16 of Geneva, New York, says "Presley, at least sings."  And Clinton Weimeister, 18, of Baltimore, says he prefers Presley because "he's American."

     There's some dissension in the Beatles ranks over who has had or will have the greatest influence on pop singing. A solid 48% or 528 of the 1100 say the Beatles' influence is the strongest, and another 21% or 229 teens pick Presley, perhaps giving him more credit for age.

     A quarter percent of those polled choose various other English singing groups, as well as Sonny and Cher, Bob Dylan, and Herman's Hermits.

     "Presley actually started modern pop singing and thus has had a greater effect," says Clayton White, 17, of Capertino, California. Some agree with Clayton, some don't, depending on when their conception of pop music begins. 

    For 12-year-old Kim Phillips of Lincoln, Nebraska, "The Beatles' idea of music is the best in a long time, and a far greater influence than Presley."  Linda Goldberg, 13, of Pennsauken, New Jersey, says "the Beatles are the greater influence in music because no one can top them. "

    In Miami, 14-year-old Norma Harina says, "The Beatles are new and something different. Presley is for old people."

     In 10 years, when Norma, Linda, Gary, and Vince are parents, maybe there will be a new trend towards chamber music. Meanwhile, relax, Dad, those long hairs and their offshoots are well entrenched.


Thursday, December 4, 2025

Close Up: Paul McCartney as a songwriter (1965)

Photo by Robert Freeman

 

Close Up:  Paul McCartney as a Songwriter

By Francis Wyndham

London Life

December 4, 1965


    Their separate personalities are as clearly defined as characters in a fairy tale: John the clever one, Paul the sweet one, George the quiet one, and Ringo the holy fool. As these public images are rooted in a private reality, there seems little point in meeting the Beatles. Social confrontation can only confirm the known and simple truth. 

    Yet I was curious to talk to John Lennon and Paul McCartney, because it is as songwriters, rather than as performers, that The Beatles interest me most. When I met them both together, however, they gave me an impenetrable performance, a double act, with John facetiously punning on cliches and Paul obligingly feeding him. The jokes are good, but no better than Beatle jokes on the cinema or television screens.

     Later, I had a chance to spend two hours with Paul at Brian Epstein's office. He was ready to talk about his music, and did so with the minimum of suspicion or self-consciousness. The sweet and their desire to please can be even more articulate than the clever.

     "John and I don't work on the Roger and Hart pattern, one doing music and one doing lyrics. He writes a whole song on his own, or I write a whole song on my own. Or if we do a song together, either he might do the words and I the music, or the other way around. John wrote "I Feel Fine" on his own, and "Please, Please Me," and a lot more. What did I write on my own? Oh, "World Without Love," "Yesterday", "Can't Buy Me Love," "All My Loving," and quite a few others.  Mine are normally a bit soppier than John's. That's because I am a bit soppier than John. 

    "When I first met John, he'd written the words to a skiffle song. It still had a skiffly sound, but he changed the words to "Come and go with me down at the penitentiary" or something like that. Then I did one "When I Lost My Little Girl" with the three chords I knew at the time. John was playing left-handed banjo. Then we got out of that stage and worked out chords together. We used to play truant (tut, tut, what a bad example to the younger generation) and go to his house or to mine and mess about all afternoon. It was a great feeling of escape. We'd smoke, you see, and if we didn't have cigarettes, we'd smoke tea in my dad's pipe. It tasted terrible, but we felt manly doing it.

     "I wrote a couple of songs. One was "Love Me Do"; it wasn't good, but it was only a little bit worse than the kind of thing on the hit parade. Then, at that time, all the people we really liked were American. Buddy Holly was the main one, and Elvis in those days. We were fantastic fans, but he's gone off a lot since, and we don't like his later stuff (We took him up on that matter when we met him and in Los Angeles). Then we started latching onto most of the American hits of the time. Chuck Berry was a ridiculous favorite. 

    "Liverpool has always been a great place for the folksy thing. Ringo is ridiculously keen on Country and Western. Somebody you should say was Country and Western gone pop was Carl Perkins, who we really loved. 

    "Well, this big batch of songs --the summer holidays and truant batch-- was our first. Then we started to write better songs instead of, "Love me do I'll always be true,"  we started on lyrics like "lock me away."  But everything we've done, we get sick of. We got some comedy songs on our new LP. There's one called "Norwegian Wood". It goes, "She showed me a room, isn't it good Norwegian Wood? I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine, and then she said, It's time for bed, so I lit a fire. Isn't it good, Norwegian Wood?" It's something new for us. It's just we're a bit sick, so we thought we'd write something funny. 

    "I feel as though it's an interesting time just now, because something's got to happen. There's got to be some kind of change. It probably won't be drastic, but I think it's a good thing about us that we keep contradicting ourselves. I saw someone on TV asked what he wanted out of life, and he said, 'a cozy rut, to be in a cozy rut'. It's about the sickest thing ever. I think you can enjoy it, but what's the point of living in a cozy rut? We could stay in one now forever, repeating our early hits, and if we did come up with something exciting, we'd have to scrap it. 

    "Then we played at the Cavern. We wore leather jackets, and we were rockers, and it was good. Then we got a manager and did melodic songs and put suits on. When we came back from Germany with suits on, people said, 'Oh, you've gone posh'. And we lost a lot of people, but we gained more than we lost. The others didn't realize they would have got very sick of us. We'd never had lasted. You can't be singing 15-year-old songs at 20, because you don't think 15-year-old thoughts at 20. The fact that escapes a lot of people. Then we get sick of suits and changed again. 

    "Oh, I don't mean this week, the Beatles with the Philharmonic Orchestra. It won't happen. We'll never be that big. Basically, we're the same. Whatever happens, we just get influenced outwardly. I'm a great believer in influencability (Is that a word? Better look it up.) For example, John and I would like to do songs with just one note. The hardest thing of all to write. You know what people used to say about abstract paintings? That it was done by chimpanzees? Well, we used to think that about songs that weren't melodic, but melodic songs are, in fact, quite easy to write. To write a good song with just one note in it, like "Long Tall Sally", is really very hard. It's the kind of thing we wanted to do for some time. 

    "We get near it in "The Word." That's a number on our new LP, another example of being bored by doing the same thing. It could be a Salvation Army song. The word is 'love', but it could be 'Jesus' (it isn't mind you, but it could be.) 'It's so fine. It's sunshine. It's the word.' It's about nothing, really, but it's about love. It's much more original than our old stuff, less obvious. 'Give the word a chance to say that the word is just the way...' and the organ comes in, just like the Sally Army. 

    "We use an organ too on the B side of our new single, "We Can Work It Out". The middle eight is the best. It changes the beat to a waltz in the middle. The original arrangement was terrible, very skiffly. Then, at the session, George had the idea of splitting the beat completely. The words go on at double speed against the slow waltz music. You've got to excuse me, because I haven't heard these new songs enough yet, and they're still knocking me out. It sounds big-headed, but I don't care. 

    "Listen to this one, "Girl". John's been reading a book about pain and pleasure, about the idea behind Christianity that to have pleasure, you have to have pain. The book says that's all rubbish. It often happens that pain leads to pleasure, but you don't have to have it all. That's a drag. So we've written a song about it with, I suppose, a little bit of protest, though, really, we don't protest. Listen to John's breath on the word 'girl'. We asked the engineer to put it on treble so you get this huge intake of breath, and it sounds just like a percussion instrument. 

    "We had to write 14 Songs for this new LP, plus two for the single. It's a question of value for money more than anything else. We want to do what we would have liked when we were record buyers ourselves. A 14-track LP and a separate single is unheard of in the States; there, you'd have 12 tracks, and the single would just be two numbers from the LP. They're not the same as English record people. It's not quite that they're unscrupulous, but they'll put the singles on the LP just to fill up. It's cheating anyhow, but the scene is different. There, the kids in America can afford to buy an LP just for a few new tracks. But here, they're more choosy. 

    "Did you see Robert Graves and Malcolm Muggeridge on TV? Graves said this thing about his poetry. He said 'he has to write it'. In fact, he said it's a drag, but he has to. And I know what he means, but John and I want to go on writing songs. Writing a song which you think is great, is a great satisfaction. It's one of the principles of life. I think doing something that you think satisfying. We started writing songs as a hobby, and we still do it as a hobby. It's become a very lucrative one, I know, but a hobby.

    "We'd be up at John's house. We'd just sit down, and if we'd done a song, it was a fantastic feeling, just like a day's work, like you'd been to the office for a bit. This is why John and I want to get ourselves a bit more organized. If we wrote a song a day, our rate of development would be so much more. If we have a day off now, we only do it if we've got to.

     "A famous painter has got to paint, but he's still knocking himself out doing it. We've reached that stage. We both want to do a million more things. You find out about a lot of instruments you didn't know already. A lot of people are doing it now, the Animals. Manfred Mann.  We could have done it. "Yesterday" with a philharmonic orchestra, and a lot of people would have come with us. Say we did a song a day. Then we'd have too many. If we had more than we could handle. We could put 14 of our best songs on one LP. We could go in any direction. Then George Martin has done an orchestral arrangement of our songs. Some of them definitely grow by being played on different instruments. The best recording of one of our songs was Esther Phillips singing, "And I Love Him."  Do you like colored voices? Well, listen to that. She sings it. You see, that's the difference. I tried to sing that on the LP, and I couldn't for the life of me. Eric Bergen of the Animals said he never realized this was a good song until he heard Esther Phillips sing it. John and I could do an LP, say, with other people, just an orchestra playing them new songs. I mean, all these ideas, which are just ideas at the moment, could be great when we can put them into practice. 

    "People like Donald Zec are stupid about our songs when they say they won't last. We've reached the point now that, whether people like it or not, they'll be played in 10 years' time. I always feel silly saying our songs will last. What I'm trying to say is that they may not be marvelous, but they're part of what's around at the moment. Zec belongs to the bigoted generation. The kind of person who'd have said to my dad, 'Don't play jazz. '

     "People like Leonard Bernstein have come up to us and said, 'Some of your songs are good. ' I would rather he liked them than Donald Zec, but it's no good trying to please everybody. Had we been frightened of what people said, we would never have put in something like that-- change a beat I mentioned. We've always followed our noses and things like that, and we do identify ourselves with our music. I don't mean exactly. Some of the tragic songs about love are written when we're at our happiest, but they're still us.

     "I'm sure Francis Bacon isn't like what his paintings look like. He'd been having a rough time if he was! It's generally what we feel that's gone into the song. It doesn't have to be the words; it could be the beat or the melody, but it's what's happening at the moment. 

    "We're the world's biggest pinchers, but when you look at people like Handle and see what he pinched, there's nothing wrong with that. We pinch a sound here, a rhythm there. One day, we wrote that Welsh song called "There's a Welcome in the Hillside." Actually wrote it. So we had to scrap that. For years, John has been trying to write "Moonlight in Vermont." On our first LP, there's a complete pinch from an American song. I'd better not tell you which one. And the riff of " I Feel Fine" is also a complete pinch from somewhere. Then people hear the original song and say, 'Oh, what a pinch from The Beatles.' This is what the Stones do a number of times. I don't see the harm in it. There's only a certain permutation of notes, and they've got to clash. We've got a sort of running game with the Stones. They spot where we've pinched things from.  But you get pinching everywhere, in paintings and writings.  You pinch things in your articles. Don't you even in business? Probably some fellow at an office will take a tip or two from the Plane Makers. 

    "Just because our records are played quite a lot, people think we started all these trends. We'd be the last to say we started the Dylan trend; we followed it. Like Beatle haircuts. We didn't start that. It just happened, and we were the first people to become well-known with that haircut. England exploded, didn't it? I don't know. When in the old days, pop stars didn't smoke or swear. They wore gold lame suits, and before John Osborne, nobody could say royalty was rubbish. Now it's all so down to earth. It's getting stupid. And fashion too, for a place like Woollands to do a great big exhibition, Made in England, it couldn't have happened. England started to change, and we were part of it, that's all. And the whole embarrassing thing about being a provincial is different. 

    "Now, we always felt funny when we first came to London, about the north country accent. In the old days, we might have learned to say 'funny', but we could go on saying 'foony.' It was the same with people like Albert Finney and Tim Courtenay. Now it has to happen in America. People in America are so like English people used to be. They liked us in America, but that's different. America has always been built up of phenomenons. Anyhow, anything that's a great success America has always taken to unless it's Russian. 

    "Here, you have to prove yourself more first. I'll be glad when it does level out completely. In a small way, this kind of thing is almost as good as the Industrial Revolution. Things are probably a bit better for the industrial revolution in the long run, but this has been a bloodless revolution, a painless change. Nobody seems to have got hurt, except for the woman who wants to keep TV clean, and she's got to go. Anyhow, if it's bad, it will stop. At least it's happened. If it's wrong, I believe it never could have happened. Of course, you get people now saying it's gone too far. They don't know where to go from here. But people who don't know what to do now are the ones who never did so when there was a big sort of orgasm with one lot of people who wanted to get out of the rut. They went along with them.

     "Then, when the people who know what's happening (what a terrible expression, but you know what I mean)have a period of inactivity. They all do, but it's all still happening. Dylan has started so much, and the Who, they are, the two greatest influence of 1965.  They definitely started us thinking again, Dylan about lyrics, and the Who about backings, bigger feedback, that sort of thing. We had that feedback idea, and I feel fine, but the Who went further and made all kinds of weird new sounds, I suppose Donald Zec would say, what 'would they do without amplifiers?' But that's as silly as asking, if God wanted us to smoke, he'd have given us chimneys. We haven't got chimneys, but we smoke. So what? What would the theater be without a stage and makeup, or movies without a camera? 

    "We enjoyed making Help! more than A Hard Day's Night, but looking back at the two, I think A Hard Day's Night was the better film. We knew we couldn't have another Hard Day's Night, and with the next one, we want to do something even more different. Help! was great, but it wasn't our film. We were sort of guest stars. I think everybody thought a little bit too grandly about Help!,  all these glamorous locations. It was fun, but basically, as an idea for a film, it was a bit wrong.

    " I don't read as much as John does. My main thing is I've got to be settled to read. The times I would read are on a holiday or in bed at night. The other day, I took John to the Times Book Shop. I'd been there before and bought a copy of The Emperor Jones signed by Eugene O'Neill, which really knocked me out. And the fellow there showed me the original manuscript of Under Milk Wood. The great thing about the Times Book Shop is that nobody's going to bother about who you are. Well, John spent an hour there  and £150 . It was a good day for the Times Book \Shop and a good day for John. 

    "And painting too. I keep meaning to get hold of someone good and commission them. It's the obvious thing to do at this stage, but there are a lot of things in life I want to sort out first, and then, when I've got something different going on, I'd like to do something like that. 

    "Writing songs and performing are equally rewarding. That is when it goes well, but the songwriting thing looks like being the only thing you could do at 60. I wouldn't mind being a white haired old man writing songs, but I'd hate to be a white haired old Beatle at the Empress Stadium playing for people.

Sunday, November 30, 2025

This is Why Ringo Got Up at 9am (1965)






 

This is Why Ringo Got Up at 9am

By John Edwards

Daily Mirror

December 1, 1965

    What with everyone complaining about the shortage of money and the cold, it's a good job Ringo Starr turned up at the December sales at Newmarket yesterday. For a moment, brief though it was, the atmosphere got a little warmer; the more retiring horse fanciers would probably say it was exciting as it was. Ringo stayed 15 minutes, bought nothing more expensive than a couple of scotches, and disappeared with his wife, Maureen, and two friends in a red Rolls-Royce to have lunch with former Queens jockey, Harry Carr.

    "I don't know anything about horses, and I don't intend to get one," he said. "The only thing that'll make me remember the sales is that I got up at 9am to get here." But Ringo or no, the sales went on almost without interruption. 


Ringo is Guest

No writer listed

Evening News (London)

December 1, 1965

The Beatle Ringo Starr and his wife, Maureen, who paid a surprise visit to Tattersall's sales at Newmarket, dined with former Queen's jockey Mr. Harry Carr. They arrived in a maroon coloured Rolls Royce and, accompanied by Mr. Fred Black, a racehorse trainer from Berkshire, drove to Mr. Carr's home in Wickhambrook.

     Mr. Carr said, "Ringo and his wife said they wanted a break from the big city, and Newmarket seemed like a good idea."

     Ringo's wife seemed more interested in horses than her husband. 



Thursday, November 27, 2025

Latest on "The Beatles" (1965)


 Before the Internet, fans had to get Beatles news from newspapers, magazines, and word of mouth. Thankfully, some newspapers, such as this one, reported on the Beatles' news during the height of Beatlemania.   Fans would then make long-distance calls to one another and read the news over the phone to their Beatle friends who didn't get the newspaper, or handwrite articles to Beatle pen pals.   

Here is what was going on in the world of the Beatles news 60 years ago.


Latest on "The Beatles"

By Wayne Harada

Honolulu Star-Advisor

November 28, 1965


Along the Beatles circuit:

  •  The Beatles have recorded 16 new tunes in England for a soon-to-be-released album. A new single will also be issued shortly. 
  • Paul McCartney and John Lennon have their own music publishing company, MacLen Music. George Harrison recently formed his own Harrison Ltd.
  •  That Mary Wells is one of the Beatles' favorite vocalists is common knowledge among Beatles fans. Miss Wells' latest album, Love Songs to the Beatles, is thus a fitting tribute to the foursome. She sings such melodies as "And I Love Him."
  •  The Beatles manager, Brian Epstein, recently took over managerial chores for the Moody Blues, a British rhythm and blues vocal instrumental group. 
  • "Boys" (with solo by Ringo Starr) was issued as a single by Capitol, but was quickly pulled from the market when legal complications developed. The replacement single now on Cameo finds Pete Best, ex-Beatle, singing.
  •  With The Beatles, a successful ABC TV color series, Hanna Barbera Productions, noted for numerous animated cartoons, including The Flintstones, has experimented with other rock and roll singers. The Beau Brummels and Danny Hutton have guested on The Flintstones. Now a new series is planned. The Beach Boys, Herman's Hermits, and Gary Lewis and the Playboys are sought.
  •  The Beatles not only wrote the Silkies, "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" hit, but also provided the background guitar work.
  •  Don't be surprised if Jane Asher (Paul McCartney's steady) is in the next Beatles film. Paul reportedly wants Jane to star with the group in the next flick, and she would play Ringo's sweetheart.
  •  "Yesterday" (with Paul soloing) is the biggest hit in the US this year thus far. It was number one nationally for five weeks. It also is number one in Hong Kong.
  •  Matt Monroe's version of "Yesterday" is zooming up the English hit parade. Another rendition by Mary Ann Faithfull is faring well. The Beatles?  It never was issued as a 45 RPM disc. It's in their help LP. 
  • The Beach Boys have gone Beatles in their Beach Boys Party LP, they sing two Lennon-McCartney numbers, "I Should Have Known Better", and "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away". 
  • The Beatles' film of their Shea Stadium, New York concert last August will probably be shown on English TV this Christmas. Worldwide viewing is uncertain, as of yet.
  •  John Lennon is a big fan of the Lovin' Spoonful American folk rock combo. 
  • Ringo had to build a fence around his Weybridge home, but that won't stop fans from scaling the walls. 

Wednesday, November 26, 2025

Drummed Out Beatle Suing Old Chaps for $50 Million (1965)


 

Drummed Out Beatle Suing Old Chaps for $50 Million

By Gary Blonston

The Miami Herald

November 28, 1965


    Just imagine, a bare stage in a hard red spotlight. Two clusters of drums and two mop top silhouettes. Drumsticks at 20 paces. The musical confrontation of the age.

     In this corner, Ringo Starr, the champion. And then the other, Peter Best, 24, the first man in history to try to regain the fame and fortune that go along with the title, Beatle drummer

    It hasn't happened yet, but Pete is ready anytime. Ringo hasn't responded to the challenge.

     Meanwhile, Peter Best, who slammed and kicked and pounded the Beatles to British fame in the early 60s, is seeking satisfaction in court-- $50 million worth. 

    Pete sat in a Miami radio studio Saturday and vowed convincingly that he doesn't dislike Ringo or the Beatles at all. He'd just like to sit in again. 

    There was a time five years ago when a scruffy Liverpool guitarist named Paul McCartney got Pete on the phone and said his group needed a drummer for a musical tour of Germany.

     Yeah, yeah, yeah, said Pete, thereby becoming the Beatles' drummer for two years. It was a good life. Pete was making about £65 a week, about $150, "a lot of money in England", he said.

     Then Beatle manager, Brian Epstein, lowered the boom. "It happened so fast. There never was one specific reason," Pete said. "Epstein said, I was not good as a drummer." Pete recalled. And Ringo picked up the sticks. 

    "Later, I learned of other reasons. There were personality clashes," he said, looking down at his cuffless houndstooth pants. "As far as I was concerned, we were one big, happy family."

     But others said the Beatles' establishment didn't like the attention Pete was getting from the fans; they shrieked at him quite a bit, tore at his clothes, and made other affectionate gestures.

     When Pete was booted, Liverpool aficionados demonstrated against Epstein and the Beatles. One sign said, "Pete forever. Ringo never." Epstein got a black eye and hired a bodyguard.

     But Pete contended that he got worse. Besides the considerable loss of revenue, Pete said he got a black eye in a national magazine that interviewed Ringo. He said he also received lots of bad mouthing from other beaties.

     More than a dozen suits are in progress in England and in New York. Pete's manager, David Rolnick, said they could make Pete a wealthy young Liverpudlian. And even if they don't, they'll clear the air about a lot of things.

     Pete said he has a considerable interest in his reputation, for he has put together a hairy five-man combo now awaiting immigration clearance to perform in the States. He is visiting Miami disc jockey Tom Campbell while the clearance is completed. Then he'll take his gang on a tour on national television. "I'm not trying to cash in on the Beatles' popularity or money", said Pete, "if I could be 1/20 as popular, I would be happy."