Fan Club Offices

Photo from Mary Cockram 

 

Two Beatles on the Floor

 

The Beatles Story (Part 1 by Tony Barrow - 1981)

 

The Beatles Story - Part 1

By Tony Barrow

Liverpool Echo

October 28, 1981

     Brian Epstein's first words to me when we met 20 years ago in my office at Decca Records were, "I've got a group which will be as big as Elvis Presley." He had just become the personal manager of the Beatles. He called on me not in my role as Decca's writer of LP sleeve notes, but because I was also a freelance pop record columnist for the Liverpool Echo. 

    He introduced my ears to the early sounds of the Beatles by playing me a privately made demonstration acetate. He told me that this disc had come from the soundtrack of a documentary film intended for television, made on location in Liverpool's soon-to-be legendary Cavern Club. The recording captured much of the earthy excitement of that sweaty cellar, dominated by the constant screaming of shrill-voiced Scouse schoolgirls. On this disc were to be heard the first audio hints of Beatlemania. If only I had known how to recognize it.

     As a display of the Beatles' ability, it was a disappointment, and I said so to Brian. Evidently, the TV people agreed because the piece was not shown. "I can hear the reaction of the Cavern kids, Brian," I told him. "But I can't get any proper idea of what your group is like. There's no indication of what they can do musically. I wouldn't recommend using this to sell them to a record company producer. I think it's more of a liability than an asset."

     I was not responsible for obtaining a Decca audition for the Beatles. My job was to write on the backs of album covers, not to seek or sign fresh talent. The audition happened because Brian was a powerful Liverpool record retailer, under the name NEMS, derived from North End Music Stores; he managed one of his family's city center shops situated close to the Cavern.

     The Beatles put the blame on Brian Epstein when the group's Decca audition turned out disastrously.  The try-out session took place at Decca's London Studios on New Year's Day in 1962; the Beatles were furious when it failed to result in any offer of a recording contract. This led to a major row between the group and Eppy within the first weeks of their new management deal. I found out about the bust-up by accident when I collected background information from the four boys for the Beatles' first press manual.

     Epstein told me, "Make sure you give equal space to each biography, then talk separately with John about the group's history." Incidentally, I questioned John about the audition.  His answer was emphatic. "That was Eppy's fault. He wouldn't let us do the stuff we wanted. We could have done our best stage numbers, the real ravers. We could have done more of our own material, but Eppy let us use only three, and they weren't our best. He had Paul doing songs like  'September in the Rain' and George doing 'Sheik of Araby.' It was all wrong for an audition. We knew it, and that's why we cocked up most of the tracks."

     John himself had been featured on 'Memphis,' which he thought was all right. I discovered that Paul was happy about the way he had tackled 'The Love of the Loved." Needless to say, none of this went into the first press manual.

     But the following autumn, on October 5, 1962, the Beatles made their belated disc debut via EMI's Parlophone label. The song was "Love Me Do." Brian Epstein stayed in touch. He knew the selling side of the record business, but he was keen to meet my contacts in the more creative territories of pop music. He wanted to know the radio people, the recording managers, and the trade paper journalists.

     Although I am a Liverpudlian, I left Merseyside before the Beatles attracted local attention. From a distance, I would have said that another powerful Merseybeat outfit, the Big Three, was at least as popular with Cavern customers.

    I did not meet John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr until Brian took me to the recording session, which produced the Beatles' first chart-topping single, "Please Please Me." By then, Brian's prediction for the Beatles' future had changed to, "I've got a group which will be bigger than Elvis Presley." He decided to hire his own full-time PR consultant to handle his artists' publicity within the new management company he formed called NEMS Enterprises.

    " Are you offering any percentage of the Beatles?" I asked. I hadn't thought of it. If I did, it would be a very small one. Even a tiny piece of the Beatles would have made me a millionaire several times over during the next five years. But we did not return to the subject. 

    In the spring of 1964, an American fan sent a letter to her favorite pop group in England. She addressed the envelope, "The Beatles, care of H.R.H. Prince Philip, Buckingham Palace, London." Eventually, it reached the Beatles' fan club headquarters in Coventry Garden, but not before someone had written boldly across the envelope "Not known at Buckingham Palace." The Beatles were amused when I showed them the envelope. After all, they had appeared in the 1963 Royal Variety Show the previous November, and they were about to clock up their fifth number one record hit with "Can't Buy Me Love," 

    Beatlemania had been claiming headline space on national newspapers' front pages for at least six months. A year and three chart-topping singles later, in June 1965, it was announced that John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr had been awarded MBE medals. "Philip can stop redirecting our mail now," chucked John. "We'll pick it up personally when his missus infest us."

     I would have liked to publish that quote at the time in the of the infrastructure, but even with the quartet's reputation for making roguish remarks, a Beatles was not supposed to crack royalty jokes in public.

     During the height of Beatlemania in the mid-'60s, in Britain alone, up to 80,000 people belonged to the Beatles fan club, but it did not make money. It did not act as a merchandising machine. Far from showing a profit, it required substantial subsidy and professional supervision from Brian Epstein's management firm, NEMS Enterprises. The whole thing was run as an information source rather than a mail order service. In this respect, the club was unusual because it did not exist to sell souvenirs; when the group's popularity was reaching its peak, no one fan club secretary could have coped with answering incoming mail and processing memberships. On the other hand, I thought it was good public relations to establish one name that all kids could identify with. Personal replies and mass-produced newsletters went out under the signature Anne Collingham. She did not exist and was a staff of full-time fan club clerks.

     Similarly, it would have been physically impossible for the Beatles to satisfy even a tiny portion of the autograph requests they received. Only on rare occasions were John, Paul, George, and Ringo seen to sign photographs or books personally. All the rest were forged with a greater or lesser degree of accuracy by aides who slaved away in dark corners of dressing rooms. The best-known and most widely circulated sets of signatures came from Neil Aspinall, a career-long associate of the group who started out in Liverpool as a roadie and finished up as a boss of the Beatles Apple Company in London.

     Aspinall's expert autographing was so prolific that it appeared on everything from products of souvenir brochures. I suspect he signed the handwritten greeting card which accompanied the Beatles' gift to me of a splendid table lighter, delivered straight on to my desk one Christmas by a livery-clad aspirry messenger.

     Occasionally, a fortunate civic dignitary or a politician's daughter would be able to corner a Beatles somewhere backstage and watch while an autograph was written out. Later on, these people were vulnerable to embarrassment if friends compared the real thing with an Aspinall. Naturally enough, they challenge the unfamiliar original as an apparent fake.'

     I do not condemn autograph forgery in a Beatlemania context. If we had distributed only the genuine article, the majority of those folks would have had nothing and would have felt let down. Replicas are a tactful solution. 

    All four Beatles derived genuine pleasure from talking to fans.  Ringo once put it to me like this: "a few minutes on the pavement with a little bunch of fans is worth more to us than half a dozen newspaper reviews." The newspaper columnist doesn't buy his records or his concert tickets. He may be jealous because his girl cuddles Paul's picture, but the fans will tell you truthfully what they think. You know where you stand. If you're going in the wrong direction, they'll tell you. If you take the trouble to listen. By standards set before and since, the Beatles fans were treated generously. 

    Club members received an exclusive chat record with the Beatles, made specially for the purpose each Christmas. When I introduced this idea, it was unique. At the group's request, I wrote scripts for the first ones, but they just kept these beside them in the studio, like Linus's blanket, for emergency use. Their own ad-libs, when pruned of indelicate expletives, were much more entertaining than anything they might have read out. The fan club Christmas records, flimsy seven-inchers, which look like the discs sent out these days by Reader's Digest to promote their record compilations, have been valuable collectors' items. A clean copy of the first year's record, sent out to Beatles people in December 1963, is worth about £40. A set of six from consecutive years can fetch well over £100. If, on the other hand, you are in the market for Beatles autographs, be advised to purchase cautiously unless you're really after an Aspinall original that is.

The Four Lads

 

Something was happing in Shrewsbury

 

Beatles head on a stick

Photo by George Harrison 

 

Press Conference 1966

Photo by Scotty Scotese 

 

Beatles with Maureen

 

Wearing the famed Shea jackets

 ...only no one was calling them the "Shea jackets" when they appeared at the NME Awards concert in 1965.  

Love the Beatles With All my Heart

 

Teen Life's Bess Coleman Asks the Beatles Intimate Questions (1966)

 

TL's Bess Coleman Asks the Beatles Intimate Questions

By Bess Coleman

Teen Life

January 1967

If you could spend three weeks living alongside the Beatles and had a chance to ask them any question you wanted to, what would you ask them? I bet you could think of 100 things.  Lucky old me did travel with them on their last tour, and during my conversations with John, George, Paul, and Ringo, I tried to ask them the kind of questions you've been wanting to know the answers to. 

Here it goes.

 Ringo first.

 Bess:  Ringo, what kind of hobbies do you have? 

Ringo:  Well, at home is the only place I have time to have hobbies. I still like collecting records and watching films on television. I've sort of gotten back onto the camera kick again. I take photos of Maureen and Zak at home,  and also when we're away on tours. I also like playing around with my tape recorders. I record anything: records, talking, shouting to myself, things like that.

 Bess:  There's a rumor going round that you'd like to become a DJ and have your own show.

 Ringo: Ah ha! Well, you know what rumors are. It's a funny thing. I did try to do a DJ show at home one day, and it's very hard, folks. I don't know how they do it. I had trouble putting the records on at the right time, and I couldn't get any good intros or groovy sayings. I also tried to talk with a mid-Atlantic accent because most DJs have a mid-Atlantic voice, I find, but that didn't work either. I just ended up sounding like I came from South Yorkshire!  Then I'd get so interested in the record I was playing that I'd forget to take it off and introduce another record, and I just got all twisted up in the end. So there's no truth in the rumor. I just did it for fun on my own, and besides that, no station would have me. I'd ruin them in five minutes!

Bess:  What do you want for Zak? 

Ringo:  It's too early and difficult to start thinking about his future. I haven't worked it out yet. I just hope he's going to be okay. I just want him to have a straightforward education, and if he does well, he does well. I don't want to push him into anything. He's got to push himself if he wants to. If he wants to go into showbiz, that's up to him. But I'm not going to say, "Come on, get on those drums."

 Bess:  Do you think you've improved as a drummer since the Beatles really became famous? 

Ringo: No, not really, but that's because I never practice. I just can't practice. But I progressed on records. I've had to because our music has progressed. I don't think I progressed stage-wise because when we're doing a concert, the only thing that I really think about is hitting the drums as hard as I can, so that the others can hear me above the noise of the amps. In live shows, I'm strictly an offbeat man. I don't play anything fancy, no breaks or anything like that. I just keep the offbeat going because that's the way they want it mainly. They need me to keep them going, 

Bess:  What question do you get asked the most?

 Ringo:  Questions like "How much money do you have?" and things like that, which is a drag because I don't know anyway.

 Bess: Would you like a large family?

 Ringo:  Well, I'm not planning anything. If it happens, it happens. I think if we did have another baby, I'd like a boy again. They're less trouble and more fun for me.

 George has become quite a deep thinker in his old age.

 Bess:  George, all four of you seem to have changed in the two years since I last saw you, but you in particular- why?

 George:  Well, we used to be asked a lot of stupid questions, and we just gave idiotic answers back, because it would have been silly to try and answer them seriously. Now I'm too busy for idiotic questions, but if people want to talk to me about the truth or something sensible, then I'll talk to them.

 Bess: What do you like to talk about?

 George:  Finding out what it's all about. I don't mean what the Beatles are about, and it's amazing because the more you find out about it, the more there is to be found out.  The more you know, the better your capacity is to take whatever more there is. To me, life is just a game from the day you're born till the day you die, and people just have to work it out. It's a shame that most of them can't see past their own egos.

 Bess:  You've told me that you spend a lot of time studying philosophy and Eastern religion. Have you ever thought about changing your religion?

 George: Well, what is religion? To me, it's loving people and trying to lead a good life. All religions teach this, but there are different names attached to them: Buddhism, Christianity, Mohammedanism. When you boil it down, they all teach the same basics. At least I think so. 

Bess: How has being married to Pattie changed you?

 George: It's given me the opportunity to settle down a bit as a person, which is what I wanted until I was married. Well, it's funny, people are always looking at bachelors as ones who are leaping about having a laugh and a shout, but Pattie and I always had a laugh and a shout together before we were married. Marriage just quieted me down. I don't know why it just happened. It was kind of a natural thing. I don't go to clubs and discotheques anymore. I just can't be bothered with all that stuff now.

 Bess: Of all the things you've done so far, what has given you the most satisfaction, personally and professionally?

 George: That's a very hard question to answer. I get satisfaction out of certain things at certain times, and being satisfied at various times are things we are doing or have done. There really isn't one that is better than the other. I felt very satisfied after we recorded some of the tracks for our Revolver album. At the time, that was, but now I'm not satisfied. But then I never am. Now I think that, in my estimation, not one of the tracks is as good as it could have been. If you stop listening to all the good things and start listening to the bad things, you want to rectify them, and that's what we'll try to do on the next album. But it will never be perfect for us because I don't think anyone can ever achieve perfection because there's always something else. 

Bess:  Now that you've learned to play the sitar, are you going to try and learn any more instruments?

 George: Although I sort of play the sitar, I certainly haven't mastered it. Neither has Ravi Shankar, and he's been playing it for 35 years!

Bess:  How often do the Beatles rehearse together?

 George:  To be honest, we don't rehearse a lot. We just rehearse before we go away on tour; it depends. We rehearse more naturally if we're going away because we usually forget all the old songs. In fact, after we've recorded a song, we forget about it until we have to do it on stage. Then we have to learn it again, like we learned it when we recorded it. 

Bess: What are your feelings when you go home to Liverpool?

 George: The last time I was in Liverpool, I drove around the place I've lived for 10 years, and I just couldn't believe it. I went through a lot of emotions and feelings. As soon as I got there, I wanted to get back out again. Everything I could remember about it wasn't very nice. Just seeing the same people doing the same thing, and not knowing anything else-that's the sad thing about coming from one environment to another and being able to see things clearer; seeing the environment from which you came is very unsatisfactory. I don't mean because they have similar houses or no cost. I do not mean because they have smaller houses or no cars. I mean not knowing what is outside that district or that town. It's sad because people should really know a bit more. They day they die off before even seeing beyond their noses. 

Bess: When you and Pattie have friends around to your house, how do you like to spend an evening?

 George: A part from talking and listening to records, we like to play games. We used to play a lot of Monopoly, but we've gone off that a bit now. Chess is getting popular again. It's definitely in.  Oh yes, we play Buccaneer and another one called Risk. That's rather like life because it's all down to trying to take over the world, which a lot of people are trying to do at this very moment.

 Bess:  Tell me about your house. 

George:  Patty, and I have changed it around a lot since last year. In fact, it's almost totally different now. Some nights I sit about and look at it and say, "This would look better like that, and off I go changing everything around. I do like, I do that all the time. Just before I came away, I took a lot of things out of the house that I got fed up with.

 When talking to Paul, I started off by asking him the question you all want to know the answer to.

 Bess:  Are you going to marry Jane Asher?

 Paul:  Oh well, here we go again. What can I say? Yes, I probably will marry Jane. People have been trying to marry me off for years, and when I do it, I'll let you know.

 Bess: Do you think "Eleanor Rigby" will be another "Yesterday" 

, Paul: No, I don't think so. The only thing that's like "Yesterday" is the fact that there's a lot of violins on it and other stringed instruments, and that's where any similarity ends. It's a completely different type of tune. I personally think it's better than "Yesterday," but I sang "Yesterday" much better."

     Bess : We ran a story in Teen Life about you buying a farm in Scotland. Why there?

 Paul:  I wanted a remote spot because if you're going to get a place only a few minutes out of London, there's not really much difference. But going to Scotland, well, that's a completely different scene. I hear it gets snowed up in the winter, and I can't wait for that. 

Bess: Tell me about the farm. What is it like?

 Paul:  It's a sheep farm, but at the moment I've got a few cattle as well. I'd like to get a farm manager and then build a house of my own on the property." Then he can get on with what he's doing and run the farm because I know I couldn't. It's a bit too much work. The farmhouse itself isn't very big. I've got about three bedrooms. It's old and it's very nice. I can't tell you much more about it because I've only been there once, and the visit only lasted one hour. That's when I went to buy it, I won't go up there until 1967. Though I've just gotten a house in London, which is now my home, so I'm leaving the farm until I get my house sorted out. That's good though. It gives me something to sort out in the future.

 Bess:  Have you ever thought of writing songs with anyone else besides John Lennon?

 Paul:  Not really. I think I'd probably be able to write with people like John Sebastian of the Lovin' Spoonful or Mick and Keith of the Rolling Stones. I don't think it would be any harder, but I've never tried. No, I don't think that will ever happen. It's much easier to write with someone I know as well as John. 

Bess: Is money important to you? 

Paul:  It's not as important to me now as it was when I didn't have it. When you got it, there are other things which are more important. 

Bess:  Do you like your own movies? Have you any personal criticisms about Help! and Hard Day's Night?

Paul:  Plenty. I liked A Hard Day's Night better than Help! I think it was a better film. In Help!, we did something I don't think we should have tried to do. We tried to get an epic on location, a sort of "blue skies" film. I don't think we should really have tried that. It did okay, and it wasn't that bad. But I think it was in the wrong direction. It probably was a step back instead of a step forward. 

John and I talked about a variety of subjects. 

Bess: What is your definition of the word happiness?

 John:  I don't think anyone can really define that word. Perhaps it's a cuddly cat, a brown bear, and a plate of cornflakes. Happiness is just how you feel when you don't feel miserable. Sometimes it can be being on a deserted beach or walking alone in a forest. I can be happy anywhere, and there's no one particular thing that makes me happy. I don't think you know what happiness is until you're unhappy.

 Bess: I know you like to read a lot. Who are your favorite authors? 

John:  I haven't any really. I just read everything and anything I can get my hands on. There are very few authors' names I can remember. I keep all the books I like or have influence on me, so I don't have to remember names or titles to tell everybody what I read. I've got them in the house. I can't remember what they are, but I know where they are and what they said. 

Bess: What qualities do you look for in a real friend? 

John:  I don't look for anything. Friends are friends. You find friends. The rest are just nice people or just people. Sometimes you'll get a con man who professes to be a friend, but that kind of relationship doesn't last. If someone comes in and does a quick con, so what? That's his life. I've never felt I've been conned really badly. A few people have conned me into thinking that they're different from what they really are, but in turn, I've conned a few people into believing that I'm different from what I really am, so it can work both ways. 

Bess: When it was announced you were going to appear in a film without the other three, rumors immediately started that this was the beginning of the end of the group, and that you would be the first to leave. 

John: Well, I suppose it was only to be expected that people would start saying that, but it's not true. What happened was that Dick Lester rang me up and asked me if I wanted to be in this film of his. It was called How I Won the War, which is about the Second World War. He said that there was a part in it, which was very nice and would suit me. Somebody called Private Gripweed, so I said, "All right", and that was it. I never seriously think about becoming an actor. I wouldn't stand a chance. 

Bess: Do you ever regret being a Beatle, John?

John/:  Sometimes. Obviously, there are times when we're on tour that we'd love to escape from our hotel and get out, but we hardly ever can, and we've accepted that, but there are a lot of places we want to see, but God willing, we can see them when we're older. 

Bess: When you were on tour, George cut your hair for you. Does he usually cut it? And do you ever cut the other boys' hair?

 John: Well, I usually let whoever's around cut it for me. This time it was George, but when I'm at home, Cyn cuts it for me. As for me cutting their hair, well, I cut George's years back when we were in Germany, but I couldn't get it right, and it ended up with him looking as though he'd got ringworm. I haven't bothered since. 

Bess:  What does Sen usually do when you're away?

John:  She usually goes away, as she doesn't like just staying around in the house. But this time, she stayed at home in case I called

Remote Indian Tribe Wild About the Beatles (1966)

 

Remote Indian Tribe Wild About The Beatles 

By Copley New Service

Rio De Janerio

September 23, 1966

    The influence of the Beatles' music has gone just about as far as it can go. While worried mothers across the world wonder what influence it is having on their children, worried officials of the Brazilian Indian Protection Service are wondering what final effects it will have on the Maxacali Tribe.

     The Indians live on an isolated, thickly grown area in the interior state of Minas Gerais. They were only discovered and "pacified" a generation ago, but they have always been interesting to scientists of Indianology because of their customs. They have a different way of considering the hereafter, a different way of organizing their family relations, and their language varies so much from other Indians of the same area-- to be almost a separate dialect. 

    The tribe is dwindling. The present population is estimated at about 115 persons. This makes it all the more urgent for scientists to record all they can on these unusual people. It has increased the Indian Protective Services' determination to keep the tribe pure and apart from the influence of civilization, but it hadn't counted on the Beatles.

     Recently, a tourist came to the tribe, and the braves were amazed to see a small black box that produced voices and sounds with just the flick of a finger. Some thought it was a way for jungle spirits to communicate with them. They especially liked the music. The ye-ye-ye was given a top rating. Beethoven and Brahms failed to move them. Frank Sinatra fared only a little better, but when the stomping, shouting, twanging of the Beatles came out of the little box, the whole tribe started dancing.

     When it came time to leave the village, the Indians didn't want to let the radio go. There was much discussion back and forth. The visitor finally agreed to trade his transistor radio for a collection of bows and arrows and some ceramic pots.

     The next time the Indian Protection Service men showed up with their tape recorders and their notebooks, they were appalled to find that the Indians were thumping out a Beatle beat on the tribe's five drums. The prayers for harvest and good hunting now sound like something from the soundtrack of "Help"; the solemn chants and mournful pace of the funeral rites have been replaced by a jazzed-up version that could very well wake the dead.

Meeting more Good Guys

 

What a crowd!

Photo taken by Bran Epstein 

 

There is so much to see in this photo!  The Beatles are all there --- but look who is waiting to greet them!  I spot photographers, reporters (one actively interviewing someone), a full brass band, Beatles fans and just other onlookers.  Do you spot anything different?

Toronto P.C.

 

£11-16s a Minute for Beatles in U.S. (1966)

 

£11-16s a Minute for Beatles in U.S.

No writer listed

Lancashire Telegraph

August 31, 1966

    The Beatles, unbloodied and unbowed, flew into London Airport today after another grueling American tour. They all had one thing in mind: sleep. Of their three-week tour and their fourth in America, Paul McCartney said, "We had a good time, but it was very tiring." Did the Americans still love the Beatles? "I think so," he replied.

     John Lennon was asked about their rating in light of the tour. Declared, "Look at the charts. That's a silly question."

     During the tour, the quartet earned $1,000,00.  That's £11 16s a minute! Questioned about his so-called antichrist remark, John's reply was drowned in a background of screams. Paul, the only Beatle bachelor, denied that he was getting married. "No, no, no,"he said, waving his arms. "That was a publicity stunt dreamed up by the Americans." Ringo Starr commented, "It's great to be back."

     About 250 screaming girl fans on the balcony of the Queen's building were waiting to give the Beatles their usual noisy welcome. While the Beatles' Pan American Airliner was over the Atlantic, about 100 fans had spent the night at the airport dodging the police. Police ordered fans to take out one banner, which had "Thank Christ, you are home safely." But there was the usual cry of welcoming banners, posters, streamers, and balloons. One banner stated, "Success is Beatle-shaped."

     A strong squad of police was on duty as the Beatles arrived. They were insuperable. They had seen it all before. First out of the car when they arrived for a customs check was Paul wearing a blue striped jacket, black trousers, and a red carnation. He was followed by John, who had a white suit and sunglasses. Ringo was dressed in a white jacket and black trousers and sporting a red carnation. George Harrison, the quiet one, wore a black velvet suit. 

    After passing through customs, the Beatles were hurried into waiting cars. John, George, and Ringo were in a black Rolls-Royce, and Paul was in his own chauffeur-driven green Aston Martin. They waved cheerfully to the excited fans. Then they drove off with the drama-topped tour behind them to the well-earned rest

Jim Marshall's backstage photos

All photos taken by Jim Marshall 

 

A different angle

 We have seen lots of photographs of the Beatles making this promo for A Hard Day's Night while sitting in baby prams, but I don't recall ever seeing it from this angle.  It is interesting to see the other people standing in the background. 

Rocking in Spain

 

Yea Yea Yea They are Here for Concert (1966 Los Angeles

 

Yea Yea Yea: They Are Here For Concert

By Ken Lubas

The Van Nuys News

August 26, 1966

    "Hot" best describes the day, and "frantic" denotes the atmosphere as crowds surged about the Capitol Record Tower in Hollywood last Wednesday evening, awaiting the arrival of rock and roll's young kings, the Beatles. Youngsters and oldsters alike awaited the opportunity to catch a glimpse, and that's all that it was of the shaggy-haired foursome, as the Beatles emerged from the back door of an armored truck and were quickly swept away by security guards to their Hollywood press conference. 

    Revolver, the title for the British foursome's 20th gold record since the Beatles made their U.S. debut in January '64, proved to be the golden word of the evening. Alan W. Livingston, the president of Capitol Records, announced that with the awarding of a gold record for Revolver, their latest album, the Beatles now have a greater number of certified million sellers than any other artist in the history of the Record Industry Association of America. A gold record for a single is given for selling more than 1,000,000 copies. Capitol Record officials estimated the Beatles' separate recordings of either "Yellow Submarine" or "Eleanor Rigby", both on Revolver, will reach the magic mark.

     Sitting before the throng of reporters gathered in the large but, under the circumstances, not too spacious sound studio, Ringo Starr, the drummer, appeared in a blue-and-white polka-dot, high-colored shirt, multicolored sports coat, and blue-and-white striped pants. John Lennon was dressed in a reddish-brown wide-lapel suit and black sweater. Paul McCartney wore white slacks and a gray striped long-sleeve shirt, and George Harrison was in blue jeans, a white silk shirt, and a brown suede jacket.

     Answering questions concerning everything from their latest run-in with religion to future plans, the mopheads flourished their Liverpudlian personalities and aired their views. In reference to the widely quoted article in which Lennon allegedly said the British foursome is more popular than Jesus, Lennon said at the press conference. "I've clarified it about 800 times. I could have said more popular than telly or any other number of things, but they certainly wouldn't have been as good publicity."

     McCartney said bigots took it (the remark) up. He feels the bigots understood the statement to mean, "Ah, he's bound to be arrogant." When asked about reports of Beatles' record burnings, Lennon said Pictures he had seen showed "middle-aged disc jockeys and 12-year-olds burning a bunch of LP covers."

     When asked if they thought all the publicity hurt their image, all agreed."Our image is what we read in the newspaper." Elaborating on the subject, McCartney said, "We know our real image, which is nothing like our picture image."

     Turning to the subject of their expected money from the current American tour. The Beatles don't have time to worry about such matters, Lennon said, "If we worried about it, we'd be nervous wrecks."

     About future plans, the group is considering a script for a new movie, but couldn't give any details of pending production. Lennon explained his appearance in the movie How I Won the War came about while he was alone on a holiday. "They just asked me, and I said yes." When asked what his favorite American singing groups were, Lennon said the Byrds, the Mamas and the Papas, and the Lovin' Spoonful. 

    Starr explained to disappointed reporters that he doesn't carry pictures of his baby in his wallet, or any other pictures for that matter. Harrison, the quiet Beatle, was overshadowed by his counterparts during the meet. 

'    When earlier asked about politics, Lennon said, "Politics? They have no message for me, nor for any of us. I haven't got much time for politicians. I've never bothered to vote. The bomb? Nuclear disarmament? Well, like everyone else, I don't want to end up a festering heap, but I don't stay up nights worrying. I'm preoccupied with my life, not death."

     The Beatles, who were in Southern California for a performance at Dodger Stadium Sunday evening, said their most disappointing tour was in Manila, Philippines, last month, where they were booed as they left the islands.

    Following the conference, the Beatles, surrounded by security guards, bounded for the nearby armored truck and were mobbed by about 500 hysterical teenage girls. Guards surrounded the truck, and once their valuable cargo was safely enclosed, they rode through the Capitol parking lot on the rear and front bumpers to prevent the girls from hanging on. As the vehicle departed into the sunset, heading toward the Hollywood Hills, many of the excited youths leaped onto motorcycles to follow the group back to their residence there.