The Beatles in November: Game Changer!

Jude is the author of The John Lennon Series: https://www.johnlennonseries.com

Certain seasons consistently inspire us, sweep us off our feet, or bless us immeasurably. The patterns of our lives are etched as we return, time and again, to that happy collection of weeks or months in which we feel that we’re at our very best. Some people blossom in autumn’s slanting light, chilly afternoons, and radiant foliage. Others shine in summer’s sand and sun. Some find peace in spring’s gentle, sea-green rebirth. But for The Beatles, it was November — winter’s brisk onset — that always spiraled them to new heights! Let’s take a look:

9 November 1961 – Mr. Epstein Comes to the Cavern Club

Accompanied by his assistant, Alistair Taylor, dapper 27-year-old North End Music Store manager, Brian Epstein, arrived at Mathew Street’s raucous, underground Cavern Club for the lunchtime session. Feeling nervous and out of place, Epstein pushed jitters aside, to see the much-discussed band, The Beatles. For months, he’d seen John Lennon’s “Beatcomber” column in Mersey Beat, right next to his own “Record Releases” column, and the boys’ offbeat wit had intrigued him. Brian had even visited Editor, Bill Harry, at the Mersey Beat office on Renshaw Street, Liverpool, to discuss Lennon and his group. But when a young NEMS customer named Raymond Jones (and later that afternoon, two teenage girls) had requested the new record, “My Bonnie,” by The Beatles,* Brian had decided to see the group for himself. The Cavern excursion was not in vain. Planning to stay only for the first set of the afternoon, Epstein became intrigued with the charismatic, lively, and talented lads who not only sang incomparably but also gave their all to mach shau. During a break, Brian approached George Harrison about getting a copy of “My Bonnie,” and speaking to the group as a whole, Epstein proposed a meeting in the days ahead, with an eye to management of the band. As we all know, the rest is history! What a landmark November day it was! And as John would later wryly point out — of course, it occurred on the NINTH!

*Actually, the record was by Tony Sheridan and The Beat Brothers

4 November 1963 – The Beatles at the Royal Command Performance

In October 1963, The Beatles had taken the boards for Sunday Night at the Palladium, and they’d thought it was the greatest honor they could achieve! Now, however, they’d been included in the roster for The Royal Command Performance (a.k.a. The Royal Variety Show)! John, was a bit reticent about performing for “suits,” the “very sort I’ve always sought to avoid.” But the other three Beatles were elated. Appearing as the 7^th act on a 19-act bill, the boys were to perform four songs: “From Me to You,” “She Loves You,” “Till There Was You,” and “Twist and Shout.” John — taking the mickey out of the nervous-as-a-cat Brian Epstein — had threatened to announce the final song with this irreverent introduction: “For our last number, I’d like to ask your help. The people in the cheaper seats, clap your hands. And the rest of you, if you’d just rattle your f******* jewelry!” But after watching Brian dissolve into tears over the brazen suggestion, John modified the intro a bit, with (as they say) the offending “expletive deleted.” Even so, Lennon’s cheeky comment made a statement. John had taken the stage with his brothers for camaraderie’s sake, but he’d still found a way to announce his independence from conformity. The show itself was Beatle-brilliant, and the lads were invited back every single year that they were together. But each year, partially in deference to John, The Beatles very politely declined. That November 1963 night, however, with Princess Margaret and the Queen Mother looking on, four lads from “the uncultured North, Liverpool” shone as stars unequalled and made British entertainment history.

9 November 1966 – John meets Yoko Ono at the Indica Gallery

John Lennon had once admitted to his friend, journalist Maureen Cleave, that being in The Beatles wasn’t his “end all, be all.” He said, “You see, there’s something else I’m going to do, something I must do — only I don’t know what it is. That’s why I go around painting and taping and drawing and writing and that, because it may be one of them. All I know is, this isn’t it for me.” (“How Does a Beatle Live? London Evening Standard, 4 March 1966) John was forever searching for significance. But he seemed to find his heart’s home on 9 November 1966, when he attended the private, pre-show for “Unfinished Paintings and Objects,” the work of Japanese avant garde artist, Yoko Ono. Strolling through London’s Indica Art Gallery, John was bowled over by Ono’s “outside the box” style and humour — a style that very much reminded him of his quirky, clever mother, Julia Stanley Lennon. And when John talked with the petite, soft-spoken artist, he found Ono as interesting as her work. It was the beginning of a romance that would transform John’s life. Over the next few years, his ideas would drastically alter. John would become different altogether (now) thanks to this one remarkable November night. (And it was also on the ninth!)

John Lennon fans, please note: In the ancient world, November was the ninth month of the calendar of Romulus, c. 750 BC. When January and February were added to the Roman calendar, November retained its name (from the Latin novem, meaning “nine”). No wonder this month was so life-changing for The Beatles!

We often scurry through November to get to the glittering joys that December holds, but the eleventh month – as The Beatles teach us here – holds remarkable enchantment of its own. Take time to enjoy bonfires, changing leaves, Thanksgiving, walks in the chill, roasted marshmallows and chestnuts – the vivid sights and sounds that accompany first frost. Be aware. Be open to possibility. November undoubtedly “loomed large in The Beatles’ legend.” Perhaps November has a bit of magic to share with you as well!

The Beatles in October: Harvest Home

By Jude Southerland Kessler

“Come ye thankful people, come

Raise a song of harvest home,

All is safely gathered in,

Ere the winter storms begin.”

In 1844, songwriter Henry Alford penned these grateful words, as the dog days of summer curled up contentedly, basking in the beauty of autumn. With winter fast approaching, Alford urged us to seize these brilliant, multi-colored days as celebrations of the fruits of our spring and summer labors. And in their Octobers together, The Beatles did just that! They used October as a month to relax a bit, accept great honors, and take stock of all they’d accomplished before the demanding days of winter were upon them. Let’s share their joys:

October 1961 – Enjoying the money that John’s Auntie “Mater” (Elizabeth) had gifted John for his twenty-first birthday, John and Paul (without saying a word to Pete and George) hied away to Paris for a 14-day spontaneous holiday. Stu (still in Hamburg) had hinted broadly that he would meet them there, and that was all the impetus John needed to break away to the Continent. Unfortunately, Stu found himself too ill to travel, and John was deeply, bitterly disappointed. However, their friend, Jürgen Vollmer, met Lennon and McCartney in “The City of Lights,” and the trio partied as heavily as a 21^st birthday deserved. Somewhere amidst the carousing, Volmer influenced the two Beatles to imitate his hairstyle, a rather Edwardian “bowl” cut. Then, during the return trip to Liverpool, the duo stopped off at Anello and Davide in Charing Cross, London, to purchase Cuban-heeled, pointed-toe boots. Returning just in time for a gig at The Casbah, the relaxed John and Paul refused to be shamed for their outing and introduced the others to their innovative, new look. Within days, George wore the “Beatle cut” as well…and both Pete and George parted with the last of their cash for those trendy leather boots. Refreshed and refurbished, The Beatles headed into winter.

October 1963 – Sunday Night at the London Palladium was England’s Ed Sullivan Show. The ATV Television program was the British litmus test, indicating that an entertainer had finally “made the grade.” Growing up, Ringo had heard his mother’s best friend, Annie Maguire, repeat over and over, “Play the Palladium…and die!” The drummer had always seen it as his country’s highest achievement award. Now, he and his mates were about to step onto those legendary boards! As he vomited into a backstage bucket, Ringo thought of all the stars he’d seen standing right where he was about to perform: Judy Garland, Nat King Cole, Elizabeth Taylor, Bob Hope, and Cliff Richard and The Shadows. This magical moment was, for the boy from the Dingle, the greatest “welcome to the big-time” party one could have. Though he was slated to play The Royal Command Performance in only three weeks, for Richard Starkey, this was the “toppermost of the poppermost.” Tonight, his labors had finally reaped reward.

October 1965 – Decked in morning-coat finery, John, Paul, George, and Ringo were off to Buckingham Palace — along with 178 other nominees — to receive the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, the MBE. Their car cautiously navigated through the largest crowd ever assembled for any royal occasion (including the Queen’s coronation) towards the formal and highly-choreographed event. John was so overwhelmed by the experience that when the Queen asked about The Beatles’ current endeavors, he couldn’t find an answer and blathered that they’d been off on holiday. Not until the four boys arrived in Saville Theatre, where their press conference was to take place, did the four musicians find their voices. Years later, John would avow that he never desired the MBE and had only accepted it because it was “in our best interests,” but on this bright October morning, The Beatles were tongue-tied at the great honor and gratified for the recognition of their talent and hard work.

October 1967 – With his work completed on Dick Lester’s latest film, “Private Gripweed” (a.k.a. John Lennon), along with his three mates, The Beatles — and their lovely ladies — strode into the star-studded London Premiere of “How I Won the War.” The film was one of John’s first solo sorties from “the collective,” a practice that all four Beatles would increasingly enjoy, over the next two years. John was quite nervous about both critical and public reaction to the work. But by the time that the Fab Four Couples viewed the film and headed to their favorite West End clubs, the group was awash in giggles and grins. Riding in a vintage Hispano-Suiza, they were ready to party as only Liverpudlians can. They fêted a project well-done and looked ahead to the bright lights that would continue to shine on.

The Beatles always lived up to the weathered maxim that “a job worth doing is worth doing well.” Indeed, they worked as did no other group in the industry. But the boys played hard, too. In the 1970s, John famously quipped, “Time you enjoyed wasting was not wasted.” And in their Octobers together, as they harvested laurels from their endeavors, The Beatles saw not a thing amiss with celebrating and pausing, now and again, merely to have fun.

The Beatles in September

By Jude Southerland Kessler

In 1961, Hayley Mills starred in the film, “The Parent Trap,” whose theme song employed a catch-phrase, soon to be echoed by our own Fab Four, in 1963. In the Disney film, twin daughters (both played by Mills) scheme to see that their estranged parents will try to “get together, yeah, yeah, yeah!”. Of course, by the end of that production, the twins (and the clever screenwriters) achieved a happy ending. The parents were remarried; the girls, reunited, and the phrase “yeah, yeah, yeah” was fondly ingrained in our memories. But all “triple-yeahs” aside, there is a more important link between The Beatles and “The Parent Trap” theme song…that being, of course, togetherness.

In The Anthology, John Lennon wrote: “Once upon a time, there were three little boys called John, Paul, and George, by name christened. They decided to get together, because they were the getting together type. When they were all together, they wondered what for, after all, what for? So, all of a sudden, they all got guitars and formed a noise.”

Indeed, being together was the very essence of The Beatles. And each September that they experienced as a group found them reuniting to tour, to record, “to form a noise,” and to have fun doing it. Let’s look back on some of those precious moments.

September 1960 – The Beatles in Hamburg for the first time

After hounding Liverpool’s charismatic impresario and Jacaranda Coffee House owner, Allan Williams, to get them a gig in Hamburg, Germany, The Beatles were finally on their way to the port city’s bright lights. Unbeknownst to Williams, his boys were booked on “the dark end of the Reeperbahn” in a seedy strip club called The Indra. But in only weeks, the hardworking Beatles had transformed the vacant dive into a hot spot, and they were promoted to the burgeoning Kaiserkeller. Sharing the boards in “the ’Keller” with Rory Storm and the Hurricanes (and their suave, gregarious drummer, Ringo Starr), The Beatles quickly adopted a vast catalogue of new music and learned how to mach shau…put on a show! By the time John, Paul, George, and Pete returned Merseyside in the winter of 1960, they were a highly-honed stage band. Together, they had become, as Neil Aspinall would call soon them, The Fabulous Beatles.

September 1962 – The Beatles in EMI recording “Love Me Do”

Having very recently acquired cool Ringo Starr as their new drummer, September 1962 found The Beatles hard at work in London’s EMI Studios, trying to earn “the break of a lifetime.” They had traveled to “The Smoke” (London) to record their first real record. And although accomplished producer, George Martin, wanted the skinny Liverpool boys to perform the Tin Pan Alley song, “How Do You Do It?”, The Beatles were dead set on “Love Me Do.” Assuring Martin that they “could not return to Liverpool” having recorded “How Do You Do It?” without being laughed off the quay, The Beatles stuck to their guns. However, the original number — that featured John Lennon on mouth organ and lyrics — was tricky. “You simply can’t play the harmonica and sing as well, John,” Martin had objected. “It will come out as “Love Me…Wahhh.” So, reluctantly, Paul McCartney assumed the lead vocal role. And “ta-dah!!!” Only four weeks later, “Love Me Do” rocketed to Number 17! Not bad for a first-time session with a new drummer, a new producer, and a new studio. Getting together equaled a brand-new sound!

September 1964 – First North American Tour

Chuck Gunderson in Some Fun Tonight: The Backstage Story of How The Beatles Rocked America: The Historic Tours of 1964-1966 said it best: On the 1964 North American Tour “…The Beatles would play a staggering thirty-two shows in twenty-six venues in twenty-four cities in just thirty-three days.” (p. 14) Talk about togetherness! And ah, the memories they made! They sang goose-bumpy harmony in the shimmering amphitheater of the Hollywood Bowl. They echoed over the rugged landscape around Red Rocks. They brought mayhem to Montreal and the New Orleans City Park. They diverted around Hurricane Dora and discovered new friends down in Key West. And unexpectedly, they gave Kansas City a raucous medley that furnished the “two extra songs” Charlie O. Finley craved. Gunderson writes, “No musical act before or since will ever rival The Beatles on their incredible groundbreaking tour of 1964. John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr not only would leave an indelible impression on their fans in the United States and Canada, but would leave the fans hungering for more in 1965.” (p. 14) And they did it all, together.

September 1967 – The Making of Magical Mystery Tour

Magical Mystery Tour was, for John, Paul, George, and Ringo, a crucial restorative process. In the aftermath of Brian Epstein’s tragic death, it gave them “a way forward.” It was a project to bind them —one to another — to employ their talents and creativity, and to keep them close together, both physically and in spirit. According to our Beatles Guru, Mark Lewisohn in The Complete Beatles Chronicle, the Magical Mystery Tour recording sessions commenced on 5 September with the 7.00 p.m. – 1.00 a.m. EMI Studio One recording of “John’s glorious ‘I Am the Walrus’” (p. 261). And the grand filming event began on 11 September and concluded 24 Sept 1967. Throughout this grief-laden month, the necessity of rising each morning and being productive each day, whilst surrounded by dear friends (Freda Kelly, Neil and Mal, Victor Spinetti, etc.) helped to assuage The Beatles’ pain and to focus their energies on what would be rather than what had been.

No clearer example of “We’re Better Together” can be given to us than The Beatles in their shared Septembers. Despite worldwide pandemics, economic crises, and fiery political divisions, we need to reach out to one another and seek bonds not barriers. September is a month for finding our own harmony, our own new horizons, and our own way forward. Together the boys always found a way to shine on…and so can we.

To hear the adorable song “Let’s Get Together, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!” performed by Haley Mills and her double, Haley Mills for “The Parent Trap,” go here.

Genius Having Fun: The Beatles in March

By Danny Abriano

::: By Jude Southerland Kessler ::: Spring brings out childlike wonder and joy in all of us. We walk into the sunlight and marvel at exotic Japanese magnolia blossoms brashly defying winter’s last ice storms. We gasp in delight over surprising fields of yellow daffodils. We search for four-leaf clovers but find our truest fortune in the re-energized work we do, now that dark days have become light and fresh again. The Beatles felt this. In five March calendars together, they were especially creative. They starred in films, wrote books, appeared on radio and television programs, and of course, created magical music that still plays in our homes and falls from the lips of our children and grandchildren. Invigorated each spring, The Beatles tended to greet March with an enthusiasm that found its way into archetypal creativity. For example… March 1963…Fresh off the Helen Shapiro Tour (which had run from 2 February – 3 March), the boys gathered in EMI’s Studio Two on Tuesday, 5 March, to record the jaunty, “From Me to You,” a song that had been inspired by a newspaper column which John and Paul had spotted on the Shapiro tour bus. In studio, the ever-brilliant George Martin gave the number a very singular sound when he recommended that the boys sing rather than play the song’s “da-da-dum-da-da-dum-dum-da” intro. But “From Me to You,” wasn’t the only product of that creative date. The lads also recorded “Thank You, Girl” and “The One After 909.” “From Me to You,” however, was clearly the stand-out. An instant hit, it was throughout 1963, an important part of the lads’ catalogue. In fact, it was the opening song the night that The Beatles “rattled jewelry” at the Royal Command Performance, six months later. March 1964…The Beatles began making their first film for United Artists, “A Hard Day’s Night” on Monday, 2 March 1964. Now, one would think that making a full-length feature movie and creating the soundtrack LP would be task-enough for John, Paul, George, and Ringo, but throughout the month, they were busy here, there, and everywhere. On the 19^th, for example, they spent their lunch hour at London’s Royal Dorchester Hotel receiving the Variety Club Silver Heart award for “Top Show Business Personalities of 1963,” an honor presented to them by Prime Minister Harold Wilson. And that night, instead of going home when the other actors called it quits, they hurried to tape an appearance on Britain’s #1 pop TV show, Top of the Pops. The very next evening (in their spare time, after filming), the boys performed on the hit television programme, Ready, Steady, Go! (Deep Breath!!!) And of course, in addition to all of this, John Lennon also released his first book, a volume of prose and poetry entitled In His Own Write. What can I say? The Beatles’ well-lauded creativity was, in March 1964, both on and off-the-charts! March 1965…Again, it was film-making season for the Fabs, but this time, in ’65, the United Artists’ film was “Eight Arms to Hold You,” eventually dubbed “Help!”. First, filming in Nassau for a fortnight, the boys flew home on the 10^th, only to regenerate quickly and head out once again. Three days later, accompanied by newlywed, Maureen Starkey, and John’s wife, Cynthia, the boys were en route to Austria. During their time in the breathtaking Alps, John completed an extremely biographical song he’d begun at Kenwood, a number entitled “It’s Only Love.” Depicting his increasingly rocky relationship with Cynthia, this offering revealed so much of John’s vulnerability and tenderness that ever-after, he despised it. Paul told the press that John rarely let people see his soft side: “I’ve only seen him through the cracks in his shell because the shell is so hard.” But “It’s Only Love” so laid bare John’s love for his wife and their mutual struggles, that in the years to come, John would never have a good word to say about the revelatory song. In emotional and imperfect lyrics, it had too closely captured Lennon’s wounded heart. March 1967…Wearing ponchos, flowered “kecks,” and National Health glasses, the boys were truly in creative heaven, working away in EMI Studios, on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. On 1 and 2 March, they worked for hours on John’s “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” Then, on the 9^th and 10^th, they gave their attention to Paul’s “Getting Better All the Time.” And on the 15^th, they began work on George’s “Within You, Without You.” But in every period of intense, unfettered creativity, there is always an inherent edge and potential danger. And 21 March 1967 was one of those experimental evenings that could have ended tragically. John, having taken LSD for inspiration, was feeling unwell and excused himself from Studio Two. Hoping to help John recover (and oblivious to the reason for John’s discomfort), George Martin followed him out and suggested climbing to the EMI rooftop for fresh air. When, moments later, Paul and George saw Martin return without Lennon and discovered where their friend was recuperating, they tore out after him…realising that the roof had no rails or barriers against a sheer, 30-foot drop to the ground. Fortunately, when they scrambled — breathless — onto the top deck, John was simply standing and staring at the night sky. But the boys were so thoroughly rattled that they concluded their recordings for that evening then and there. Creative inspiration had engendered a close call. March 1968…Out of devotion to his mates, Ringo (and his wife, Maureen) agreed to go along with the others to the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s ashram in Rishikesh, India, for a soul revival. But after only 10 days abroad — hating the “Butlin’s holiday camp” life of the Ashram — the Starkeys gave the others their regrets and flew home. Twenty-five days later, on 26 March, after having worked prodigiously with John on a plethora of songs that would populate the White Album, Paul and Jane Asher flew back to London, accompanied by Neil Aspinall…and leaving only John and Cyn, George and Patti, and Alex Mardas behind. Although this excursion failed to end particularly well (if one knows the backstory of “Sexy Sadie”), March 1968 was undeniably a time of immense creative genius for The Beatles. Having the rare opportunity to rest, talk, write music, and have furtive fun together (when the Maharishi wasn’t looking), the boys created magical songs for the finest LP they’d offered the public in quite some time. Indeed, John alone wrote enough tracks for the White Album to have his own solo LP. The “Leader Beatle,” who had sadly relinquished his role in Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour was back. They all were…in a flood of bright, spring sunlight that blended dramatically into pure White. Albert Einstein once said, “Creativity is genius having fun.” And certainly, no group of people bear this out better than The Beatles. During the March months of their lives, they starred in award-winning films (creatively ad-libbing many of the famous lines), wrote and illustrated books of poetry and prose, composed and recorded music, starred on television and radio programmes, and sought new horizons of faith. But for the lads, ushering music, art, and literature into the world was never a job or a chore! It was always the product of the happiest moments of their lives. And may it be so, this month, with us as well. Shine on!

Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

A Month in the Life

By Danny Abriano

::: By Jude Southerland Kessler :::

“If you have built castles in the air… that is where they should be…now, put the foundations under them.”

Henry David Thoreau

In this second installment of The Fest Blog’s study of The Beatles’ time together, month-by-month, John Lennon Series author, Jude Southerland Kessler, examines what the lads did during 5 fab February’s. As we walk winter’s weeks together, what can we learn from John, Paul, George, and Ringo? And how can that change the course of our own lives?

February 1963 – During one of the coldest U.K. winters on record, the shivering Beatles set out on tour with lovely, little Helen Shapiro, playing dank theatres and music halls in a concerted effort to propel their names and songs to the British public. But on the 11^th, they took one day off from their rigorous schedule to race down to London, where they would record their very first LP, Please Please Me. With brilliant producer George Martin at the helm, alongside engineer, Norman Smith, and second engineer, Richard Langham, the boys — desperately ill with colds and flu — began work around 10 a.m. First, they recorded several fondly familiar songs from their old Cavern Club days. Then, as the morning gave way to afternoon, they tackled original tunes for this LP that Epstein hoped would propel his lads to the top of the charts. In the autumn of 1962, The Beatles had had a hit with “Love Me Do” and a Number 1 with the new LP’s title song, “Please Please Me.” However, to maintain that momentum, now they had to produce a host of songs proving their versatility, creativity, and star power. And they did! In only 12 hours, John, Paul, George, and Ringo produced a record that would stand the test of time. And when, at 10:30 p.m. that night — weary and shaking with fever — John Lennon tackled the performance of “Twist and Shout” for the pot-boiling close of the record, he gave history one of his finest tracks…in only one take! The LP was complete. Never had a group compiled a record of such magnitude in only one day. The Beatles had worked their way into stardom.

February 1964 – Landing at John F. Kennedy Airport to ecstatic screams that eclipsed jet engines, The Beatles stepped onto American soil on 7 February 1964, and began “The British Invasion.” In only two days, they were slated to play The Ed Sullivan Show. And despite the fact that George Harrison had contracted flu, the four “mop-tops from Liverpool” rose to the occasion. On Sunday night, 9 February, they sang into the cameras for the largest television audience in history (at that time), and instantly, their names became both legendary and household. Then, moving rapidly by train to Washington D.C.’s exhilarating Coliseum-in-the-round performance and up to the Big Apple’s fabled boards in Carnegie Hall, The Beatles made history! Without stopping to breathe, they flew on to sunny Miami for two more Sullivan appearances, while wooing the U.S. public via press conferences, interviews, photo opportunities, and phone chats with a plethora American DJ’s. In 14 days, The Beatles did the work of months, and then nearly exhausted, they winged their way back home to begin filming the oh-so-aptly-dubbed “A Hard Day’s Night.”

February 1965 – One thinks of the exotic Bahamas as a vacation locale, but in Feb 1965, The Beatles landed in Nassau to off-the-chart screams for the making of their new United Artists’ film dubbed “Beatles 2” and later, “Eight Arms to Hold You,” and finally, “Help!” Rising daily at 6:30 a.m. for hair and make-up, The Beatles worked on set from 8:00 a.m. to 5:30-6:30 p.m. each day, and in the evenings, frequently gave interviews to journalists such as Larry Kane, Derek Taylor (who, in 1965, was with KRLA, Los Angeles), Long John Wade, and others. John Lennon, additionally, was completing the work on his second collection of prose and poetry, A Spaniard in the Works. Prior to winging their way to the Bahamas, the boys had spent hours recording many of the songs for the film’s soundtrack, but additional work was yet to come. So, taking full advantage of their few nights off, the lads enjoyed a bit of time with Jim and Angie McCartney and their daughter, Ruth, and with George’s sister, Louise — all of whom were on location. As always, however, industry ruled the day. Even in paradise, The Beatles were working.

February 1967 – It wasn’t just another “Day in the Life” when, on 10 February 1967, The Beatles oversaw the orchestral recording of the final bars of the final song of their new LP, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. That evening, 40 classically-trained musicians arrived at EMI Studios, Studio One, to take part in the cataclysmic close to a song that frequently is listed as the best in The Beatles catalogue. Instructing the gifted musicians that he wanted “a musical orgasm,” producer George Martin requested a sound that gradually ascended and intensified before crashing in an E major chord…a sound burst. Throughout February’s weeks, the lads had been working diligently in Studio Two, recording various other songs for the LP (including the title track) and creating videos in Knole Park for their upcoming single, “Penny Lane” and “Strawberry Fields.” But on the 10^th, with Paul McCartney and George Martin alternately conducting the small “Day in the Life” symphony (gathered in what would eventually be known at “Abbey Road Studios”), another musical moment in time was captured forever, compliments of The Beatles.

February 1969 – January had ended with a rooftop concert that was, for all intents and purposes, the swan song of The Beatles. So, February was for all four boys, a time of re-invention. Ringo began work on his new solo project — a film with Peter Sellers entitled “The Magic Christian.” John, knee-deep in various avant garde happenings and recordings with Yoko, took time out to return to London’s Trident Studios to record “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” for what would eventually be the Abbey Road LP. George Harrison, in a bit of personal maintenance, had his tonsils removed at University College Hospital, London, but later in the month, he returned, full-throated, to EMI to record demo tapes of “Something,” “Old Brown Shoe,” and “All Things Must Pass.” Still infuriated by the late-January suggestion by John, Ringo, and George that Allen Klein should manage Apple and 20 percent of their personal incomes, Paul took immediate steps to ensure that the firm of Eastman and Eastman were appointed as Apple’s General Council, carefully supervising Klein’s management. However, Paul and Linda still found time to attend the release party for Mary Hopkins’s first LP (which Paul had produced), Postcard. In February 1969, each of The Beatles was discovering his new métier, and without a moment’s rest from the demands of Beatledom, they were exploring their chosen horizons.

The one quality that always distinguished The Beatles from other groups was their unfailing willingness to get up early, work late, give more than expected, and produce more than anticipated. They were, in short, driven. Their Februarys together bear this theme out, again and again. The Beatles never once shied away from rolling up their custom-made shirtsleeves to build “castles in the air” from rough brick and real mortar. They created enduring edifices by demonstrating to us all that lasting dreams require unflinching dedication and industry.

Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

What The Beatles Found in January

By Danny Abriano

::: By Jude Southerland Kessler :::

Ever kept a five-year diary or calendar? No? Well, if you’d like to (as we used to say in The Sixties) “find yourself,” you might try it. The practice is highly touted by self-help experts and counselors because it helps to reveal trends and patterns we display seasonally, monthly, and even at similar times of the day. Journaling over a decade reveals even more about how we react to light, weather, seasonal stresses, and yearly events. Studying a record of what we do, year-in-and-year-out, highlights so much about our personalities.

Now, The Beatles didn’t journal…well, not that we know of…yet. But their day-by-day actions from 1964-1969 were highly chronicled. And studying their undertakings, month-by-month, is not only interesting, it’s informative. So, throughout 2020, the Fest Blog would like to take you on a month-by-month glance back at some of the most outstanding events of each month during The Beatles’ time together, beginning, of course, with some of The Beatles’ Januarys together.

January 1964…On 16 January, The Beatles endured a rather rough opening night at the Olympia outside Paris. Their amplification equipment failed three times! The audience, comprised mostly of young men (since teenage girls would have required chaperones to attend an evening performance away from home), was yawningly unimpressed and disappointingly unresponsive. John, Paul, George, and Ringo trudged “home” to the Hotel Georges Cinque in an umber mood. But waiting for them was a change of disposition: Brian held a telegram announcing that in the week ahead, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” would chart at Number 1 on the U.S. Cashbook hit list! Utterly phenomenal! And just in the nick of time, too: The Beatles were booked to fly into New York City on 7 February for a three-week tour. Cheering and cavorting, the elated Liverpool lads were filled with hope that soon they’d claim “the toppermost of the poppermost.”

[Note: A long-held legend states that The Beatles had vowed not to appear in the U.S. unless they had secured a Number One, and this good news gave them the “green light” to journey on to The States. Well, the truth is, The Beatles were already booked to appear in America on three Ed Sullivan shows, whether or not the Number 1 slot was attainable. Brian had arranged the trip back in autumn of 1963. So, the Paris telegram was truly a bit of happy serendipity! Good fortune to begin the year.]

January 1965 – John and Cynthia, George Martin and his girlfriend, Judy Lockhart-Smith, flew to St. Moritz, Switzerland for a few days of rest and relaxation, following the close of “Another Beatles Christmas Show” in the Hammersmith Odeon, London. One side goal of the Swiss trek was to give John an opportunity to learn to ski, since in just a few weeks, he would be filming a ski scene for The Beatles’ upcoming United Artists film. All four travelers were excited to hit the slopes with their private ski instructors. But on first night in the hotel, John and George were entertaining the ladies with mad antics, when George fell and broke his foot. For the producer, there would be no happy jaunts on the picturesque Alpine slopes. Not this trip.

The next evening, to amuse Martin and draw him out of the doldrums, John performed two new songs…songs that John had composed for the new film (eventually to be known as “Help!”). The first number was haunting and lovely, but because it was clearly a song about an affair John had had, Martin was unnerved. He felt awful that Cynthia was sitting only a few feet away, chatting with Judy. So, he urged John along to the next composition. This one was fast-paced — a hard-hitter about a girl who was leaving the singer flat. “Ticket to Ride” was, even in its early, unplugged version, incredible. Later, John would call the number “the first heavy song The Beatles ever did.” In fact, he said it was “heavy before there even was heavy!” It would be released on 9 April in the U.K. and go to Number 1 only five days later. This January 1965 composition, born of the desire for greater experimentation and variety in The Beatles’ musical creations, would take them in a new direction.

January 1966 – John had been married since August of 1962, and Ringo since January of 1965. But Paul and George remained eligible bachelors until January of 1966 when George and Patti Boyd said their “I do’s” at the Epsom Register Office in Surrey. In a very brief, 7-minute ceremony, the couple (who had dated since they met on the set of “A Hard Day’s Night” in 1964) became Mr. and Mrs. George Harrison. And full of hope, a new year and a new life began for The Beatle as well as his gorgeous new bride, a former model.

January 1968 – The end of 1967 had left The Beatles deeply despondent. They were mired in Apple’s machinations, and “Magical Mystery Tour” — airing on BBC1 on Boxing Day, 1967 — had disappointed both the public and the press. But in January, George Harrison, who had been in India, working on the music for the film, “Wonderwall,” came home filled with a serene spiritual peace. Certain that he could connect his mates to this new font of inspiration as well, George began to coax them to “at least listen” to “the truth” he had found. Already, seeds were being planted for The Beatles’ February 1968 sojourn to Rishikesh where, in the Ashram of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the four boys would refresh their weary souls, write most of “The White Album,” and return home with renewed energy and creativity for the studio. George had given them hope by reminding them that, as always, the world could not break their spirit.

And so, looking back over the lads’ myriad Januarys together, we find that The Beatles are not so different from you and me.

Hope visited The Fab Four regularly in January, as it comes to us all: a flicker in the dark of winter, a soft whisper that no matter how we’ve failed in the year before, we have a chance to try again: a new world to conquer, a new marriage to tend, a new song to sing, and a newness of soul to seek. Over and over, The Beatles kicked off the year, as we must, in a spirit of optimism — believing that life is doable, if only we can pick ourselves up and start again. They also began in expectation, claiming the year ahead as their own and pledging the determination and hard work to make it so. And so, my dear Fest family…so can we.

Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

An Open Letter to Sir Paul McCartney: Come to the Fest!

By Jude Southerland Kessler

Dear Sir Paul, (although many of us still fondly think of you as Paul, the lad from Allerton)

It was your idea, remember? In 1969, you tried to convince John that The Beatles ought to surprise random audiences and give impromptu concerts at smaller venues. He called the concept “daft.” We think it, genius.

Please…surprise us!!!

Last year, we watched longingly as you played the Philharmonic Pub to that lucky crowd gathered around you (and James Corden). We smiled to see you enjoying “Get (ting) Back” to your roots — to the haunts around The Institute that you know so well. We grinned along with the thrilled, enthusiastic crowd who will most certainly tell their grandchildren about the day they were fortunate to see Paul McCartney in Hope Street.

Please…thrill us!!!

Every one of us shared the priceless photo on social media (and in The Sun) of you riding blissfully along on a U.K. train, checking your texts and reading the newspaper…sitting there casually “in the trenches,” one of us again. To a man, (and a woman), we pretended that we were the providential passenger sitting across the aisle, giving you complete privacy while longing to lean over and whisper, “Just so you know, you changed my life forever.”

Give us that chance.

Please…trust us!!!

The Fest for Beatles Fans is in its 45th year, and for 45 years, we have gathered twice annually (in some years, three and four times) to play your songs, discuss the events of your life in depth, celebrate your new releases, and share our treasured photographs from your concerts. Some of us can boast never missing a Fest for Beatles Fans since its inception. Others are proud to have attended for 15 or 20 consecutive years, and yes, even that “modest” number is an investment of time, money, and devotion. We are fans in the truest sense of the word. No group of people anywhere would be more appreciative or more overcome with joy to welcome you in person.

We think you’d enjoy meeting us as well. A good many of us remember that first Ed Sullivan show. We were there, too…watching…agog. And for us, that night was just the beginning of live concerts, purchased LPs, trips to Liverpool, and a life of devotion.

Others of us are Second Gen fans…schoolteachers and dentists and accountants in our forties. But don’t let our age fool you! We’re no less devoted than the Baby Boomers. In fact, because we were introduced to The Beatles and Wings and “Macca” by our parents, teachers, or slightly older friends, we’ve compensated by becoming intensely passionate fans.

Finally, a huge portion of our Fest Family is comprised of Third Genners…excited and proud to be Beatles and McCartney fans in our teens and twenties. We know the stories just as well as the others do. And fifty years from now, we’ll be the ones telling them to those who will follow.

We are diverse. But demographics aside, Paul, we find that at heart, our Fest Family is very much alike. We subscribe to Beatlefan magazine and Octopus’ Garden fanzine. We listen to podcasts such as “Something About The Beatles” and “Breakfast with The Beatles” and “Beatles Brunch.” We have McCartney and Beatles libraries in our homes. We’ve collected every concert t-shirt you’ve ever printed. In short, we are your people — the ones who would really cherish that incredible moment when you’d suddenly appear on The Fest for Beatles Fans stage and rave across the boards, with a little help from your friends.

This year, the New Jersey Fest for Beatles Fans is set for Friday, 29 March; Saturday, 30 March, and Sunday, 31 March, and you are most cordially invited, Sir Paul. It would, indeed, be the honor of a lifetime to have you there!

We hope to see you in Jersey City at the Hyatt Regency where, thanks to the hard work of Mark and Carol Lapidos, their daughters Michelle Joni and Jessica, and the Fest staff and family, a “splendid time is guaranteed for all.” Having you with us, even for a moment or so, would certainly make it so. It was a great idea in 1969…but it’s an even better one now!

Cryin’, wishin’, hopin’, (your Cavern song!)

Your Fest Fans

P.S. We love you.

Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

Esher You Love It, Or You Don’t

By Jude Southerland Kessler

The Esher Demos, those delightful “unplugged” precursors to The Beatles’ self-titled LP (commonly known as the White Album), were proof positive that Lennon and McCartney had completely different ideas about the way that rock’n’roll should be fashioned.

From Day One, John firmly believed that music should be created extemporaneously — that reworking a piece over and over was “doin’ a thing to death.” John believed that a song’s beauty lay in its imperfection. Paul, on the other hand, thought that a musical composition should be slowly honed and developed…that a recording should be tweaked and re-recorded until the final product was exactly the way the songwriter wanted it. Two concepts. Both viable. 180 out.

Paul, therefore, arrived at George Harrison’s home, Kinfauns, in Esher, England on that day in late May 1968, with a pre-recorded tape of polished offerings for the next album. The songs that Paul played for his friends that chilly afternoon were very similar to the final product he offered listeners via the White Album tracks. Paul changed little in studio because he had worked diligently, (by himself and ahead of time) before he presented his Esher demos to The Beatles.

Not so with John Lennon. John arrived in Kinfauns with the beginnings of several excellent songs. He brought with him ideas and concepts that were to be “fleshed out by the band.” John proposed tangible ideas for his songs, but he had always believed that it took the consummate talents of the entire group to bring a song to life.

However, in the case of two tracks that John created for the White Album, there was a bit of theoretical acquiescence and compromise. In developing these songs, John did use the talents and efforts of his entire group, but he also employed the McCartney recipe for success. The two songs we’re about to look at evolved slowly, and they changed dramatically from May of 1968 to their eventual, delayed release. They are:

Child of Nature

Whist in Rishikesh, both John and Paul were inspired to write songs based on a talk that the Maharishi had given about the relationship between man and nature. Paul wrote “Mother Nature’s Son,” and John penned “Child of Nature.”

On some level, John must have known that the lyrics he’d scribbled onto paper were rather ludicrous. John was no child of nature. In fact, I can only think of ONE instance in which he was profoundly touched by the majesty of his surroundings. In May of 1964, when John and Cynthia visited the Irish Cliffs of Mohr, John had perched alone, for some time, on a rocky, wind-swept Irish ledge. With Cynthia watching him protectively from a distance, John had taken it all in. And that afternoon as the sun set, he discovered a deep kinship with Ireland…a spiritual connection that spurred him to tell Cynthia that Ireland was where he wanted to retire, to spend the end of his life.

But otherwise, John spent as little time in nature as possible. Even when fervently trying to raise funds for a new guitar by mowing Mimi’s lawn, he never quite finished the job. Mimi told Ray Coleman: “He’d do half the job and give me a squeaker kiss for the rest.” John Lennon was no Euell Gibbons.

So here, in “Child of Nature” — as John tries to create a song about a theme that is foreign to him — he can’t quite take the job seriously. Indeed, as he sings his demo at Kinfauns, he warbles in a rather mocking way, filling the performance with exaggerated vibrato. It almost seems as if he is making fun of himself. In his heart of hearts, John knew that his lyrics lacked sincerity.

However, John didn’t give up on the offering…that afternoon, he diligently worked with his group. He double-tracked his voice on George’s Ampex recorder; he asked Ringo to use a shaker to accompany him. But despite a sincere effort, the song failed to soar.

Always shrewd and self-evaluating, John didn’t permit “Child of Nature” to be included on the White Album. For months after the LP’s release, he held it in abeyance.

Then, on the first day of the Let It Be sessions, John toyed with the offering again, recording it without that famous opening line, “On the road to Rishikesh.” By that juncture in history, John wanted nothing to remind him of the Maharishi. But try as he might, “Child of Nature” still didn’t work.

Finally, in 1971, John got down to brass tacks. He completely retooled the song into the very honest, open, and frank “Jealous Guy.” Now singing bespoke lyrics that suited his life and personality, John hit the mark.

I was dreaming of the past

And my heart was beating fast

I began to lose control, I began to lose control…

I didn’t mean to hurt you

I’m sorry that I made you cry…

Now this was about the real John…the little boy who had been so abandoned in his past that he could never trust future relationships…the child who had been so unloved that he could never relax into loving without the trembling query, “If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true??” The lyrics of “Jealous Guy” were fitting for the man who often hurt people before they could hurt him. It was a genuine song.

In transforming “Child of Nature,” John had adopted Paul’s caution against work created too spontaneously. Though much later, John’s bent towards immediate release would succeed with “Instant Karma,” here a brilliant work was unearthed through years of change and reconsideration. “Child of Nature” was the germ of what would later become one of John’s most outstanding works.

Sexy Sadie

Like the British Romantic poets (Keats, Shelly, Wordsworth, Poe, Coleridge), John was most productive during periods of trial. His gift (and his key to survival) was transforming pain into music. And since the spring of 1968 was replete with pain and anguish for him, John was writing superb music. Therefore, John came to Kinfauns bearing splendid songs to offer his mates. Some, like “Sexy Sadie,” however, still needed work.

Most Beatles fans know that John had penned “Sexy Sadie” in Rishikesh, during the aftermath of a rumour that the Maharishi had committed a grave impropriety with one of the young females on the Rishikesh excursion (a Mia Farrow look-alike named Pat, a nurse from Southern California).

John, who’d fervently hoped that the Maharishi would be “The Answer” to his marital problems and his discontent, reacted violently to the “griff” that the supposed holy man was more man than holy. John deducted, very sadly, that the Maharishi, therefore, probably didn’t hold the peace he was seeking, and disgusted, John had begun packing to leave India.

The version of “Sexy Sadie” that John sang to his friends in Esher wasn’t, of course, the original Rishikesh version. Only George Harrison had heard the initial lyrics, and he’d wisely convinced John not to use them. George had also encouraged John to scrap the very pointed title, “Maharishi,” pointing out not only the legal ramifications, but also, the bad karma one might incur from such a rash move. And John had listened.

With wisdom prevailing, John didn’t perform the original song at Kinfauns, either. Already, he’d begun the process of transforming “Maharishi” into the more acceptable “Sexy Sadie.” John had already implemented changes that would permit this song to be played on radio.

On July 19 and 21, in EMI Studios, John continued to cultivate his song. But this time, he moved more rapidly than he did with “Child of Nature.” Following his long-held philosophy of developing a song in studio with his band, John worked with “the group” to shape the track. The Beatles did 21 takes of “Sexy Sadie” on July 19, and then, completed another 23 takes on 24 July. And that work certainly paid off.

“Sexy Sadie” emerged as the version that we now know. Although it is a rather “watered down” shadow of John’s original manuscript, the enhanced track appealed to a much wider group of listeners. Who hadn’t, at least once, been duped by a charming and duplicitous man or woman? Who hadn’t been deceived? John Lennon had sagely turned a personal affront into a universal theme…and in doing so, had created one of the strongest offerings on the White.

To learn more about the Esher Demos, attend Dr. Kit O’Toole’s presentation at the 2019 New York Metro Fest for Beatles Fans where you’ll be able to hear gifted musician, Scott Erickson, perform many of these unique songs for you.

To order your own copy of the newly remastered Esher Demos, HEAD HERE

Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

‘Tis the Esher Season!

By Jude Southerland Kessler

Part 1

Prior to their 1968 summer and early autumn recording sessions at EMI, Paul McCartney stated that The Beatles’ original plan was to have several rehearsals prior to the recording of their new LP.[i] But “life,” as we all know, “is what happens while you’re making other plans.” [ii] And so, the boys got one day and one day only to present their ideas and concept songs for The Beatles LP to one another. But what a magical day it turned out to be…and what remarkable tracks have recently been revealed to us via the long-awaited mid-November 2018 release of the Esher Demos.

For McCartney fans, there are not as many diamonds to unearth on Esher as there are for Lennon or Harrison aficionados. In keeping with Paul’s lifelong belief that rock’n’roll should be well-manufactured rather than grown, extemporaneously organic, Paul came to George Harrison’s house at Kinfauns with his demo songs almost completely fleshed out. Prior to his arrival in Esher, Paul had performed and recorded the songs with full backing tracks. He’d left very little to the imagination. Indeed, few of McCartney’s Esher offerings deviate significantly from the version we’ve come to know so well on the White Album.

And although Ringo contributed significantly to the White Album, there was no original Starr composition proudly presented to the others on that late day in May 1968. Therefore, in Part 1 of our discussion of the Esher Demos, our focus will turn to two of George Harrison’s offerings, “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and “Not Guilty.” In Part 2, we’ll consider Harrison’s “Sour Milk Sea” and a clever Lennon contribution: “What’s the New Mary Jane?” And in our final blog prior to the New York Metro Fest, we’ll examine John’s “Child of Nature” and “Julia.”

While My Guitar Gently Weeps — In Rishikesh, India, George was less productive musically than John and Paul because he firmly believed that writing music was contrary to everything The Beatles had journeyed to India to achieve. They were supposed to be (he insisted) retreating from work and the pressures of business; they were supposed to be concentrating on their souls.

Paul later commented on the Rishikesh experience: “I remember talking about the next album, and George was quite strict. He’d say, ‘We’re not here to talk music; we’re here to meditate.’”[iii] But agreeing to George’s face, Paul kept right on clandestinely writing music…while John meditated but worked openly — looking, all the while, for “a shortcut” to the Inner Light.

But despite their myriad of distractions from the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s teachings, the deep influence of India, nevertheless, filled the White Album. Indeed, George was later quoted as saying, “The experience of India was all embodied in that album.”[iv] And nowhere is it heard or felt more than in the reflective, soul-searching Esher version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

Without being preachy (and George could occasionally be preachy, as in “Within You, Without You”), this quiet song enumerates the sins and faults of his “brothers” and almost pleads with them for repentance and a better way forward.

In this raw, primitive Esher version — minus the urgency of Clapton’s dazzling lead guitar — you can hear George’s heartbreak. Rock’n’roll author of The Recipe Records Series, Lanea Stagg, commented, “You can almost taste the salt of George’s tears.” Pared down to its essentials, Esher’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” is even more poignant and touching than its final iteration.

This May 1968 version of the song is the background that we hear playing as Martin Scorsese’s “Living in the Material World, Part II” opens. And it’s an apt beginning to the second half of George’s biography, because with this song, Harrison more or less declares his independence from The Beatle collective and dejectedly, but firmly, sets out on his solo career.

Once this song goes into EMI production — once it’s engineered and filled out — the listener will hear Harrison’s words less clearly, less pointedly. But here, with minimal embellishment, one digests the deep disappointment that George has found in John and Paul:

“I don’t know why nobody told you how to unfold your love,

I don’t know how someone controlled you,

They bought and sold you.”

However, although you can’t miss the sorrow in George’s voice (the regret that things have played out as they have), you can also hear his resolve. He has come to terms with the fact that the world is still turning; he realizes that there are other options for him. And if waiting around too long to be respected has been a mistake, well, “with every mistake, we must surely be learning.” And so, George is sadly — very sadly — realizing that he must now move on.

“While My Guitar Gently Weeps” always tugs at the heartstrings, but never more than when you hear it without any distractions. This is just George from Speke telling his boyhood Merseyside friends how much he has loved them and how much he has suffered…and now, at last, he intends to say goodbye.

In this version, it is George Harrison’s — and no one else’s — guitar that gently weeps.

Not Guilty –

“Not Guilty” is another of George Harrison’s songs (in the same vein as “Piggies,” “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” and “Sour Milk Sea”) in which he reprimands his mates for the way they’ve dealt with him through the years. However, his other songs are rather veiled — somewhat softened. This track is not milquetoast. This is Harrison standing up for himself, without apology, without regret.

In fact, in 1999, George told Billboard Editor-in-Chief, Timothy White, that this song addresses “the grief I was catching from Lennon and McCartney post-India.” He went on to say that he was telling them once and for all that: “I wasn’t guilty of getting in the way of their career. I said I wasn’t guilty of leading them astray in our going to Rishikesh to see the Maharishi. I was sticking up for myself …”[v]

According to Harrison biographer Peter Doggett, in You Never Give Me Your Money, another issue that George was addressing was the incredible amount of money that The Beatles had invested on the launch of Apple. George had always been a sharp-eyed steward of the group’s finances, and in the spring of 1968, he felt that Apple’s extravagances were “too lavish” and unnecessary. In “Not Guilty,” Harrison relents and says he “won’t upset the Apple cart.” But, clearly, George isn’t pleased with the status quo.

The Esher version of “Not Guilty” is clear evidence that by May of 1968, George Harrison was no longer content to be long-suffering, to bite back his indignation, to “get along.” From the secure environment of his own home, Harrison cleared his throat, lifted his head, and sang his lyrics unabashedly — face-to-face with the friends who’d implied that he’d led them astray by convincing them to go to Rishikesh. He stared into their eyes and told them that he had never stood in the way of their progress…and that he had no apologies whatsoever for his behavior. It was a bold move, albeit an emotional one.

In the Esher Demo of “Not Guilty,” you can hear the passion in George’s voice. You can also feel the rigid, awkward silence all around him.

Next blog: “Sour Milk Sea” and “What’s the New Mary Jane?”

Purchase the re-engineered White Album with the Esher Demos and liner notes HERE.

[i] Howlett, Kevin, “Esher Demos” liner notes for the re-engineered White Album, November 2018.

[ii] Lennon, John, “Beautiful Boy” lyrics, with credit to Allen Saunders, an American cartoonist who created Mary Worth and used this phrase in a piece in Readers’ Digest in Feb. 1957.

[iii] Howlett, Kevin, “On the Road to the White Album,” liner notes for the re-engineered White Album, November 2018.

[iv] Howlett, “Esher Demos” liner notes for the re-engineered White Album, November 2018.

[v] Huntley, Elliot J., Mystical One: George Harrison – After the Break-Up of The Beatles, 165.

Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

All The Lonely People

By Jude Southerland Kessler

Revolver: It was a serious LP about solemn issues, and no song expressed the theme of this album better than “Eleanor Rigby.”

Ah, look at all the lonely people!

That formal “Greek chorus” opening the song boldly announced to us all the “grand motif” of the songs that would follow (and repeated the theme of “Taxman,” which had just preceded it). “Ah, look at all the lonely people!” It was Revolver’s seven-word synopsis, in all its intricacy and creative glory.

So why is “Eleanor Rigby” not the opening song on the LP, then? Why is it placed as the second track on the record?

For the listener, “Taxman” is the equivalent of a novel’s “hook,” that exciting chapter that draws the reader into the book at large. But then, in Chapter Two – in “Eleanor Rigby” – the reader settles into the narrative and begins the book in earnest. He or she takes a breath, sits back, and listens…begins to pay attention and absorb the theme of what is to come.

“Taxman” immediately grabs our attention, but in “Eleanor Rigby” (to the moving, poignant sound of a string octet [1]), we are given a quiet moment to stop, think, and preview every single issue to follow on this album: isolation, loneliness, love desired, love denied, and finally, death. In the storied lives of Eleanor Rigby and Father McKenzie, we get a glimpse of all this is to come: the irreparable heartbreak in “For No One,” the aching need and hunger in the seemingly jaunty “Got to Get You Into My Life [2],” the anger in “And Your Bird Can Sing,” and even the deep depression of “She Said She Said.” It’s all there.

For The Beatles, this song couldn’t have come at a better time. A fissure was on its way to becoming a cleft (bass and treble), and the cleft would eventually become a split. But right now, it was only a fissure. Barely there, and yet, still a problem. But magically, this lovely song about isolation and loneliness, for a time, bridged that fragile gap and brought The Beatles close together again. If only for a short time.

They met at John’s Kenwood and began tackling “Eleanor Rigby” as a team. Paul had already developed the basic melody, but many of the lyrics still eluded him. The central character (eventually Eleanor) had inadequately evolved from “Ola Na Tungee” to “Miss Daisy Hawkins” without Paul’s feeling that this was right [3]. And similarly, he was searching for a story about the parish priest. And so, he left London behind and went out into the night, in search of a little help from his friends.

According to Pete Shotton, when Paul arrived at John’s “Kenwood,” John, George, Ringo, and Pete were all there [4]. John, bored with the telly, suggested they all go up to his recording studio “’n play a bit of music [5].” And that is when Paul offered up “this little tune here [that] keeps poppin’ into me head, but I haven’t got very far with it [6].” And so the lads listened…and began to offer suggestions.

Pete pointed out that the fans would “think that’s your poor old dad” in the song “left all alone in Liverpool to darn his own socks [7].” And alarmed, Paul quickly agreed: they needed a new name for the lonely cleric. So Pete, thumbing through a phone book, began to call out Mc-names to the gathered group. “McVicar?” he shouted. Hilarious…and so, not appropriate for the song’s disposition. “McKenzie?” Right. It fit the melody’s patter, and besides, they’d once known that Northwich Memorial Hall compere, Tommy McKenzie. “Good man – Tommy!” one of them said. “Yeah, right, give the lad a nod!”

So Father McKenzie it was…a holy man wholly alone, solitary, and brooding. But doing what exactly? “Darnin’ his socks in the night,” Ringo suggested. “Yeah, right!” “That!” And it was adopted on the spot.

“Writin’ sermons that no one will hear,” John claimed to have added later, in a room alone with Paul [8]. And that, too, became part of the song.

It was George, however, who suggested the most memorable line of all: “Ah, look at all the lonely people [9].” A simple phrase. Perfect. It spoke eloquently of solitary Eleanor, unloved and unlovely, picking up not her bouquet, but fallen rice littering an empty church where a wedding had been. It captured the spirit of the devoted, solitary man of God whose entire life’s work had (alas) saved no one. It was the quintessential line of hopelessness that hovered over this beautiful song of longing.

The Beatles: each one of them added something. (Even Pete, who’d once been a QuarryMan and their mate in the Jacaranda [10]). For several hours, the lads worked together, standing close – shoulder to shoulder, as it were – and in that small bit of time, the fissure closed.

In days to come, Paul would record the song alone, with John and George only brought in to sing harmony. No other contribution needed.

In years to come, they would argue about who had contributed what that seminal night.

Paul would say he had most of the song written before he even visited Kenwood. John would say, “Of course there isn’t a line of theirs [Ringo’s, George’s and Pete’s] in the song because I finally went off into a room with Paul, and we finished the song [11].” Pete would continue to insist that McKenzie was entirely his, but others would deny it vehemently. The Beatles would forget the night they came together as the cleft widened to a split, and they would go their separate ways.

In the summer of 1966, The Beatles lived in a dream, but it wasn’t always a pleasant one. And that night, when they all said, “T’rah” and motored away, John stood at the window, wearing a face that seemed content, yet was anything but. Dousing the light and trudging upstairs did he hum, “All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong?”

It’s possible that he did. And the fissure ran.

1. Rodriguez, Robert. Revolver: How The Beatles Re-Imagined Rock’n’Roll, 132.

2. Of course, Paul famously stated that “Got to Get You Into My Life” was a sly reference to his new fascination with marijuana, but like all Beatles’ songs, “there’s more here than meets the eye.” We’ll discuss the complex levels of meaning in this song soon!

3. Guesdon, Jean-Michel and Phillipe Margotin, All the Songs: The Story Behind Every Beatles Release, 326.

4. Shotton, Pete, John Lennon: In My Life, 123. Note that Guesdon and Margotin state the Mal Evans and Neil Aspinall were also there. Pete does not include them in his account of the evening.

5. Shotton, 123.

6. Shotton, 123.

7. Shotton, 123 and Rodriguez, 82. Pete says that he was the one consulting the phone book. Rodriguez tells us that Paul was the one consulting the phone book. In any event, a phone book was consulted and the group conferred on last names.

8. Guesdon, Jean-Michel and Phillipe Margotin, All the Songs: The Story Behind Every Beatles Release, 326. This information was gleaned from David Sheff’s Playboy Interviews with John and Yoko.

9. Shotton, 123.

10. Pete’s contribution might have been quite significant indeed. We are told in Rodriguez’s book that “It was Shotton that came up with the key development of having these two lonely people cross paths, only in death.” (p. 82)

11. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews.

Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.