- From Faith Current: “The Sacred Ordinary: St. Peter’s Church Hall” - May 1, 2023
- A brief (?) hiatus - April 22, 2023
- Something Happened - March 6, 2023
[As part of our New Regime here at Dullblog, we’ve started reaching out to commenters with interesting, well worked-out opinions to write these up as posts. Commenter @Faith pitched this idea last week, and here’s what she came up with. Enjoy. — MG]
By FAITH CURRENT • (The headline quote is from Carlin’s McCartney: A Life, p. 215)
Paul and Linda McCartney in the studio, 1970
Every time I read a new McCartney bio, I dread this moment in the story. I ache for Paul’s naive enthusiasm, for the damage it will do to his credibility, for the soft underbelly it will expose to those whose knives are out for him, for the way he makes a difficult time in his life just. that. much. more. effing. difficult. “Don’t doooooo it!” I plead, willing my words back across time and into his stubborn, heartbroken, addlepated, whiskey-soaked skull. (Do I take these things too personally? Why, yes, yes, I do.)
But of course, my cries go unheard and he does do it. And as self-sabotaging and ill-considered as “I’m gonna go with Linda on keyboards” appears at first glance, I think there’s a case to be made that Keyboard Linda may have been essential to Paul’s post-Beatle future.
One of the things that makes The Beatles so endlessly fascinating is that there is paradox around every turn. And the paradox inherent in the Lovely-Linda-Joins-The-Band Caper is that the Paul McCartney who thought this up is the very same Paul McCartney who has a track record of pushing back hard against anything that compromises the quality of his music. Paul seems to have been the one who protested loudest about Stu’s and Pete’s musical shortcomings. That guy matures into Studio Obsessive Paul. Which then turns into Micromanaging Paul, the Paul of “let’s do sixty-two fun-filled takes of ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer!’” royally pissing off everyone in service of a song he apparently didn’t even like.
We admire Paul for this attention to detail, and we should. For one thing, we don’t get Sgt. Pepper without it. But mistakes were, you know, made. Damage was, you know, done.
So how to reconcile Perfectionist Paul with the guy who said, “I’m gonna go with Linda on keyboards”? Here’s the key: Paul’s perfectionism always happened in a situation where he was making music with his best friends. Best friends were who you made music with, and if you needed to polish them up a little bit, redo their guitar parts or sweeten their vocals, you did it. After the breakup, Linda was his best friend—therefore, she should be in his band.
The boys in the bubble, 1964.
Paul’s 1970 Rock And Roll Fantasy Camp makes sense…if you had been a Beatle, living in the Beatles bubble. I think it’s easy to forget now how sheltered all four of The Beatles were, even in 1970. They’d pretty much gone right from being kids living at home, to being ensconced in the protective Beatles bubble in its various forms. What part of the Beatles experience was a bubble? All of it. Even Hamburg, for all its decadence, was a bubble in its own way. Bravado aside, it’s hard to imagine that all of them — still teenagers on the first go-round in ‘61 — weren’t collectively terrified by what they found there. Between the extreme culture shock and the language barrier, the baby Fabs no doubt sheltered together even more than they had in Liverpool.
Then, there was Brian taking care of them, that bubble, where he made all the arrangements of care and feeding, and all they had to do was perform and make music. Then Beatlemania—“a room and a car and a stage and a car and a room…” And after that, John, Paul, George and Ringo were more or less gods walking the earth, with any semblance of the “real world” dissipated forever.
Paul was perhaps the most protected of them all, living at home even after things started to take off. Even when he finally moved to London, Paul eschewed a flat of his own in favor of the domestic comforts of the Asher home. He’s admitted that he stayed with Jane long even after it was over between them because he didn’t want to lose his connection to her family and especially to Mrs. Asher’s maternal ministrations.
In addition to their isolation, there’s The Beatles’ odd habit of drafting friends with no musical ability — John forming the Quarrymen in which no one knew how to play a note; Paul teaching John guitar, Stu buying a bass he didn’t know how to play. Really the whole, “my mom has a tea chest, let’s start a skiffle band” vibe that kicked all of this off in the first place. I suspect Paul thought that’s just how you did it. First you picked the people you wanted in the band — people you liked and trusted and that you could stand spending a lot of time with in very close quarters — then you taught them how to play. That’s a pretty haphazard way to put together the most important band in the history of the world, but incredibly enough, it worked.
While Linda being in Paul’s new band was weird to the rest of the world (including probably Linda), it wasn’t in the slightest bit weird to Paul. Music had always been a special thing Paul did with those he was closest to, starting all the way back with his dad. So what happens when your best friends, the people you make music with, don’t want to make music with you anymore? It’s a double loss…and a big problem.
It seems that Paul was by far the most devastated by the breakup. Consider his being so distraught by John’s divorce announcement that Mal Evans had to drive him home. And then his breakdown in Scotland, during which he was rendered so nonfunctional that Linda worried for his sanity, and perhaps even his life. And rewinding, there’s his plea in “Oh! Darling”: “I’ll never make it alone” – contrary to conventional wisdom that Paul knew he was the most suited for solo success, I think Paul was terrified to carve out a career as a solo artist.
John almost certainly had similar self-doubt, but he also had Yoko, whom he’d managed to convince himself in his heroin-drenched haze was a credible musical replacement for Paul McCartney. George pretty much just wanted to go play Guitar Hero with Clapton et. al., and record his backlog of alleged masterpieces that hadn’t passed Beatles muster. And Ringo, the world’s most famous sideman, was by then probably at least somewhat relieved at the prospect of playing with anyone who didn’t engage in screaming matches.
So of course when Paul finally dries out and picks himself up off the filthy floor of his Scottish hovel and starts to make music again, he’s going to draft Linda to support him in the studio and in that most intimate of intimate places, the writing process. Of course he’s going to do that in the absence of the other three, and of course primarily in the absence of John.
Here’s another thing that almost certainly spun Paul into the musical arms of his new bride — unlike the bonded band of brothers that was The Beatles, he was now facing the unsettling-at-best and terrifying-at-worst prospect of working with a band in an employer/employee relationship rather than as creative partners.
Okay, sure, Perfectionist Paul was probably salivating a little at the freedom of finally being able to tell everyone exactly which notes to play with a clear conscience because he’s now signing the checks. But I doubt that satisfaction was enough to offset the daunting prospect of making music with for-hire outsiders, rather than with childhood friends who shared his history, his inside jokes and the occasional group wank.
I think that for Paul, music has always been the way he expresses his love in the world, maybe the only place outside of his family life where he lets his guard down. And actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if he made himself more vulnerable making music than he does with his family. Making music, for Paul, seems to be a form of making love — not sex, love. And I wonder if especially during that most fragile post break-up period, he was too raw to do that with strangers. We all know Paul was fine with sex with strangers, but making love…. making music, that’s a whole other thing. And thus, of course, his first solo album was just him and Linda.
But I actually think it was even more stark: Given he was paying them, the prospect of making music with strangers may have felt like musical and creative prostitution—something that would have been particularly traumatic for him so soon after losing the other three, especially John.
(SIDE NOTE: It’s maybe worth noting that despite what must have surely been an avalanche of requests throughout the years, Paul has taken on relatively few collaborators — the most promising of which, with Elvis Costello, fell apart as quickly as it began. Was it too intimate to do the musical nasty with a stranger, even if — or perhaps because — the stranger in question bore similarities to John? But I digress.)
Before the split, Paul had been pushing the other Beatles to get back to where they’d once belonged as a way of healing the rifts that had opened up between them. He wanted to return them to their beginnings as a raw, scruffy little road band, “Ricky and the Red Streaks,” piling into a van and playing roots rock-and-roll in the shaggy little dance halls where they’d started out. And wouldn’t that have been something? Can we take a minute to mourn that this didn’t get to happen? I mean, the bootlegs alone…
Wings on Tour, 1972.
Paul did with Wings what he’d wanted to repeat with The Beatles, to repeat what had worked so spectacularly the first time around. Hence the impromptu college bus tour, the ramshackle rehearsal space, the rushed and rough approach to the initial albums, the (probably somewhat forced) “family” atmosphere, and of course, Soulmate 2.0 at his side — without a doubt a poor substitute musically for John Lennon, but who else but Linda could do it?
Only this wasn’t anything like the first time around. It wasn’t four childhood friends who’d shared an experience unique in all the world, forged in the crucibles of Liverpool and Hamburg and Beatlemania. And he wasn’t an unknown 15-year old kid playing “Twenty Flight Rock” in the basement of St. Peters Church on an upside down guitar. He was Paul McCartney and everyone was watching, including an awful lot of people who wanted him to fall on his ass. (I’m looking at you, Jann Wenner.)
To Paul’s extreme credit, his wacky plan worked. Wings became a huge success, and he’s the only solo artist of that generation who continues to chart singles in 2022 — a stunning accomplishment by even Beatles standards.
In the matter of Lovely Linda Joins The Band, Paul was right. Despite her musical limitations, without Linda as a creative collaborator, I’m not sure Paul would have been able to pull himself together enough to have a successful solo career at all, or at the very least, not for a good long while. And that ultimately would have been far, far worse for his legacy than any musical damage Linda inflicted. (And btw, can we agree that it took some steel ovaries for her to perform onstage with Paul Effing McCartney?)
The Beatles are a paradox, and so it seems is Paul. “I’m gonna go with Linda on keyboards” was both a spectacularly bad musical decision and also one of the most necessary post-Beatles decisions that Paul made. And maybe, just maybe, it also took steel testicles for Paul to be willing to do it—especially then, in the immediate aftermath of the greatest group ever, with John being…well, we all know how John was being.
Because of Linda, Paul got to keep making love to us with his music. And we got to keep being made love to. We got “Maybe I’m Amazed,” and “Backseat of My Car” and “Tug of War” and “Liverpool Oratorio” and “Jenny Wren” and those exquisite McCartney/Costello demos and so much more. I for one am willing — more than willing — to accept Linda on keyboards in exchange for all of that. And for Paul’s sanity and happiness too.
Related posts:
Happy 50th Birthday to McCartney’s “Ram”
McCartney, “New,” and “generic genius”: rebutting Ben Greenman
Krall does Paul: McCartney cover on “Wallflower”
Lennon and McCartney’s “lost reunion,” by David Gambacorta
Happy Birthday Paul McCartney, Friend of the Jews
The Problem With Being a Genius
McCartney Opens Sacramento Stadium with a Bang
Interview with Jay Goeppner of the the Beatle Brothers
McCartney Talks Carpool Karaoke
McCartney’s Musical Aviary
McCartney and Starr on Orlando attack
The unexpected from Ono and McCartney
@Faith
A big thank you for this. It made for very good reading. I/we will look for more from you should your time allow.
I particularly like this line: “John almost certainly had similar self-doubt, but he also had Yoko, whom he’d managed to convince himself in his heroin-drenched haze was a credible musical replacement for Paul McCartney.” You have encapsulated volumes of Beatle fact, commentary, conjecture, etc. into a single sentence.
@Michael and Nancy
Chapeau bas for opening up the site to new writers.
Thank you, Neal!
Yeah, I have…. problems with a lot of canonical Beatles thinking. It makes a lot of things that are simple much too complicated, and a lot of things that are complicated much too simple. ‘Twas ever thus… perhaps fodder for future scribblings.
@Faith, excellent piece, I really enjoyed it.
I think you accurately and insightfully made the case for why Paul had Linda in the band, despite the criticism he received.
I thought of this quote by George Martin:
“I don’t think Linda is a substitute for John Lennon, any more than Yoko is a substitute for Paul McCartney.”
Like you explained so beautifully, Paul could not just have anyone work beside him. It had to be someone he trusted and loved, no matter what George Martin, or the rock critics said.
I really love this:
“I think that for Paul, music has always been the way he expresses his love in the world, maybe the only place outside of his family life where he lets his guard down. And actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if he made himself more vulnerable making music than he does with his family.”
I think this is spot on, and everything we have read, plus all the interviews Paul has given throughout the years, bears this out.
Paul tends to give the same answers and tell the same stories in every interview, because he’s not comfortable sharing more intimate details. He shares through his songs, and no matter how successful his post Beatles music has been, I’m so very glad he has continued to make it. We have Linda to thank for that.
Thank you, Tasmin, and yeah, George Martin was, of course, 100% correct. There was obviously no replacing either John or Paul from a creative standpoint, and not even, I would submit, from a personal one in terms of their unique partnership. It was an unusual and singular relationship in every way, and there was no way to substitute anyone else and get anywhere near the same result. I think that’s why the world spent 10 years collectively holding its breath hoping the two of them would find their way back to writing together again.
I’ve thought a lot about whether or not that would have happened and how it might have gone if they had. I don’t have a clear take on that so far, but if I figure out a plausible theory, maybe I’ll write a post about it…
Anyway, thank you for reading!
Faith, thanks for writing this! I think you’re exactly right about why Paul needed Linda by his side, musically. The line in “Maybe I’m Amazed” that “you help me sing my song” is telling.
Also, as a longstanding fan of “Ram” and other early McCartney solo / Wings work, I have to add that Linda’s contributions weren’t as musically disastrous as many have claimed. She could harmonize pretty well with Paul, and contributes importantly to songs like “Uncle Albert / Admiral Halsey,” “Man We Was Lonely,” “Eat At Home,” “Smile Away,” and “Another Day.”
“Man We Was Lonely” and “Dear Boy,” like “Maybe I’m Amazed,” express why Paul needed Linda. He was “hard-pressed to find a friend” and his “heart was down and out” when he met her — but now he’s “fine all the while” because “her love came through and brought me around.” Linda knew her limitations, took the criticism, and was always game to pitch in. I admire her.
Thank you for the warm welcome, Nancy. I appreciate it so much.
As a singer, I find Linda’s harmonies consistently less than pleasing, but that’s an entirely subjective POV., my opinion only. Harmony is in the ear of the listener. But as I wrote, I’m happy to deal with it in exchange for all we got in return.
It’s so rare that a marriage in the white hot spotlight works as well as theirs did, and I often think about how much sadder this whole story would be if Paul hadn’t had Linda as his partner and muse. I mean, can you imagine having to metabolize not only the awfulness of the breakup, John’s breakdown/murder and George’s untimely death, but also sad, lonely, broken Paul who never got his mojo back and failed as a solo art on top of that? We’d all need copious amounts of therapy, I think…. for me, the Paul/Linda story is sort of the shining beacon of love and joy in the middle of all the sad.
“Linda knew her limitations, took the criticism, and was always game to pitch in. I admire her.”
This is what I always think about — Linda knew full well that everyone would make fun of her, a non-musician. But her husband asked her for this, and she gave it. Helping him was more important than being cool, or avoiding public scorn. In a world where “fear of public speaking” is at or near the top of the list, how much do you have to love someone to go out and sing on stage in front of 50,000 people? She was amazing.
Thanks for this @Faith. Beautifully written!
I agree @Nancy. Linda’s harmonies on Bip Bop, for example, are some of my favourite moments in Paul’s early solo/Wings work. I wonder if she was a direct influence on some later female singers (I’m especially thinking of punk singers) who were singers because they wanted to make music, even if they didn’t have conventionally pretty voices.
She was there, “after the ball” “waiting to bring [him] around”.
Paul really has led a charmed life, in many ways. I’m very glad Linda was there at the right time with the right temperament to be such an important part of it.
Oh, and you’re so right about “those exquisite McCartney/Costello demos”! They took my breath away. The harmonies!
@meaigs, Paul has led a charmed life, but his generally excellent choices in partners, generally harmonious family life, and so forth, speaks to the high level of emotional intelligence that @Faith mentioned in her piece. The guy could’ve ended up with any number of people and, with a handful of exceptions, has paired harmoniously and well.
Well put.
On a very tenuously connected note: I’ve written a piece about how I think Paul gets (weirdly) subjected to misogyny, if you’d be interested. I mentioned it in the contact form, but I’m not sure it was received.
meaigs, I’d certainly be like to read that post! It’s interesting to me right now that Harry Styles is clearly influenced by McCartney and is getting the same kinds of gender panic / misogyny directed at him by some on the right.
ALL the Beatles got this kind of criticism, to be clear. All the worry about their long hair and “are you a boy or a girl” maps right onto the current gender panic.
Great! Let me know where to send it.
I’ve noticed that Harry Styles rejects gender binary rules in his clothing. There’s something quite chill about the way he does it that I particularly appreciate.
My favourite quote about gender stuff in general is “our society is in a lot of pain about gender” (NT Wright). It helps me stay compassionate.
meaigs, you can send it to Michael G. He’s the main point of contact for HD. I look forward to reading it!
Oh that really is an excellent quote. And one could make the case that The Beatles’ impact was both a reflection of the massive scale of that pain, and an attempt to resolve it.
“I think that for Paul, music has always been the way he expresses his love in the world, maybe the only place outside of his family life where he lets his guard down.”
I’m reminded of something he said about preferring to be alone when he wrote — or, in Beatles days, with John only. Roughly, “I’ve never been one for orgies.”
Regarding collaborations, though, there’s one which has been both fruitful and more than a one-night-stand: with Youth, as The Fireman.
That’s a really good point, Katya. I think The Fireman’s “Rushes,” in particular, is underrated. I keep thinking about writing a post on it.
It’s gorgeous, moving, and sui generis.
I just listened to an interview with Youth on I Am the Eggpod, focused on Electric Arguments. He notes something that I’d thought myself: there’s a bit of Fireman in McCartney III.
My impression is that his collaborative technique, on Electric Arguments at least, was to present a kind of first cause — it could be a riff, a rhythm track, or a poem — to instigate a largely improvised song from McCartney from which the track would be built, with McCartney playing all or most instrumental parts. (There were also cases when McCartney came in with a song — “Two Magpies” was something he’d recorded on his phone the night before, and a bit of that phone recording is on the track.) So not classic co-writing, but more direct creative involvement than I think is typical for a hired producer. The sessions were not without friction, but McCartney himself has said that he found this approach exciting.
Do you have a source for the “orgies” reference? I think that’s spot-on and it would be very useful for some other writing I’m working on.
And yeah, the Firemen collaborations have been amazing. I adore that Paul has never lost his interest in the avant-garde and in experimenting with the form, whether it’s classical, electronic, etc. I think it’s a big part of why he’s still charting hits and is still very much relevant in a way that no one else from that generation is.
Googling McCartney and orgies produces a lot of hits about McCartney and orgies. (He’s not into those, either.) But ah-ha — looks like the quote was from Many Years From Now, the biography by Barry Miles.
“[W]e nearly always went up to his little music room that he’d had built at the top of the house, Daddy’s room, where we would get away from it all. I like to get away from people to songwrite, I don’t like to do it in front of people. It’s like sex for me, I was never an orgy man.”
I haven’t actually read that book, just seen excerpts. I re-found this one on a tumblr post which may have other quotes of interest:
https://thecoleopterawithana.tumblr.com/post/190023552710/that-creative-moment-when-you-come-up-with-an-idea
Thank you, Katya! I have MYFN on my desk as a primary source, but I’d forgotten that quote.
The chapter on the break up in MYFN is, IMO, the best written thus far. It points out things that no one else has, from the person who was actually there, and there’s a lot of nuance and subtext in there that is scrumptious. It always surprises me that people seem to ignore that chapter when they parse the end times, given it’s the only complete extant firsthand account of that time period from one of the Beatles.
You make a great point, and I agree. She was his security blanket. I thought Linda’s vocals improved by Red Rose Speedway and are excellent on Silly Love Songs, for example. Her vocals on RAM are way too upfront and distracting to me. I thought she was doing a deliberate Yoko impression, as directed by Paul to fit the overall tone of the album (Linda is pictured wearing a Japanese mask on the sleeve, which some took to be a racist caricature; various digs including Too Many People, etc.). In a way she is like Chritine McVie of Fleetwood Mac – great as a background vocalist, not so good doing lead.
I think his collaboration with Costello didn’t work because he had very little in common with John, as much as Paul wished he did. The whole thing sounded forced. Costello’s voice is grating to my ears, and he has very little sense of melody. Sorry to any Costello fans on here, but he gets endless praise and I’m not sure why. If someone can explain what about him is John-like, I would be interested to hear.
Michelle, I agree with you about the McCartney/Costello collaboration dynamics. I’ve always thought the comparisons between Lennon and Costello are rather forced. I like some of Costello’s work, especially the earlier stuff, quite a bit, but I agree that he’s not consistently melodic in the way McCartney is. Some of his songs are — “Oliver’s Army,” “Alison,” and “Everyday I Write The Book” spring to mind — but others don’t focus on melody (“Watching the Detectives” is one example).
“Veronica” and “My Brave Face” are both good songs, but I’m not surprised that the collaboration didn’t continue.
I’m a songwriter so I’m always looking first at the composition rather than the performance, although I do think the haunting, sparse blending of their voices is something very special and gets at least somewhat in the ballpark of Paul and John’s harmonies together.
It’s inevitable I think that the world searches for someone who could be another “John” for Paul, but at the same time I think if it truly happened, we’d all be sad because it would suggest that Lennon-McCartney wasn’t the miracle we thought it was, if it could be repeated so easily. Of course it was and it can’t be and I for one am grateful for that.
That said, though, and again, speaking as a songwriter, Paul and Costello’s collaboration got closer than anyone’s. (Not that there are a lot of other choices) But I think it’s about Costello’s ability with language, his acerbic sense of humor, the edge in his lyrics and his melodies, his I don’t give a f*ck attitude towards the mainstream that gets close to John. Paul doesn’t quite have that — I think that’s what John brought to the party (and brought out of Paul on the occasions when Paul did put that edge in his lyrics).
And listening to the arrangement on their demos, I hear that same sense of texture, sonic negative space, experimentation with composition, lyrical bite and whimsy that Lennon-McCartney had. I feel the yin/yang pulsing through those demos in a way that it only ever did otherwise with John. Again, of course, not at that level or the same, nothing could or should be like That was, but it gets close enough to me that I can feel like a bit of that magic has been summoned from the ether again.
I wish the collaboration had continued because the creative tension between them could have, I think, led to some of both of their best work. But I’m glad we have what we have.
On another note, I’m consistently frustrated that Paul is such a poor judge of his own material. Listening to demos on the archival editions of his solo work, it’s often so clear that he leaves his best work on the table. (Not to mention him not realizing that Maybe I’m Amazed was The Only Choice for a single off McCartney…) I think that’s another place where he’s missing another voice in the room to tell him what his best stuff is. I think artists do this a lot when they don’t have anyone to push back against them. I know I do when I’m left to my own devices to make those kinds of creative choices, and I’m of course not Paul McCartney who has no peers, really, to tell him things he doesn’t want to hear.
I appreciate hearing your thoughts on the McCartney/Costello collaboration from a songwriter’s perspective. I’ve just never felt as excited about the pairing as many other seem to, which I chalk up to the vagaries of personal taste.
It’s quite true that Paul isn’t the judge of his best material, and in that he’s a lot like Dickens (I wrote a whole post on how much McCartney is the Dickens of rock, and have thought about expanding on that idea.) Like Dickens, McCartney is compulsively prolific, and is capable of latching onto ideas that aren’t great. For example, Dickens spent a lot of time co-writing a play called “The Frozen Deep” with Wilkie Collins, and there’s a good reason that no one but Victorian literature geeks like me have heard of it. The best work of both men is great, and the worst work by both is really bad. Maybe its the gods keeping creators humble: you can have this marvelous gift of fecundity, but you won’t be able consistently to judge what you have created.
On the “Maybe I’m Amazed” question, I recall that at first McCartney hewed to the old Beatles rule that singles were separate from albums, rather than coming from albums. Thus we get “Another Day” rather than “Maybe I’m Amazed,” and other McCartney singles that didn’t appear on albums first.
Have you listened to the demos on the extended edition of Flowers In The Dirt, @nancy? They really capture something that was lost in the published versions (which I believe was also Elvis Costello’s opinion at the time).
I’ve been thinking about this collaboration again recently, and I have a new (unsubstantiated) theory. I wonder if Elvis Costello doesn’t have the soft centre that John had. Paul can appear soft, but has a strong, stable core. I think it’s pretty well accepted now that John’s gruff exterior was (at least partly) masking vulnerability and sensitivity. In my head the dynamic between them was partly built on those contrasts. I have the impression that Costello isn’t putting on the gruffness, and might genuinely be a bit misanthropic (in a mild “sod you all” kind of way).
Obviously I don’t know any of them personally, but I find myself wondering if that soft centre was a missing puzzle piece in the collaboration.
It’s an interesting thought. In terms of his creative output I think Costello does lack John’s vulnerability, and he might well lack it personally as well. I don’t get the sense that he’s a misanthrope, though — rather, very bright and pretty menschy. The one big blot on his record is this incident from 1979, when he was still in a his post-punk angry young man phase, and also drunk off his tits:
https://ultimateclassicrock.com/elvis-costello-racist-remarks/
One interesting thing about the Lovers That Never Were demo: the harsh, accusatory part is sung by Paul, while the ambiguously conciliatory parts are an Elvis/Paul duet but with Elvis’ voice up front. They harmonize well together, but conceptually it would arguably work better if they harmonized HARMONIOUSLY as John and Paul did.
A tangent: I read an interview with Costello in which he said he’d attended the premiere of one of Paul’s classical pieces, Ecce Cor Meum, and that its second movement featured one of his greatest melodies. I found it on YouTube, and I think he’s right. It’s featured throughout the movement, but here it is as a vocal solo at the end:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=syDqDf-4k-c
@Michelle, I’ve always found Elvis Costello’s voice too adenoidal and limited — he’s a great songwriter, but that VOICE, Jesus! It’s like Harrison with half the range after ten packs of cigarettes. But I DO like the McCartney/McManus demos because Costello’s verbal mind balances Paul’s musical one, in the same way John’s did.
Just one man’s opinion, worth what you paid for it. 🙂
I was listening to those demos again last night, and I was struck by how McCartney almost seems to be doing an unconscious impression of Costello. I wonder if it’s related to the thing I do where I take on someone’s accent (and have to actively try not to, in case it sounds like I’m mocking them).
The demo for “The Lovers that Never Were”! Just greatness.
One thing that Costello brings to the table and John generally didn’t: a very broad musical scope beyond the blues/R&B family tree. EC’s background is somewhat like McCartney’s: he’s the son of a (non-rock) musician, a more professional one than McCartney’s dad, and he doesn’t hesitate to bring in elements “to the left and right of rock and roll.” Of course Lennon’s putative disdain for “granny music” went suspiciously unexpressed while he was Beatle; it was part of his post-breakup realignment at the dawn of the cock-rock 70s and a way of throwing McCartney to the douchebro hordes. He’d imbibed some of the same pre-rock popular music that McCartney had. But not as deeply, and it wasn’t as meaningful to him.
Exactly! I’ve said on here before that McCartney/Costello songs often sound like Costello songs (with the exception of My Brave Face and maybe a few others), and that while John enhanced Paul’s music, Costello’s seemed to overpower it. You might have hit on why. I get what you and Faith are saying about the demos of their collaborations being better than the released versions. I do like the demo of “The Lovers That Never Were”. That was the first version I heard, when Paul played it on his radio series Oobu Joobu (does anyone but me remember that show?). I was rather disappointed when I heard the official version on Flowers in the Dirt. @Faith, thanks for your take on Costello and why you see similarities with John.
Linda had a few things in common with John. She had that undeniable “cool” factor. When I look at Wings photos, Paul looks a little out of place among those rock star looking macho dudes (Denny Lane excepted). I always suspected that it was Linda that recruited them, directly or indirectly. I just can’t see Paul in real life, in a non-musical setting, ever hanging out with those guys. John, on the other hand, attracted those badass types like moths to a flame. Even though deep down, beneath the cool, he was more like Paul than them.
That’s really interesting that you see Linda as having had the cool factor. I look at her and see someone profoundly awkward and uncomfortable with the whole crazy situation, someone who clearly feels like she’d much rather be behind the camera than onstage and who just doesn’t look ‘right’ up there. Contrast that with Paul, who was the Beatle who mixed most comfortably with the avant guarde. (differently, I know from the bad boys that you mention).
I agree on your observation that Paul didn’t seem to really fit in with the band he chose. The whole Wings vibe has always felt a bit forced to me on many levels, not the least of which is that it really didn’t seem like Paul’s crowd, creatively or socially. It seems to me he’d have been happier mixing with people like Leonard Cohen, et al, but for whatever reason that only Paul knows, the 70s arena rock thing is where he gravitated. It’s part of why I much prefer experimental solo Paul on either side of Wings to Wings Paul.
@Michelle, I can’t remember where I read it, maybe “Many Years From Now”, but I read that Linda and Paul together chose Wings bandmates.
That makes total sense, as I don’t think Paul would want someone who Linda didn’t get on with. That goes back to Faiths point, about Paul wanting to be with people he liked, and got on with. (Good musicians too of course)
On a hippy-dippy note, both Linda and John were Libras. I remember that from my Astrology days. Obviously Paul liked Libras.
Of course! Paul is a Gemini, which are said to be very compatible with Libras.
Denny Seiwell, when he talks about his time in Wings in interviews, shows a deep love and affection for Linda. As the Americans in the band, they bonded, and the way he describes Wings’ early hippie commune days is charming. I know Wings has the reputation of being Paul’s sidemen, but Seiwell certainly doesn’t see things that way.
While Seiwell’s time in Wings ended badly, with him leaving on the eve of the trip to Nigeria to record Band on the Run, he and Paul reconnected in the early 90s and have remained close since. Seiwell says he and Paul even talked about a Wings reunion to record a Linda tribute.
I’m sure it’s been analyzed elsewhere on Hey Dullblog , but you cannot underestimate the utter jerkiness that Wenner unleashed on McCartney. Of course John, well, as it was said by Faith, we know what John was saying. It’s telling that “Wings” one of the 70s biggest attractions is not in the RRHF.
I loved the steel ovary and testicular references in the comments. I am glad Ram is getting its due.
Faith, thank you for a great article. Linda deserved the shout out.
I remember watching one particular McCartney documentary some years back (maybe 30-plus or so years ago!) and noticing quite distinctly at the time how he was describing how he came to pick the members of his then-backing band. Now, forgive me – as I’ve mentioned, this was around 30 years or so ago, and so I’m not exactly sure if my memory is recalling this correctly.
So, given that it was around 30-plus or so years ago, I’m guessing that this was a documentary plugging his then-new album ‘Flowers in the Dirt’ – and so he’d have been talking about how he came to pick that band’s line-up i.e. Wix, Hamish, Robbie, Chris, etc. Thing is, what struck me at the time (and since) – and I’m paraphrasing here – is that when he came to describing how he picked the band, he pretty much said the same thing: “we got on well and so he joined,” or, “we got on great and he joined.” I’m paraphrasing, but my point is, he didn’t say much if anything about their musicianship when it came to them joining his band. It was purely down to them ‘being good to get on with, so they were in.’ That was it.
Have to join the cohort here that admires Linda’s willingness to work with Paul and then, over the years, really give her best to honor the effort. I would think that this took serious courage to step that far out of her normal wheelhouse. She did it, she stuck with it, and she is to be commended for it.
Unfortunately for me, my mind wonders to the thoughts if John had met a women who could be many things to him and feed the petri dish of his creativity. I mean Yoko seems to have been an astoundingly powerful energy sink that could pull down, and then ground out, gigawatts of John’s energy, creativity, and sanity. It’s just too hard for me to not juxtapose Linda and Yoko even though I am told that I should not do this. Paul went off and enjoyed life and John did some weird shit.
Linda Eastman was the right woman at the right time for Paul McCartney. No, she could not replace JL, but she made Paul his own man outside the Beatles and that’s pretty impressive stuff.
Faith — I love the focus on Paul and Linda’s creative collaboration!
I think Paul chose to work with Linda because she was his wife and best friend but also because she was an artist. And an artist that inspired him.
I don’t think Paul and Linda’s creative partnership will be understood until we recognize Linda for the artist she was—and we give Paul credit he deserves as an artist. He would not have chosen someone who was not contributing to his music simply because he needed emotional support.
Paul’s whole worldview changed once he got together with Linda, and a lot of this worldview informed his music from 1968 onwards. In The Lyrics Paul says that from the times she entered his life, Linda was his muse and the most influential person on his music.
I think he had her in the band because it was fun but he also because he loved her voice and attitude, and loved the combination of their voices. I do too.
Wings is now being celebrated and it’s not in spite of Linda — it’s partly because of Linda. Linda’s contributions are wonderful.
All the Beatles suffered after the split. Maureen Starkey recalled Ringo almost taking a razor to his throat, George was unhappy and lost for periods and John — well John had constant ups and downs in the 70s. Paul was most directly affected in the immediate aftermath of the split, but he recovered relatively quickly. His bandmates on the 1972 tour said it was great fun, so he could have been in a band without her by 1972/73 onwards.
Agreed that Lennon and McCartney’s codependency with their wives reflects a need to replace each other, which they could never do. Linda isn’t a replacement for John, and Yoko isn’t a replacement for Paul.
But I don’t know if Paul tried to do that. I think he was creating something new, and he liked the ideas she brought to the group. I think the impact she had on Paul’s music is underestimated! Not in terms of her skills as a keyboardist, but in terms of her constant collaboration with him.
So I’m happy that she was in the band! She made Wings what it was.
The animated short “Daumier’s Law” seems to me a good example of collaboration across their respective areas of excellence. I also love it as a thing in itself. The backstory, as far as I’ve seen, is that Paul had written a set of short instrumental pieces as a stand-alone exercise. Linda, meanwhile, was going through her Honore Daumier period. (We’ve all been there.) The result was that they worked with animator Geoff Dunbar to create this short, in which one of Paul’s pieces is used for each chapter:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-WlJ3ZXZc4
Just dropping in to leave this quote from Paul’s Lyrics book (Arrow Through Me)
“My problem after The Beatles was, who’s going to be as good as them? I thought, ‘we can’t be as good as The Beatles, but we can be something else.’ I knew that if I were to go ahead with this project, I’d have to tough it out, but I had reserves of courage from being part of The Beatles when pennies were thrown at us at the village hall in Stroud, when we were still starting out.
“I had to put up with the equivalent once again. The hardest thing had to do with Linda, who was a complete amateur, but I thought, ‘Well, so was George when he joined the group; so was I; so was John; so was Ringo.’ I showed her a few things on keyboard, and then she taught herself and she had a couple of lessons, and it turned out her strength wasn’t necessarily the keyboard, although she handled the job. It was more as a spirit. She was a great cheerleader, and she would get crowds going, get them clapping their hands and singing along..
“In those days, there weren’t many women in groups, so she was sort of a pioneer in that respect, and listening back to the records, you can hear that she was a damn good singer, especially on harmonies. She would do the hand-clapping thing and singing backing vocals at the same time, and that’s not easy to do — which is why people employed tapes and backing tracks. Starting off a new band is always a lot of fun, but it’s a lot of hard work too; you have to establish yourself. Follow The Beatles was one of the most difficult things for me, just trying to live up to those expectations. It was even more difficult for her.” pp 21-22
Laurence Juber loved Linda, and often admired Paul and Linda’s creative partnership in the band. If we dig a little deeper than Paul’s sometimes frustratingly basic comments (which are always, in large part, a defense of her), we can see Linda’s fingerprints everywhere. After all he also said “Just as The Beatles were beginning to fragment, Linda Eastman came into my life, as not only my wife but also my just. No one was more influential on my writing and composing at the time…her love of music meshed with mine and we could suggest things to each other so easily that if she had an idea for a song or two, I could take it and run with it.
I used to think her contributions to Wings were slight, but now I think they are much more significant. Especially the first 5 albums. Paul’s sound changed and I think that was, in part, a deliberate attempt to distance himself from The Beatles, but also in part Linda’s influence.
I am quite intrigued by the Paul and Linda partnership. It is different than John and Yoko’s — which is also fascinating in its own ways. But Linda is always positioned as helpmate, whereas Yoko is viewed as an artist, and don’t think that is correct. Linda and Paul just weren’t as good at advocating for her artistry. But she did get equal billing. And Paul did let her into his music and gave her credit. Again, I think it’s disrespectful to Paul to suggest that he “needed” her there and I think a much more interesting discussion is how did they impact each other as artists.
Good comment Lily. I love Laurence Juber! I have several of his albums on my playlist. It’s a shame that he joined Wings right before Paul got busted in Japan.
I think Paul needing Linda, doesn’t negate her contributions, or her artistry. He has said she saved him, and I think she gave him much needed confidence. As Faith quoted Paul above:
“It was more as a spirit. She was a great cheerleader, and she would get crowds going, get them clapping their hands and singing along..”
Linda’s photography, cooking skills and cookbooks, were really where her artistic gifts shone. That being said, I loved Wings as a teen, and still do today. Linda was a big reason why.
This was a lovely article, a really fun read. Consider me in the Linda fan-group. I actually love her slightly off-kilter harmonies. Love the song Seaside Woman, which is credited to Linda alone IIFC. Also check out the McGear album, she was ace on that.
I work near to Carnaby Street, and I still often find myself in Kingly Street, gazing wistfully at the sign outside the former Bag o’ Nails Club, where P met L. Or vice versa…
Can you take a picture of what’s there, today?
Just found this in a 2005 interview with Paul, it’s relevant so I thought I’d post it:
Q: You seemed to be a lot more comfortable with all the baggage these days, with what you were, as well as who you are?
Paul: Maybe, but I never had any real Beatles baggage , but we were starting Wings, and you had to make a decision. Is Wings gonna be a Beatles’ cover band? No. I had to write a whole bunch of more songs. Then, there was all the in the shadow of the Beatles’ stuff, and Linda getting slagged off for being in the band. And I’m like, ‘It’s nobody’s business who’s in bands. If I wanna start a band with my Uncle Kevin, I’m allowed to do that. Ok, I understand that me starting one is different from Jimmy Riddle staring one with his Uncle Kevin. But it’s still the same rules. And, like it or not, I do have those civil rights. I’m allowed to do whatever I want, particularly in bands, after all, you know…. Anyway, we got so much flak, but we just kept working at it, and now I think when I listen to it, well, it’s not that bad at all.
https://www.theguardian.com/observer/omm/story/0,,1571996,00.html
It’s a good interview, btw. Not just the same old stories.
Thank you for posting the link Faith. That was indeed an enjoyable interview.
I certainly would not expect Sir Paul to refute, point by point, his areas of disagreement with Ian McDonald’s work, but do you perhaps have a link to any articles that do review any inaccuracies? I quite liked the book even if I did find him to be, on a few occasions, rather dismissive when there was clearly no need to be so.
Understandable if Paul doesn’t like McDonald’s effort, but is there anything that lends specifics to his judgment?
You’re quite welcome.
I confess I haven’t read Revolution in the Head for precisely the reason that Paul has dismissed it as inaccurate so kind of what’s the point? So I can’t personally speak to what’s in there other than what Paul has said and that it seems to have the inevitable (and fortunately now increasingly discredited) John bias and the same old tired and outdated ’70s narrative (a la Jann Wenner and Heroin Rage John).
I could possibly help with specific points you might have in mind, if you’d care to share?
Generally for Paul’s POV, I’d recommend the sources you already probably have or are familiar with: Paul’s Lyrics book, which is substantive and also beautiful (and a free bicep workout…) and of course, MYFN — as a side note, it’s interesting (and a little frustrating) to me how many Beatles people haven’t read what is literally the only substantive autobiography from one of the actual Beatles about the Beatles years (meaning not George’s). Even Paul seems to have forgotten he wrote it when he says that The Lyrics is the closest he’ll ever get to writing an autobiography…but I digress…
I also just got Conversations with McCartney which I haven’t read yet, but I would imagine/hope it goes into some detail as well. And then there’s McCartney 321. The Stern interviews tend to be fairly revealing as well.
As to third party sources that would refute MacDonald, as a relatively new Beatles scholar, can I confess I’m overall deeply disappointed (and often frustrated) with virtually all available third-party sources I’ve read so far? It all seems to be biased in decades old-confirmation bias and a desire to hold onto an image of the Fabs frozen in the early 70s, cuz of Jann and John.
Spitz maybe the exception, sort of, but either way, his writing is so lyrical that I kind of don’t care. He GETS it more than anyone else has, IMO, really captures what things FELT like, which is what I tend to be most interested in — the first 12 pages alone are, IMO, the best thing ever written about the Beatles.
None of which answers your question, LOL…. I’m sleep deprived.
@Faith, the interesting thing to me is that Spitz used Goldman’s research.
Quite agreed on MYFN, it is a go-to source for me.
Whatever its shortcomings, or my own disagreements with its contents, I don’t think Revolution in the Head is a continuation of the Jann Wenner/John was Three Quarters of the Beatles narrative. In fact, my sense is that its historiographical significance is as a book that started to turn that ship around. At the time it came out, I don’t know that anyone other than Goldman had so clearly portrayed John’s story as one of deterioration. To the extent that narrative through-lines can be found in a book made up of entries about individual songs, one is that Paul began to peak creatively as John began to sink.
I think Paul’s objections weren’t about Wenner-like bias but about assigning a sort of agonistic intent — e.g., “McCartney wrote cheerful song X in response to Lennon’s acerbic song Y” — when none was present as far as he was concerned. McDonald does do that sometimes. His version of a Lennon/McCartney stylistic dichotomy is fairly standard stuff, but he’s at least capable of recognizing that neither always wrote to form.
One of the big pluses is his recognition of the contributions each of the four — most refreshingly including Ringo — made to the recorded tracks. So it’s not just a matter of analyzing a “John song” or a “Paul song” as an exclusive product of the individual, an approach that drives me nuts.
I haven’t read the whole book. As Paul himself said, it’s a good “toilet book” — meaning the kind of thing that you can open anywhere and read a few entries, and that’s how I approach it. It’s full of judgments on individual songs that I don’t agree with, and his ideas about lyrics aren’t mine. But at least you feel like his opinions are really his, not the rockist posturing de jure, and his overall approach is laid out in a long forward that you can engage with intellectually. So however dated or in some ways objectionable it may be, it’s not the average douchebro product.
Well made points Katya. I rather enjoyed MacDonald for the intellectual weight that you mention–particularly his discussion of the cultural/musical progression in the 60s.
He indeed steps on a few land mines when he tries to ascribe intent. Paul or John, for example, writing something as a response to the other. Frankly I am surprised he trod that ground. Fortunately he did not make a habit of it.
It is not hard to disagree with him on some of his rather curt dismissals of some songs. If I remember correctly he cashiered Helter Skelter out by labeling it “embarrassing. ” Not a judgment that would find much support, but at least he made me think about how I would respond.
He was good with the apercu but again, I do realize the variance of opinion that many might have.
I knew Paul would not appreciate MacDonald determining intent or putting down some of the songs that he undoubtedly enjoyed writing and performing. I was just curious when I asked Faith if there were extant reviews that argue MacDonald had made serious structural problems such as making wild assumptions or including grossly incorrect info on dates, people, etc. Otherwise I found it a good addition to the library.
Sadly he took his own life and so we will never get the opportunity, but it would have been enjoyable to see him interviewed and hear how he reached the conclusions that he did.
Really? I was told ‘Revolution in the Head’ had a strong Paul bias. I’ll have to check it out now.
MYFN is wonderful if you don’t mind name dropping at every turn, a mind-numbing chapter on the ghost writer’s involvement in the London art scene, John being dismissed as boorish and unsophisticated, Paul giving percentages on Beatles songwriting credits (what, George Martin doesn’t get a 2% share?), or a story about how he got a hard-on when looking at his mother when he was a kid (competing with John again, this time in the oedipal dept? – heck, he even describes – not in this book, as his life story only covers the Beatles years – a pleasant memory he has of talking on the phone to John about baking bread, except his latest re-telling has Paul informing John he was baking bread, with John chiming in that, incidentally, he was too! Stay tuned for MYFN II, tentatively called “I Was the Real Househusband”).
Michelle, I just don’t think this is a reasonable response to the book. Any memoir by a famous person is going to involve mentions of other, often famous people. Both Lennon and McCartney gave percentages on songwriting credits — once that pattern started, it was hard to break. And I certainly don’t think that McCartney dismisses Lennon as “boorish and unsophisticated” in the book.
Pretty much every book or interview Lennon or McCartney participated in is a mixed bag, but these generalizations feel like special pleading.
I agree Nancy. Everyone’s memory is subject to change, especially if you access it over and over again (as Paul is constantly asked to). I’ve just started Conversations With McCartney, and the author says “Whenever I’ve returned with Paul to a subject we discussed years before, he’s advised me to take the earliest version as best.” So he’s aware himself of the problem.
The idea that Revolution In The Head has a pro-Paul bias made me laugh. I haven’t read many of the song entries yet, but I have a section of the introduction marked “lol” because it claims there has been a “depressing decline in [Paul’s] melodic gift since the break-up of the Beatles” and says “Losing their expressive force, [Paul’s] tunes, while as well crafted as ever, have become emotionally bland, while his music as a whole has lost the crucial element of habit-transcending surprise.”
I want to chime in here to say that there is no universe in which Paul, with his lifelong on the record deep respect and affection for John, would ever dismiss him as “boorish and unsophisticated.”
It’s been a few months since I”ve read MYFN, but as I recall, what Paul was doing in that section is correcting the record that badly needs correcting that it was John who was responsible for the avant garde and experimental music techniques that the Beatles incorporated into their music beginning with Revolver.
As confirmed by multiple sources including Emerick and George Martin, Paul was the one who initiated elements like backward tape loops, etc. due to his involvement in the London art scene, while John was hiding out at Weybridge watching TV, eating cornflakes and taking LSD (maybe all at the same time…).
That’s not Paul saying John was boorish — again, there is no universe in which I can imagine Paul saying that about John — just pointing out what history has thankfully finally started to understand — that during that period, Paul was the innovator and John, well, wasn’t. That he got on board later is fab, of course, most notably on Tomorrow Never Knows, Day in the Life and Revolution #9, but it was Paul who brought that stuff into the process and introduced John to it in the first place, because Paul was exposed to that stuff firsthand and John wasn’t.
Anyway, I have zero desire to get into a Paul vs John argument, which is my least favorite thing about Beatledom, but it hurts my heart when I see anything written that suggests Paul would have said something that unkind about John. Even at the peak of their feud, the worst Paul ever did was write Too Many People, which he even admits in The Lyrics was fairly lame in terms of a diss and the most he could bring himself to do, that his heart wasn’t in slagging John, and which he promptly followed up with Dear Friend.
How do you know it was the worst thing he ever did? Would something so “mild” prompt such a wounded response as How Do You Sleep? I don’t care what innovations Paul kept in his bedroom closet; the fact is he didn’t produce anything as unconventional and experimental as Tomorrow Never Knows, A Day in the Life, I Am the Walrus, Revolution #9 etc. while with the Beatles. He was concerned with getting the A sides. So excuse everyone for thinking John was the avant garde one. If he wasn’t, he certainly was the one with any guts at all.
This is unnecessarily aggressive, in my opinion. I don’t know why people feel the need to create a zero sum game between John and Paul. They were both geniuses that brought incredible gifts to bear on one another’s art. They had a wonderful friendship for many years, and never lost their love for one another (as attested by both, years after their public disagreement).
I also suggest you do some research into Tomorrow Never Knows.
Meaigs, I agree and I think that Lennon and McCartney were a partnership that consistently brought out the best in each other. Making what they did either/or always feels like an oversimplification to me.
John and Paul wrote together and elevated one another even when they weren’t in the same room. I’ve been blessed to spend time in that kind of rare and intense creative partnership, with all its glories and tensions, and that’s how it works and it’s magical and hard to desdribe, I think, if you haven’t experienced it firsthand. It’s like stage telepathy except it’s in the process of creation.
The best description that I’ve found of what it’s like on the inside of that is from one of my favorite pieces of writing about their partnership:
“They tangled around each other, knotwork that John didn’t know how or want to undo. Every word and note was written with the other and if Paul didn’t understand his music, then no one did. The way Paul could hold his music’s core and fill in the blanks of his verse took something too near telepathy for John not to ache for it. It was Lennon/McCartney, even without Paul there, because that’s what they’d become. All mixed up in each other, oil on oil, indiffusible. Irreplaceable. PaulandJohnandJohnandPaul.” (credit: fingersfallingupwards)
Sharing just ‘cuz I think every once inawhile, when we get lost in the petty bickering and pedantics, both HeyDullblog and Beatledom need a little gentle reminding of the poetry of the thing.. 🙂
Aggressive and unnecessary? All I wrote was that MYFN conjures up an image of John that is boorish and unsophisticated (mostly through the words of Paul’s author, mind). The response was that Paul never said that directly but had reason to because, while Paul was busy being the genius in the band, John was sitting at home watching TV, eating cornflakes and tripping on acid, perhaps even at the same time (as if those three things are incompatible). Don’t you think that is a rather simplistic view of John, who was described by many who knew him as being a complex man, including Paul himself before he started revising history? Paul continues the theme by saying in his Lyrics book, directly this time, that “John never had my kind of interest in literature”. An outright lie that Paul fans tried to explain away.
There is more to Tomorrow Never Knows than tape loops.
Michelle, do you hear anyone here saying that Paul “was the genius in the band” and saying that Lennon wasn’t a genius? I don’t.
Here are some of the last lines in the chapter “John” from Many Years From Now (page 596 in the paperback edition I have): “A body of work was produced that I don’t believe he alone could have produced, or I alone could have produced . . . . The truth of the matter is, John and I were kind of equal. It did pan itself out about equal. That’s one of the amazing things about it. People can say, ‘Oh, well, it wasn’t Paul, it was John, or it wasn’t John it was Paul,” but I who was there know that’s not true, the other Beatles know that’s not true. So much of it was team effort, joint effort, there really was so much of it.”
This is consistent with what Lennon also said about their partnership: he pointed out that McCartney and Yoko Ono were the only two people he’d been in full artistic collaboration with and that “that’s not bad picking.”
UPDATE: I’m reading Conversations with McCartney (Du Noyer) and there are stories in there from Paul that I haven’t seen anywhere else, so it’s definitely worth a read.
True, but Spitz is a almost a gonzo biographer, which is my preferred way of experiencing them because for all kinds of reasons, I feel like that’s really the only way to do so in any meaningful way. So he’s more interested in capital T truth than in small t truth, as am I. As far as I know, he and Devin (and hopefully me) are the only mainstream writers doing Beatles gonzo writing.
On the subject of Beatle books, I agree with Faith:
“I’m overall deeply disappointed (and often frustrated) with virtually all available third-party sources I’ve read so far? It all seems to be biased in decades old-confirmation bias and a desire to hold onto an image of the Fabs frozen in the early 70s, cuz of Jann and John.”
I just want the truth, and too many authors have their own biases and agendas. I prefer to stick with books from primary sources.
Regarding this topic, does anyone know what happened to Mark Lewisohn, and Volume 2 of “Tune In”? I know Volume 1 could be a slog to read through, but I enjoyed it and appreciate meticulous research.
Tasmin, I’ve also been wondering about Volume 2 of “Tune In.” I suspect (and this is only a suspicion, based on my sense of Lewisohn, taken from his writing and interviews) that he’s getting bogged down in research. As someone who wrote a dissertation, I’m depressingly familiar with this dynamic.
People who are drawn to researching deeply often struggle to transfer that energy to writing, because there is ALWAYS more research that could be done. I finished my dissertation in large part because I was part of a small group of fellow students who regularly read and commented on each other’s chapters. Having an external deadline really helped me. What Lewisohn is doing is exponentially more complicated than what I did, because he’s dealing with a huge variety of sources, including interviews with people who are still alive. And he’s got to be aware that he’s walking through a minefield of people’s expectations for the book. Whatever he does, some people will love it and others will hate it.
Michael G in a previous thread (can’t currently recall which one) commented on how advances work in publishing, and how the financial structure of a multi-book deal might be affecting Lewisohn. So short answer: I think it’s very complicated.
Thanks Nancy. That makes sense. The amount of research Lewisohn has to do would indeed be overwhelming.
From the sound of some reasonably recent interviews I’ve heard with Lewisohn, he’s pretty confident he’s on track. He’s ended up doing quite a lot of research for volume 3 because of all the anniversaries coming around and opportunities presenting themselves. It sounded to me like he expected volume 2 to come out in 2 to 3 years, and volume 3 in relatively quick succession. (Though he was naturally unwilling to pin down timescales).
(I think one of the interviews was on the Nothing Is Real podcast)
It’s good to hear that Lewisohn thinks he’s on track with the next book, Meaigs. Just imagining the amount of research he must be doing makes me want to lie down!
Me too! He certainly give the impression that he really enjoys the research though.
I’ve often wished he would start a patreon or something, but he said in the same interview that he had considered and dismissed the idea.
I was disappointed to hear that Apple are not cooperating with him. I don’t know the background, but it sounds like George took against him at some stage and Olivia is maintaining the grudge.
“I was disappointed to hear that Apple are not cooperating with him. I don’t know the background, but it sounds like George took against him at some stage and Olivia is maintaining the grudge.”
Yeah, you’re not far off there. He approached this in one or maybe two interviews that I heard in the past (it was a while ago now that I heard these, so I can’t quite recall if it was the one, or two). but, yes, in a nutshell, Lewisohn claimed that – initially, on first meeting George Harrison – everything went along well. It was a friendly exchange, and I think I recall Lewisohn saying that they sat and had a beer together. But then, I think it was the next time they met, Harrison’s greeting was well frosty and this is where the mutterings from George came – along the lines of, ‘journalists/biographers know nothing of my life but they write about us as though they do’ (I’m paraphrasing). Anyway, from what I recall, Lewisohn says that this ‘frostiness’ from George came at about the exact same time that Lewisohn had started working for Paul. So, Lewisohn’s implying that this was the reason perhaps for George’s change of temperature towards him. And yeah, I think Olivia is carrying this on.
Apologies if I’ve remembered this wrong, but that’s pretty much the gist of it there.
@meaigs
In the interviews that you have heard, did he mention hiring a research assistant? I can kinda/sorta understand his reluctance to stand up a Patreon account as he might then feel even greater pressure to get something to market. On the other hand, having a trustworthy and skilled assistant would undoubtedly be of help. I can hardly imagine how scrupulous he must be with every scrap of information that he uncovers.
I wonder what it was that crossed George?
I doubt he could afford a research assistant. He did that tour that was supposed to have the apple meeting tape (Hornsey Road) because he needed some income.
I have the same impression as Mark, that George somehow got the idea that Lewisohn was “a Paul guy”, whereas actually Lewisohn lost the opportunity to write an authorised Paul biography because he disagreed with Paul on some points of historical record.
The hosts of Nothing Is Real brought up Lewisohn’s statements about the Beatles always serendipitously finding the person they needed at the right time, the right photographer, the right roadie, the right manager. They reckon Lewisohn is the right historian, and I think they’re bang on in that analysis.
That is incredibly depressing that Apple is not assisting him. Taking this project on as an independent researcher is daunting indeed.
Patreon or some kind of crowdfunding would be an obvious fix—using money and manpower to make up for any lack of access caused by Apple’s lack of assistance—but given Lewisohn’s age I’m not surprised that he’s not interested; to writers of a certain age it feels like begging (which it isn’t, but that’s how they feel).
What I would like to see is some sort of affiliation with a major University—a biggie like Oxford/Cambridge/Yale/Harvard/Princeton/Stanford. Sic a bunch of PhD students on this and build the definitive archive for Beatles research, to be housed at that University. But it would have to be a big prestigious one, to counterbalance the “pop” nature of the topic.
I agree @Michael, a more formalized archival process at a leading academic center would be better. Putting aside that what he’s taken on is probably realistically too much for one person, it’s always a dicey proposition to put the archiving of history into the hands of one person, no matter how passionate or meticulous.
The Grateful Dead have an archive at UC Santa Cruz, which is, er, not quite the same thing on multiple levels… but it’s a bit of a precedent. “Pop” schmop — their impact on culture elevates them far beyond that (but I take your point about the snobbery).
@Faith, I did not know that about The Dead, but I’m heartened by it. They have always had a very sensible and enlightened view of preservation (their shows, for example).
The Getty Villa up the road in Malibu is an excellent example of what should be created. It is a recreation of the Villa dei Papyri, one of the most important archeological sites of the Classical world; the building houses a priceless collection of Classical artifacts; the amphitheater outside puts on all sorts of shows; and the whole thing is a powerful argument for the continuing importance of the era, its art, and the ideas that motivated both. The Villa is not affiliated with any local University, but it has an institute where scholars visit and do research using the collection.
A Beatles museum would not only be a proper repository for their materials, it would also become a worldwide tourist attraction, would probably have substantial tax benefits to the heirs, and would become a center for study of popular music and the culture of the postwar West.
Today the Beatles are not primarily a commercial entity, but an historical one, and this cultural function will only grow in importance.
Agreed and ARGH @Michael, you now have me seriously thinking about how one could make this happen, because that’s how my mind works… go big or go home…
And yes, this is exactly what’s needed. My concern with Lewisohn is that no matter how thorough he endeavors to be, his single perspective means that there are questions that need to be asked that as far as I can tell no one has yet asked and that won’t be asked and we’re running out of time to ask some of them. Yes, these are things I worry about because, well, see the sub-title of this website.
BTW, I lived just a relative stone’s throw from the Getty Villa for over a decade and never visited (although I’ve been multiple times to the Getty Center.) I had no idea it was an archive as well as an art museum (ot being a big fan of art museums or museums in general). I’m now regretting the omission.
@Faith,
Yes, the Getty collection of classical artwork is so vast that the Villa only displays a small portion of it at a time. Certain pieces are more or less permanent–you see them whenever you go–but about 33% of it is rotating in and out. Plus there are whole new exhibitions several times a year.
My concern with Mark Lewisohn is that he’s approaching this as an author tending a cottage industry–and rightly so, he’s earned it, and there’s nobody better for that–but I sometimes get the whiff of the gentleman scholar from him. The topic is much too big and much too important for that approach at this point. This is in no way a criticism of him, but of how the academy works, especially in the UK.
As the world’s preeminent Beatle scholar, Lewisohn should not have to worry about money, and he should not have to worry about research help. If he were studying another topic, one much less important and much better surveyed–say, medieval music–Lewisohn would be firmly ensconced inside some University, and have that institution’s resources behind him. That he has to 1) get a book deal, 2) live and pay for research from that deal, 3) pay attention to the whims of the publisher in any way, cannot help but slow the project down and distort his conclusions in some way, subtle or not.
Put another way: if this is history, it should be treated as history, and he should have the benefits of an historian–not simply because he’s earned it, but because it would reduce the pressure on him and improve and quicken his work.
It puts me in mind of the excavation of Pompeii, where for the first hundred years digging was “often haphazard and irresponsible, carried out by treasure seekers or other untrained workers.” Lewisohn’s doing everything himself–the digging, cataloguing, interpretation and creating a narrative for the general public. That’s a LOT, and the time it’s taking him between books is showing that it’s a LOT.
He is excavating a part of our world heritage–not merely IP owned by Apple–and the way that’s done most efficiently and systematically in our era is via academics working under the aegis of universities. That the Beatles is “pop culture” is the only reason this is not yet happening, and I sense some academic snobbishness at work. In the US, groups like the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences put up whole museums–I was there this week, looking at Bruce Lee’s nunchuks–whereas something like The Beatles doesn’t have a central place to celebrate and preserve the history? Lewisohn cannot be a substitute for the institution that is needed, nor should he be asked to be.
@Michael Gerber This has been touched on here before, but Lewisohn is also much too invested as a Beatles fan to write a truly objective history (In the next volume, can he please stop calling Ringo ‘Richie’ as though they were best friends?) You can already feel the conflict developing in Volume 1 as he struggles to redact the legend of John Lennon pissing on nuns from the rooftop. Lewisohn does not want to write anything truly negative, and given the darker, more unsavoury undercurrents of the Beatles story as it progresses, it means that you have a fascinating, if less palatable, aspect of their history glossed over or just completely left to gather dust. Maybe Lennon really didn’t piss on those nuns, but as a reader, I was less convinced by the actuality than Lewisohn’s obvious desire to retract an infamous episode for mass consumption. Certainly, I see the value in Lewisohn’s project, and I really want to see him get through the next two volumes. I’m just wary of them being labeled as the definitive last word and all else being relegated to apocrypha.
@Matt, I quite agree with all of this, and it’s a large part of why I think the topic should be studied systematically, not by a single researcher under great pressure to “earn out” his advance.
Matt, I think you’re highlighting the Catch-22 embedded in projects like this: only someone who cares deeply about the person/group being studied is going to take on such a project, and such investment always produces some amount of bias. In the best cases where the effort is being made to produce an objective history, the author is aware of their biases and also has outside readers who can draw attention to places where it’s showing up.
@It might be worth someone putting together a proposal and approaching Paul with it.
He cares deeply about preserving the history, it seems, and now that LIPA is up and running, he needs another tax deduction…
A Beatles library, the equivalent of a presidential library (because they were more influential than the vast majority , if not all, American presidents) I think that would have a great deal of appeal for Sir Paul…
If anybody close to Paul is reading this site: go tell him. Make a library; make it in London or Liverpool or New York or at Friar Park…
FYI Lewisohn also updates on his website. Last I checked, he said he was on track for 2023…. or later.
He emailed back and forth with me a bit on a question awhile back, so it will be my fault if volume 2 is delayed by an additional half an hour…
Thanks Meaigs! I’m so looking forward to reading them!
I think it’s projection to assume George clammed up because of Paul. I mean, it’s a possibility, but based on interviews and things I’ve read about George, he despised gossiping, and had nothing nice to say about the mainstream media. He even released a song called “Devils Radio” about that.
I’m just skeptical of putting the blame on Paul. George was a curmudgeon on his best days.
I’d be curious what year this meeting occurred between Lewisohn and George.
Apologies (attention moderator)… it’s a bugger that I can’t edit what I’ve already posted so that I can correct one or two grammatical errors. So, the above reply I sent, let me correct it here:
Hi Tamsin…If – when you mention ‘the meeting that occurred between Lewisohn and George’ – you’re referring to Harrison’s frostiness towards Lewisohn at around the time that Lewisohn began working for Paul (according to Lewisohn’s estimations in the interview I heard with him and that I mentioned earlier), then I’d guess it would have been around 1987/1988/’89 – during the ‘Flowers in the Dirt’ period, because I think that’s when Lewisohn began working for Paul.
Listening to Lewisohn recalling that ‘frostiness’ during the aforementioned interview(s), he’s angry, annoyed. Not the usually measured Lewisohn. And yes, it could well be that George just didn’t want to talk to him because he was a biographer, although, why was George reportedly friendly to Lewisohn on their previous meeting? I think the Paul angle has to be considered because, it could be that Harrison – on maybe learning that Lewisohn was being employed by McCartney – wasn’t keen to show too much of himself to a paid-up journalist from ‘the Paul camp.’ Remember the ‘Anthology’ and the factions that were built up there between Harrison and McCartney and who they each chose to have on their respective ‘sides’?
Michael wrote:
“That is incredibly depressing that Apple is not assisting him. Taking this project on as an independent researcher is daunting indeed.”
Apple ( Paul, Ringo, Olivia & Yoko) must have decided they want to be the official information resource, unless it comes from one of the Beatles themselves; like Paul’s “Lyrics”. Paul has said all Apple decisions must be approved by all 4 of them, so obviously they have reached some sort of decision about biographical material.
It will be interesting in the future what we can expect from Apple, after the Beatle kids presumably are in charge.
@Matt, I read your response to me on the recent posts page, but it’s not appearing on the story here. Anyway, thanks for the time line of George and Lewisohns meeting.
I agree that George could have been hesitant to speak more with Lewisohn at that time, due to Lewisohns work with Paul. I think the lawsuits between the Beatles were still going on, and also, Paul had refused to appear at the Beatles induction to the R&R Hall of Fame in ‘88. So, there was some tension definitely between George and Paul.
That’s why I wanted to know the time line, because by the time Anthology was completed, I think the two men (P & G) had buried the hatchet. At least that’s what I have read.
@ Tamisin: “Matt, I read your response to me on the recent posts page, but it’s not appearing on the story here. Anyway, thanks for the time line of George and Lewisohns meeting.
I agree that George could have been hesitant to speak more with Lewisohn at that time, due to Lewisohns work with Paul. I think the lawsuits between the Beatles were still going on, and also, Paul had refused to appear at the Beatles induction to the R&R Hall of Fame in ‘88. So, there was some tension definitely between George and Paul.
That’s why I wanted to know the time line, because by the time Anthology was completed, I think the two men (P & G) had buried the hatchet. At least that’s what I have read.”
Thanks for the reply, Tamsin, and yeah, I never factored in the infamous R&R Hall of Fame incident in ’88 when Paul didn’t attend but all the others did.
I dunno though, did George really bury the hatchet with Paul after Anthology? When I watch the footage of ‘the Threetles’ talking together in the Anthology, I always get the impression that George was being a bit tense and – dare I express(?) – ‘pissy’ towards Paul. However, George could be a bit that way with any one, and he did have a bit of a light-hearted jibe at Ringo too in the Anthology – something about older guys and their hair dye.
My impression is that Paul and George were not on particularly good terms during the Anthology period. Or that’s to say, George was not on good terms with Paul.
George was drawn into the project reluctantly due to money problems and responded typically by being prickly and difficult. This was especially a problem when it came to collaborating on the reunion songs. George still had a massive chip on his shoulder about working with Paul for one (although Paul made a major concession to George in allowing Jeff Lynne to produce), and he didn’t like the Lennon demos either, so that purported further work had to be abandoned. George was also vocal about vetoing certain tracks from the Anthology albums. So all in all, I don’t think Paul and George ended that phase on a positive note. They do seem to have made peace before George passed away however.
@Matt, yes I’ve read all that too. To be honest, I don’t think we know the whole story. I think there were tensions during Anthology as you wrote, but then I’ve read other accounts that things were good.
I watched a video on YouTube of Jeff Lynne talking about working on “Free As A Bird”, and “Real Love”.
He says it was a pleasant, good experience for all of them. He says George and Paul were happy recording backing vocals.
Then, I’ve seen pictures of George and Paul during Anthology that Linda took, with George smiling with his arm around Paul, and the 3 Beatles laughing and goofing around.
So, as all things Beatles, it’s complicated. I don’t think it was all good or all bad.
@Matt
I’m just an outsider looking in of course, but yes, I agree Matt. from my outsider’s perspective, Jeff Lynne’s production role for ‘the Threetles’ was a major concession on Paul’s part. I might be wrong of course, but it was a bit unreasonable of George to make this demand because it was unfair and disjointed towards the ethos of the Anthology project as a whole. I mean, the Anthology documentary, CD releases and packaging was – overall – faithful to how things operated back in the days when The Beatles were together, for example, in the interview segments of the documentary not only did we have the four Beatles contributing their comments but also the insiders, Neil Aspinall and Derek Taylor (and Mal and Brian would almost certainly have been in it too had they survived to tell the tale), when it came to the CD cover artwork, old friend Klaus was brought in to lend a hand, so, it should only go that George Martin should have been central to the ‘Threetles’ reunion tracks? Yeah, if I’m not mistaken (correct me if I’m wrong), reports at the time stated that Martin couldn’t participate in this anyway because his ears were failing him, but I’m not so sure that was actually true and could indeed have been a cover-story to hide the demands of George who wanted Lynne and most certainly not Martin (and which was a bad decision to my ears because it made ‘Free As A Bird’ and ‘Real Love’ sound like ELO – or in other words – a Beatles tribute-band instead of the actual Beatles).
Apologies if I’m going off tangent here.
Incidentally, I’ll just throw in a bit of a hot one; if the Anthology really, truly wanted to get the story of ALL the Beatles, then it should’ve included another ex-Beatle… Pete Best!
George Martin produced a new version of “Grow Old With Me” for the Lennon Anthology around the same time as the Beatles Anthology, so the notion that his ears failing was not exactly true has some merit.
There are several pics of George Martin at the Anthology sessions. Here’s one:
https://images.app.goo.gl/V9DMM6K99b62rosv7
I read Martin was not upset that Jeff Lynne produced the new songs for Anthology. He more than anyone would have understood the tensions that existed between Paul and George, and the part he played by being close to Paul.
Again, I think we project what we suppose to be true, but we don’t know the whole story.
George later said he’d enjoyed doing the Anthology, even though he’d started out as a reluctant participant. Maybe doing it together, sifting through the past, helped them close the gap over time? The album Paul made afterwards, Flaming Pie, has the song “Souvenir,” which to my ears — I don’t know if this is a common take or not — seems like a message to George. The lyrics are worth checking out.
The next big thing that happened was Linda dying. That, too, may have encouraged George to get the fuck over it.
I hear Souvenir the same way Katya.
@ Katya :
You know, to me, when I’ve heard ‘Souvenir,’ I’ve always taken it to be Paul thinking back to the ’60s and his sessions with the Beatles, firstly, because he’d just come off the back of ‘Anthology,’ so I just assumed he was – as a result – harking back to and inspired by those heady days of the Sixties (and this is what we’ve been told too, with regards to him recording and writing for ‘Flaming Pie’). The other reason I assumed (perhaps wrongly) that Paul is harking back to those decades gone by is because – in the lyrics – he mentions ‘smoking a pipe’… VERY Sixties – In other words, I’m assuming that the contents of those pipes were of a herbal nature! Not to say of course that the guys wouldn’t partake in the early ’90s!
@ Tamsin :
Yeah, perhaps George Martin wasn’t upset that he wasn’t included in the recording of ‘the Threetles’ reunion singles, but, personally, I don’t think that him not being upset makes it okay that he wasn’t included, that’s if I’m to assume that the ‘Anthology’ was indeed trying to work within an ethos of it being a faithful return to the ‘inner circle’ of The Beatles as it was in the Sixties. So, if Derek Taylor was a talking head in the documentaries as was Neil, and Klaus got some involvement in the CD artwork, shouldn’t George Martin have gotten a bit of a space too, aside from his involvement in the digging up of the old tapes for the Anthology albums? Yeah, sure, Martin didn’t physically produce ALL of The Beatles’ recordings (such as songs on The White Album where Chris Thomas took the helm amongst others, and of course ‘Let It Be’), so why should he physically produce Free As A Bird and Real Love, however, he did oversee The White Album and Let It Be, irrespective of who actually was there in the studio at the time tending to the recordings, so couldn’t he have overseen Free As A Bird and Real Love too? Maybe I’m taking this George Martin/Anthology ‘ethos thing’ of mine too far down the road, I mean, it’s not really THAT important an issue, it’s just that, as a concept, the Anthology does a disservice and isn’t entirely honourable to what made The Beatles succeed as recording artists by marginalising a central figure such as Martin.
@ Michelle:
Martin producing ‘Grow Old with Me’ is an interesting point.
Is “Friends to Go” about George? I thought Paul mentioned him as an inspiration. But the line, “I’ve been waiting on the other side for your friends to go so I don’t have to hide; I’d prefer they didn’t know” reminds me of his ’81 Hunter Davies interview where he says, “I have some juicy stuff I could tell about John. But I wouldn’t. Not while Yoko’s alive – or Cynthia.” That quote has caused many McLennonites to want to put a hit out on Yoko, if they didn’t already.
@Michelle, “Friends to Go” is an interesting song. Paul says he wrote it with George’s spirit, that it wasn’t him writing it.
I do kinda look at the song as a comment on Paul and George’s relationship in the 90s. There are a couple of data points that suggest that they were closer in private than they appeared publicly — Olivia defended Paul in the press, Dhani refers to Stella as his “sister,” Paul jammed with George on the uke at Friar Park and had a special left-handed uke on site, Clapton said in Rolling Stone that the person on stage who missed George the most at the Concert for George was Paul — and that’s before you get to George dying in a house Paul was renting. Or Paul, but not Ringo, attending Klaus Voorman’s private service for George. Public distance, but private closeness.
“Friends to Go” fits exactly that — public distance, private closeness. Two friends want to hang out, but they can’t right then because one of them is hanging out with his other friends, and neither wants those other friends to know that they’re going to hang out. Paul could hang out with Ringo. George could hang out with Ringo. Paul and George didn’t hang out publicly. That doesn’t mean they didn’t get together in more private settings.
I’ve heard the story that Paul is in George’s “When We Was Fab” video — and the Walrus is a deliberate misdirect. That Paul was filmed separately and inserted in. I’d like to believe it. It wouldn’t surprise me if it were true. It also wouldn’t surprise me if Paul and George made ghost appearances on each other’s albums a couple of times.
I like that, @Allyn. George, who was an avid gardener, also gave Paul a sapling. It has grown tall now and Paul says he always thinks of George when he walks by it. It’s a nice thought. They were friends longer than John and Paul were.
@matthew sergiou: A souvenir is a token of the past — the song is certainly about the Beatles years, since that’s the part of Paul’s past that he’d just been reviewing. But it’s directed to someone: “If you want me, tell me now/If I can be of any help, tell me how/Let me love you like a friend…” And “I can hold you too tight/I could never let you go, but that wouldn’t be right…”
I think it’s about readjusting relationships by giving up the past — or not staying trapped in the roles played in the past.
I thought the line about the pipe was from The Song We Were Singing.
@Michelle:
“I thought the line about the pipe was from The Song We Were Singing.”
Yes, hi Michelle. you beat me to it there! I was going to correct myself earlier! Yes of course, the ‘pipe’ reference is from ‘The Song We Were Singing.’
@Katya
I see what you mean about ‘Souvenir.’
After giving it a bit of thought after reading your thoughts on that song, I was actually thinking the lyrics might have been directed towards his love and support of – if not George – then Linda and what she might have been going through at that time after being diagnosed with cancer. But then again if that was the case, why would he sing the words, “let me love you like a friend” to her?
“neither wants those other friends to know that they’re going to hang out. Paul could hang out with Ringo. George could hang out with Ringo. Paul and George didn’t hang out publicly. ”
Very interesting, @Allyn! What do you think would have been their reasons for the subterfuge?
I have read, that Paul, George and Ringo all met for a very pleasant dinner two or three nights before Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, everyone got along well, had a nice time—that’s why the others were confused as to why, at the last moment, Paul didn’t attend the ceremony.
I ran across this lovely quote: “There’s always a place in my heart for Paul… and Linda.” – George Harrison, Musician, March 1990—
That’s a good question, @Annie, and I don’t know that I can answer it without getting really speculative.
I love the Rutles, and one of the things that interests me is the reactions of the four Beatles to the film. John loved it, and he wouldn’t return the tape. Ringo loved it, but the ending made him sad. George, of course, was in it. And Paul… didn’t like it. Neil Innes heard, presumably through Mike McCartney, that Paul didn’t like it. Neil saw Paul at an event, went to apologize, and Paul assured Neil that his problem wasn’t with the him and the music. The problem was with Eric, and things were frosty between Paul and Eric. The interesting detail of that story? Paul and Neil’s conversation happened at Friar Park and one of George’s parties.
Reading Peter Doggett’s You Never Give Me Your Money paints a picture of Paul and George’s relationship in the post-Beatles years, particularly post-1974, that seems to be warmer than I expected. We’re familiar with the comments by George over the years that Paul was mean to him, that he would never want Paul to play bass with him again, that Paul had never wanted to record with him before so why should he now. Yet, at the same time, there are anecdotes in Doggett’s book like George calling up Paul and Ringo in the middle of the night to tell them that he has a plan that they all run for political office and it would be great. Publicly, George is grumpy and distant with Paul. Privately, he’s imploring Paul to run for political office. There seems to be a disconnect.
I have no doubt there was genuine friction between the two men, and some of it wasn’t resolved until the Anthology; the Geoff Wonfor anecdote about Paul and George watching interview footage together, and this was the first time Paul was hearing how George really felt about certain things, is really key here. At the same time, they had known each other since they were kids, and George, having known Paul so well and for so long, knew how to prickly and get under Paul’s skin and not actually mean anything by it. Some of it might’ve been an act; I can see them having a laugh over making the world think they hated each other.
At the same time, they really did grow apart in the 70s because life took them in different directions. They traveled in different circles, they were living adult lives, Paul had a family, eventually George did, too. Relationships evolve over time, and I can think of a George interview circa 1982 where George says that he and Paul were rekindling their friendship after not really interacting for a few years.
Maybe, after several years of the world thinking they weren’t on friendly terms anymore, they decided to keep up that facade. Or maybe, after becoming two of the most famous people in the world, they liked the anonymity of a rekindled private friendship.
I could even venture an incredibly charitable reading of Paul’s non-appearance at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction, that it wasn’t about being Paul sued by George, Ringo, and Yoko at all but about Paul wanting George and Ringo to get the spotlight to themselves. But that reading is so far removed from what’s been reported over the years that I can’t make myself believe that one. 🙂
Paul’s song Secret Friend makes sense to me now. 🙂
@Michael
I second your motion for a library. Paul could, and very much should, make the call for a center of scholarship and a repository of pertinent material.
I know I beat this drum all too frequently, but Paul needs to realize that his legacy has spilled the banks far beyond just him as a person/artist and that scholars, researchers, and skilled musical and cultural writers should have a place to gather and study what he put in motion all those years ago.
We are at that important 50 year passage of time that allows a broad view of the events. Organizing as much material as possible in one place would obviously benefit scholars in their work of unpacking those events and their lasting influences.
Second. I know that there are young scholars (Erin Weber among others for example) who are applying rigorous methods to the study of the four, the musical and cultural seas in which they swam, and their respective solo and collective legacies. Not only should these scholars be encouraged in their pursuits, but equally important they should be supported. A fellowship or visiting scholar position at a library or research center would be one way in which to do this.
Perhaps my frustration in this area is misplaced, but we know of many famous and wealthy individuals who claim to be ardent Beatles fans. Paul could, seemingly, work with them to start a library– all he has to do is to put out the call. Am I missing something in asking if it can really be that hard or is he simply not cognizant of how broad and deep the influences that he and his colleagues had and still have?
Your point is well made that this idea probably did not have purchase within the academy because the study of “pop” was shunned for any number of reasons. Yet in 2022 one would hope that these reasons no longer have purchase as we now have 50 years of deep cultural and musical threads to unpack.
The time is now Sir Paul. I admire that you are still bringing great joy to audiences, but there is one more thing that you could do for history’s sake and that is to bequeath a library.
I love the idea of a library like this, but I wonder if McCartney would rather see Apple (whatever coalition of the Beatles and their wives and heirs) do this as a joint project. If he spearheaded it I think he’d be accused by some people of “taking over,” and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s wary of that.
Really I hope Apple/the families will do something like this before it’s too late. But the profit motive for everyone is powerful, and I don’t know how closely the various representatives see their interests aligning. Reading Peter Doggett’s You Never Give Me Your Money was a powerfully depressing look at the details of all that.
I’ve been thinking about this and I’m realizing, what would even be in the library? It’s not like a presidential library where there are a lot of papers other than lyrics and studio logs.
I wonder if a better idea might be an online archive? It could include all of those things, plus it could include transcripts and links to oral stories, which is probably mostly what there would be. Photos of memorabilia and such.
That seems a lot more doable and it would be a lot more accessible as well.
@Nancy, my guess is that the 50th or the various LPs, plus Get Back, represents the final flash of cash. What’s left to monetize? I think when Paul and Ringo die, they’ll sell the catalog, and get all the money without the hassle of management.
At that point, I would expect they’d all be facing a massive tax bill, and donating papers and effects would be a great way to defray that. So I actually think financial concerns might be the primary driver of setting up a dedicated museum/institute.
@Faith, all the Beatles have generated MOUNTAINS of paper documents, easily as much as (for example) the JFK Museum in Boston, for example. There are teams of footage, tapes that need preservation,a mountain of memorabilia in private collections which will all be looking for a home after the Boomers die and it becomes much less saleable.
As to an online archive, any library of this type would digitize portions of its collection, and that would be a good thing. But putting something online is the opposite of preserving it, since most tech is proprietary and changes. Libraries endlessly fret that the archives of authors who wrote after the advent of computers are partially inaccessible now because (for example) the disk format used by the Timex-Sinclair word processor in 1984 is no longer made.
Plus, the point of a museum/library/collection for a popular subject like this isn’t to give everyone with an internet connection access to Paul’s private correspondence. It’s to spur scholarly research in the topic, and prevent the kind of deepfake nonsense that is coming.
It’s not a question as to whether someone will control the Beatles’ story in 50 years—only whether it’s an academic-style institution, with clear intents and little profit motive, or a billionaire crank with an agenda, or some group of websites that leverage an attractive story for clicks. Of those three, I think the first is preferable. The internet is demonstrating daily that “citizen scholarship” is usually of very low quality, fundamentally narcissistic, and uncheckable because of its vast quantity. We already have free access ti an amount of primary sources, and people are simply making whatever story they wish. They will always do that, but I for one would take some comfort in knowing that in 500 years, the story won’t simply be what was loudest or most titillating.
Speaking of libraries/museums, I recently read Bob Dylan has opened one. Well, the millionaire he sold his archives to, did.
“The Bob Dylan Center is a museum in Tulsa, Oklahoma dedicated to the life and works of American singer-songwriter Bob Dylan. The museum opened to the public on May 10, 2022. In 2016, Dylan sold his archive to the Tulsa-based George Kaiser Family Foundation and the University of Tulsa. Wikipedia”
I guess the Beatles could do something like this; or their heirs. I just don’t see Paul being keen to sell the Beatles archives. It’s complicated.
This is specifically what the Beatles SHOULDN’T do. They should not sell their materials to an individual or corporation. They should create a foundation, which they control, affiliate with a major research university, and realize “gains” from the charitable donations offsetting their income.
I am sure there are lots of meetings being held at Apple and within the families to try to sort all this out. The best scenario would be a Getty-like foundation centered at Friar Park, London, New York, or Liverpool. The worst would be each Beatle’s archives being sold to a separate person, with a hundred years before someone recollected all the materials under one roof. That’s how stuff gets lost.
I know Mark Lewisohn’s trying to create his own library of the many documents etc. he’s using for in his biography series, just to make it easier. Were the Beatles to open an archive, that’d be a great starting point.
Yes, and a great payday for a man who surely deserves one!
@ Harry Thornton: “I know Mark Lewisohn’s trying to create his own library of the many documents etc. he’s using for in his biography series, just to make it easier. Were the Beatles to open an archive, that’d be a great starting point.”
Hi Harry. From what I recall in an interview or two, Lewisohn did say he has made arrangements for all his Beatles research material (documents, etc) to be donated on his passing to – I think he’s said – the British Library in London.
Somewhat relevant: Liverpool University Press is starting The Journal of Beatles Studies
https://www.liverpooluniversitypress.co.uk/journals/id/113/
“Liverpool University Press is delighted to announce the launch of a brand new open access journal, The Journal of Beatles Studies. Co-edited by Holly Tessler (University of Liverpool) and Paul Long (Monash University) the journal will be published twice a year, with the inaugural issue being in September 2022. The journal is sponsored by the University of Liverpool library. “
A wonderful development!
Reshaping history in his own image. Yes, I can see that. Best to leave it to impartial scholars who are unconcerned about their own legacy.
@Neal, I think the problem is probably that each of the four Beatles/estates have their own ideas about how/who to employ. The last Beatle standing may have the most leverage. As long as the collection is combined, and preserved, the jockeying will recede into the past.
But yes, Erin (who used to comment here) is precisely the kind of scholar who would put such an archive to its best use, and surely deserves all the fellowships and visiting scholar positions that could be created. Devin McKinney, too.
So… an archive run by a fresh committee, then? A new four-must-agree situation, with the new assigns being those who are employed by each slice, and the “how” being their mutual decision?
No, no, no.
Following the death of all the principals, their heirs license the catalog to some huge ass corporation (I bet it will be Disney), in exchange for an ungodly sum. To keep more of that money, they donate archives and effects to a tax-deductible foundation, affiliated with and run by a major research university.
Which would then be run by scholars. The donors, having donated and been well compensated for doing so, would have no direct control—though surely their wishes would be a non-zero factor, as with any donors.
I’ve always been a huge fan if Linda’s, really every guy needs someone like her by their side.
Paul wanted the wife, mother, that close knit quaint traditional family (basically what he sings about in Obla Di Obla Da, When I’m 64) but he also was a performer and who was eager to get out in front of crowds again, soak up the adulation, and prove himself as a solo performer…and he wanted to take that whole idyllic family that he always wanted down from Cambletown and take it on the road with him. He wanted to be the present, involved dad who doesnt miss a thing, as well as the legendary touring rock star.
That’s a lot to ask of Linda(and on top of it all her having to learn and perform live), even with all the $ in the world being able to ease the stresses and strains of life on the road as a family. How many people could make it happen for Paul as Linda did? Not many. She was a remarkable woman
As I mentioned elsewhere I had great luck in a second hand book shop the other day. One of my finds was Linda McCartney the Biography by Danny Fields. I can honestly say it’s a must-read for Beatles fans. One thing that’s becoming clear to me (I’m a little over half way through) is that there’s a dimension to Paul’s drubbing by the rock press that I’ve never seen mentioned elsewhere. Linda was embedded in the New York rock scene, and when she married Paul she dropped those friends entirely. (Fields theorises it was in legal advice from her father). That must surely have significantly soured their public takes on what Paul and Linda did.
@meaigs, would you be willing to write up your most interesting discoveries from that biography?
That’s a really good insight and makes some sense.
For sure.
I also have a piece written that I’d like to send on, but I’m not sure your contact form is working. Can you send me an email and let me know where to send it?
Just sent! Looking forward to reading it —
[…] in April, I wrote a piece for Hey Dullblog about Paul’s choice to put Linda in his band (“I’m Gonna Go WIth Linda on Keyboards”). It included this […]