Calabrie - Calabrie

Tony Bramwell on Brian:

- Brian dropped in at the Cavern and, spoiled for choice, fell in love at first sight with each of the Beatles in turn

- Brian almost promised to love, honour and obey them.

- He never publicly showed his embarrassment with poor deals, but one could tell something wasn’t right because inside, he anguished. Chewed his knuckles and grew pale.

- He was a fiercely loyal and honourable friend to those he loved, and ruthless toward those he despised

- He was shy to the point of blushing and stammering, and theatrical to the point of ranting and frothing at the mouth

- His biggest problem, perhaps his only real problem, was that he was homosexual in a still very unenlightened era. It kept getting in the way. Whenever he sat down for a meeting with heavyweights like Sir Joseph Lockwood at EMI, or whoever, he felt they all knew. “They’re talking behind my back, Tony,” Brian said. “They don’t respect me.”

- Paul was fond of Brian and thought he was the best possible manager: one who was courteous, who didn’t interfere with their private lives, but achieved all he said he would do. He never criticized him—none of us did. Brian was a god.  (It was only later that the façade cracked a bit, but even then we loved him. He was like family, and you accept your family for what they are and forgive them most anything.)

- his wonderfully fertile mind continuously thinking up innovative ideas and then worrying about them

- Brian was so different when around his beloved protégés. He became one of them. He was a friend, a chum, charming, trustworthy and kind. He set out to do what he promised and they all said it would never have happened without him.

- Brian bought an off-the-shelf company named Suba Films, which I virtually ran. It was way ahead of its time, the only independent company in England making music videos

- Whenever things got raunchy and out of hand around us, he would make his excuses and leave. At times, he almost ran.

- [on writing his biography]: “You don’t think John will think I’m raining on his parade, do you?” he asked hesitantly.

- I believe that Brian’s paranoia over the Beatles’ contract and his heavy use of drugs led him to think that it was only a matter of time before everything came tumbling down and he would be left standing in the ruins, with people pointing their fingers like kids in a playground.

- He was seriously ill and desperately sought to escape from the circus of his own creation.

- He was tormented by the idea of letting down his beloved Cilla and the Beatles, particularly John.

- He underwent deep sleep therapies at the Priory, being put under for days at a time with heavy drugs.

- Whether he managed the Beatles or not, he would still get 25 percent of their earnings from record sales for nine years. This subtlety had somehow escaped the Beatles, but it bothered Brian. It gnawed at his conscience because in his heart he knew he had conned them.

- [He] was abnormally distressed, convincing himself that they weren’t going to sign up again because they loathed him. Going through months of paranoia, he looked for reasons and forlornly asked the question, “Don’t they like me anymore?”

- It was so silly because it wasn’t like that at all. At different times, all of them commented to me that they would never have signed another contract as “Beatles” but they would have signed individually with Brian.

- “No, I think John hates me now. I don’t know what I’ll do if they don’t sign. What will people think? I can see the headlines now: EPSTEIN DUMPED BY BEATLES.”

- He was now seriously unhappy, not just troubled. His personality had radically changed.

- Brian had resident nurses, doctors who stayed, psychiatrists who lived in, all crowded into that little doll’s house, getting on each other’s nerves. At times he’d make an effort. He would sweet-talk everyone and then escape when they weren’t looking.

- [after Brian's death] Joanne was in shock. She had seen him first. The doors had been broken down and there he was, curled up on his side in bed with Saturday’s mail lying next to him. “We all knew at once that he was dead, but I heard myself say, ‘It’s all right, he’s just asleep. He’s fine,’ ” she said.

- It was unbelievable that the man who had got all this going—the vast money-making machine and the culture shock that had changed the world—was gone.

- The Summer of Love was over and autumn coming.

- I have been asked many times why it was that the Beatles didn’t just hire an office manager to handle their business affairs and pay him or her a salary. It would have made sense. But it never occurred to them. They just went blindly on, trying to find someone to replace Brian, like it was some kind of law. They seemed to think that they had to have a manager, to whom they had to give 25 percent of their gross income, or they’d be arrested or drummed out of the Brownies.

you should def draw brian for maximum love healing and strength !!! 🙂‍↕️ <333

I sweaaaaar I swear I read this story about Brian sneaking into a beatles concert to fangirl along with the audience am I insane did I get this from midas man. Either way here's our man having the time of his life

what’s the best sterek fanfic you’ve ever read?

where my ringo enjoyers at ?!

January 13th, 1969 (Twickenham Studios, London): As Paul encourages an unconfident Ringo to go ahead with his plans to record a solo LP, John hedgingly brings up his own apprehensions about following his instincts (especially when he’s not even sure what he really wants to do). In their inimitable and emotionally non-committal fashion, John and Paul engage in metaphors about intentions, conveying these intentions in actions, and how these actions may be conveyed by those who see it. (Basically: what John and Paul talk about when they talk about love.)

PAUL: [to Ringo] The great thing is that you singing like how you really sing – will be it. It will be! 

RINGO: Yes, but the only way is to do it on your own. 

PAUL: Until then – yeah, sure. Until then – until you reach how you really sing, you’ll sing your half-soul. 

RINGO: Yeah. 

PAUL: And it’s probably when we’re all very old, that we’ll all sing together. 

RINGO: Yeah.

PAUL: And we’ll all really sing, and we’ll all show each other how good we are, and in fact we’ll die, then, I don’t know. [Linda laughs; diffident] Probably, you know, probably something sappy or soft like that… I don’t know, but really, I mean, i– it’s really down to all those sort of simple, silly things to me. 

YOKO: But those are the important things, you know. 

PAUL: It’s got to be simple. It’s got to be simple. It can’t be A plus B equals X plus Y plus Z, because that’s them, you know. And it couldn’t be— 

JOHN: [quiet] Maybe that’s what’s evading me. 

PAUL: Yes. [sincere] But it’s okay, that, you know. 

JOHN: [hesitating] I just, uh… because I’m not really sure what or how I feel about it. 

PAUL: No, but you’re—

JOHN: Because any time— 

PAUL: You’re unsure because you’re not sure whether to go left or right on an issue. You’ve noticed the two ways open to us. You know the way we all want to go. And you know the way you want to go. Which is positive! ‘Cause you want to go – now, okay. So your positive thing might actually be to kick that telephone box in. It might occasionally be to do that. So you know that’s the way you’ve gotta go.  

YOKO: Everybody would want to see that, actually.

PAUL: But you don’t want to actually look like you’re kicking the telephone box in. So you have to sort of say to everyone, “Look at that over there, everyone!” And while they’re not looking, you’ll kick the telephone box in, and sort of— [whistles innocently] 

JOHN: I don’t think that’s a fair representation. [laughs] 

PAUL: [conceding] Oh, well, it involves me, that’s me. I do that, too. And I think we all do that. But I think the answer is, that – while you’ve got us all looking at nothing over there, and you’ve thrown us for a minute, we would actually all have dug to see you kick that telephone box in.  Because we wanna see you do it. 

YOKO: But we’d have to say it too, though. That’s another thing. 

Keep reading

Any Day Now, Bob Dylan's songs sung by Joan Baez, 1969. Cover design and illustrations by Joan Baez. x

Int: It’s possible - you know this as well as anybody does. It’s possible that all of you will be best known not for your individual work but because you were Beatles. Does that trouble you at all?

George: No, not at all because who are we anyway, you know? I mean, even if they knew me as me - George Harrison - they don’t really know me. It doesn’t matter what they remember you for. It’s really what you attain for your own personal self that counts. 

“Y’know, it’s something that other people see us as The Beatles, and I try to see us as The Beatles, but I can’t.” - Scene and Heard (1967)  

“To be able to deal with these people thinking you were some wonderful thing - it was difficult to come to terms with. I was feeling, you know, like nothing. Even now I look back and see, relative to a lot of other groups, The Beatles did have something. But it’s a bit too much to accept that we’re supposedly the designers of this incredible change. In many ways we were just swept along with everybody else.” -  Rolling Stone (1987)

“I don’t mean to sound mysterious or try to baffle anyone, but when people come up to me expecting me to be just like what they thought a Beatle would be, they’re disappointed. I never was a Beatle, except musically. I don’t think any of us was. What is a Beatle anyway? I’m not a Beatle or an ex-Beatle or even the George Harrison. I’m just a man. Very ordinary.” - Men Only (1978)

“Like Chance, the main character in Being There (one of George’s favorite books), he wanted to just ‘be there’ in his garden, in his solitude, with his hands in the dirt. He didn’t want to ‘be’ anything but a man who loved music, the earth, women, and God.” - Chris O’Dell

we as a fandom really underexamine how often crushing loneliness is a recurring theme in paul’s songwriting