I’ve Only Listened One Time To Paul’s New Single, “Get Enough,” Which He Released On Midnight

Pattie Remembers George

Q: “Was it heartbreaking to fall out of love with George Harrison? I mean, to fall in love with him is an amazing story.” Pattie Boyd: “Oh, it was heartbreaking, of course it was. You know, it was like… I was losing someone who was my best friend and who I adored, and we learnt an awful lot of very important things, issues, during our time together. We learnt them together. So this is something one will never forget.” Q: “What did he teach you, and what did you teach him?” PB: “No, we both learnt together. We learnt, you know, about art, about film making, about meditation, about all sorts of things.” - BBC Radio, September 2019 “I think probably the memory that will always remain with me is when he came to see me not long before he passed away. And he came over to my cottage and wanted to see the garden and wanted to see my darkroom because I’d been doing some printing, and, um, he wanted to see the flowers. And he said — he saw some flowers, tiny little flowers that were growing in a crack in the pavement, and the wind was blowing them. He referred to them as ‘shivering flowers,’ and I thought, ‘Oh God, that’s so sweet.’ He just had a wonderful view, and he used such a different language to describe what he was feeling or thinking. And, you know, he brought me a little gift, a little something for my studio, a little Krishna. And, you know, he was just always generous and kind and sweet and always had a good sense of humor.”

Pattie Boyd (on how she best remembers George), Every Little Thing With Ken Michaels, February 2019

Interviewer: When you look back on all of that now, how does it seem to you?

Pattie Boyd: It feels as if, I’m living, a second life now. That was such a- almost like a fantasy life.

Interviewer: Do you miss it?

Pattie Boyd: Sometimes I do. Yes.

divassssssssssss 👑

you know how being songwriting partners is like marriage and songwriting is like sex and making an album is like being pregnant and songs are like your children. i don't even have anything to add to this it's just like. ok! yeah! what more can any of us do with this? you said it, man. sure!

This is one of my favourite John & Paul moments ever, because John was shitting himself going on that tour, I mean he had that breakdown in front of Brian and Tony where cried and begged them, ”Whatever you want me to say I’ll say it” - and here’s Paul, taking no prisoners, and just smugly declaring “oh no, no it’ll be absolutely fine, just you fucking watch you sensationalising bastards.”

You're telling me being in close proximity to this in his teens and twenties meant nothing to John Lennon, a man fighting bisexuality? Sure. Sure. Let's just go out and tell lies.

Sections of Ticket To Ride, by Larry Kane, which address anti-Semitism:

Early in the '64 tour:

About an hour into the flight, a word reached my ears that I couldn't ignore. In everyone's life, there are certain words that spark instant revulsion. I raised my head from my book and my mind raced quickly, along with the beat of my heart, when I heard the word kike. Worse yet, the ethnic slur came from the rear, where the Beatles and Derek Taylor were sitting. I didn't race to conclusions. After all, I could have misunderstood what was being said. I bit my lip and hoped I was wrong. Then I heard the word again, this time in part of a sentence, "The kike did---" I heard, though I couldn't be sure whose voice had said it. Although it's hardly part of the current hate vernacular, the word was used generously by bigots in the 1960s.

Irritated, disappointed and agitated, I got up from my seat and approached the rear, about five rows back. My growing-up years, especially those I had spent in suburban Miami, had sensitised me to words that hurt. And this hurt, especially at the time and place.

I approached the opening to the Beatles' small compartment, stuck my head in, and blurted out "Listen, I just want to say that I heard a word that really pisses me off. I'm Jewish, and I won't stand for that crap. I mean, whoever said it, can't you think before you talk?"

The beatles, Derek Taylor and Malcolm Evans looked startled. Sheepishly, without the courage to wait for an answer, I returned to my seat, figuring that the outburst would end my travels with the band, or at the least would rupture the rapport I had established in just a few days.

Minutes passed. The Derek Taylor came forward and knelt alongside my aisle seat. He said "Look, I'm really sorry. It came from me. It's just a word that is used quite casually in English life and I didn't mean anything." I replied, "But you didn't say it." I knew the voice hadn't been his. "What do you mean?" "I mean you didn't say it." Derek smiled. "Doesn't matter. It was said nonetheless. I'm sorry."

At that point I felt foolish about the whole thing. But I also knew that if I had let it go and ignored the slight, I could not have lived with myself the rest of the tour.

Minutes later, Lennon came over and sat down. I don't remember our exact words, but we had a relaxed and compassionate conversation about the roots of prejudice in Liverpool. It was a good talk. As we spoke, Ringo and George walked by. Ringo gave a wink, and George just said, "How you doing, Larry." Paul didn't make a special trip. He did pass by on the way to the bathroom and said "Great working with you, Larry." It was, I interpreted, his way of smoothing the episode over.

I felt good, but still self-conscious that I had responded so aggressively. Whatever the roots of the prejudice and whatever the reasons someone had spoken that word, I knew I would never hear it again for the remainder of the tour. And this incident did something else; it showed me that the Beatles possessed genuine compassion and feeling.

Two years later Derek [...] brought up the subject. I had long forgotten, but Derek had not. He confirmed that he wasn't the one who had said the word and that the boys had been embarrassed. When I asked him who'd said it, he changed the subject.

_____

Towards the end of the '65 tour Brian Epstein invited Larry for drinks in his rented cottage:

As the conversation progressed, I realised that I was serving as a depository for some pent up, constrained feelings. I listened intently as he expressed concern that he was losing his grip on John and maybe the whole group and described his fear that, without his presence, the Beatles' unity would divide into four separate camps. His words would be prophetic, but he didn't imagine that his own death would be a catalyst in realising those predictions.

I was surprised as Epstein described a growing paranoia. He looked pained when he described an awareness of the boys talking behind his back. He assumed that they were laughing at him. I told him I had never heard or seen anything like that. I could imagine that happening, but I was hardly an expert on their private behaviour and of course didn't make any guesses with him. [...]

And then, much to my astonishment, he addressed a subject close to my heart - anti-Semitism. This scourge was commonplace in industrial Liverpool in the forties and fifties, he said, creating a cloud of resentment that he unmistakably felt, even around entertainers. "Are the Beatles anti-Semitic?" I inquired.

"I don't think so," he said, "But it was always around them, so it may be in them." I never told him about the incident on the plane in 1964.

Jimi Hendrix in Ringo Starrs apartment in 1968

him sleeping with that crochet stuffed animal is one of my favorite photos of him, and that velvet blue suit looks so pretty

💚🎶

George and Astrid in 1977; photo © Astrid Kirchherr.

“Astrid was the one, really, who influenced our image more than anybody.” - George Harrison, The Beatles Anthology

“I had the strongest friendship with George. He was one of my best friends. We saw each other often, and he always looked after me, got in touch constantly to ask if I was healthy and if I have everything. Today […] I still meet up with his wife Olivia and his son Dhani.” - Astrid Kirchherr, translated from Hörzu, 2005

“[Olivia] is a special lady and a wonderful woman, she is only what you would expect from someone married to such a wonderful man as George. […] I was invited to a beautiful memorial service with Olivia and their son Dhani, who is so like George, at their beautiful home where George was happy being a gardener.’” - Astrid Kirchherr, Liverpool Echo, August 26, 2003

“I was in London then [in the late Sixties] and George said he needed a photo for the inner sleeve of his Wonderwall album. I said, I just don’t feel like it, and anyway I haven’t got a camera. He smiled and said, ‘Darling, I just need to click my fingers and there’s any camera you want!’ So I had to do it, and I do really like that picture. Then later George said, ‘Come over to London and I’ll set up a studio for you and you can be a photographer here.’ But I was so unsure then if I was any good or not, that I just couldn’t accept his offer. I’d had years of being called ‘The Beatles’ photographer’. I’d go into a magazine with my portfolio, and all they would want to talk about was The Beatles. They didn’t care if picture was out of focus or not, especially in the ’60s, as long as it had a Beatle in it. So I started to question myself. Are you actually good, or are you only good because you took pictures of The Beatles? And under those circumstances, I didn’t feel as if I could do it any more. I still take pictures - but these days they’re just in my mind.” - Astrid Kirchherr, The Beatles: Classic, Rare & Unseen

“He was then [in the early ‘60s], he still is now: my Georgie boy.” - Astrid Kirchherr, translated from Spiegel, 2/1994

“George was always my favorite, his kindness and his wit. He was just a wonderful person and whenever I was in trouble, like with money and things, he was always looking after me and he invited me a couple of times to London and later on to Henley. I just miss him terribly because he was like a little guardian angel for me, I feel like I am in a way lost without him.” - Astrid Kirchherr, Astrid Kirchherr: A Retrospective

“[Kirchherr] last saw George Harrison in mid-2001, months before he died, when he invited her to [Friar Park] for a last weekend with his family. ‘I remember we had a little walk in his park, and I was so full of love and joy to be with him that I cried,’ she says. ‘He said, “You must not cry, I will always look after you.” He had no fear. No fear whatsoever. I miss his presence, but I’ve got the feeling he’s still around me.’" - Peter Fetterman Gallery, Artists: Astrid Kirchherr (x)