What The Fuck Is Wrong With Him

Teddy boy Paulie ❤️

Oh my god it's John

1979 is now up there with 1968 in my “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED BETWEEN PAUL MCCARTNEY AND JOHN LENNON” years.

You don’t just make something as joyful, teasing, naughty, and romantic as McCartney II out of the blue… You don’t just then come out of retirement out of the blue and starting boogying to Double Fantasy + Milk and Honey tracks COINCIDENTALLY, do you? DO YOU??

This is driving me a little crazy. What is your favorite conspiracy theory here?

George Harrison and Bob Dylan, Concert for Bangladesh, 1 August 1971; photo by Bill Ray (?).

Q: “One of the coups of [the Concert for] Bangladesh was Dylan’s appearance, because he had done so little since his motorcycle accident in 1966. Was he initially reluctant to do Bangladesh?”

George Harrison: “He was. He never committed himself, right up until the moment he came onstage. On the night before Bangladesh, we sat in Madison Square Garden as the people were setting up the bandstand. He looked around the place and said to me, ‘Hey, man, you know, this isn’t my scene.’ I’d had so many months… it seemed like a long time of trying to get it all together, and my head was reeling with all the problems and never. I’d gotten so fed up with him not being committed, I said, ‘Look, it’s not my scene, either. At least you’ve played on your own in front of a crowd before. I’ve never done that.’ So he turned up the next morning, which looked positive. I had a list, a sort of running order, that I had glued on my guitar. When I got to the point where Bob was going to come on, I had Bob with a question mark. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was around, because if he wasn’t, I would have to go on to do the next bit. And I looked around, and he was so nervous — he had his guitar and his shades — he was sort of coming on, coming [pumps his arms and shoulders]. So I just said, ‘My old friend, Bob Dylan!’ It was only at that moment that I knew for sure he was going to do it. After the second show, he picked me up and hugged me and said, ‘God! If only we’d done three shows.’” - Rolling Stone, 5 November 1987 (x)

Yoko for her birthday? Mayhaps John and Yoko with John giving purse dog ?

genius

trying to find a certain quote and instead I have to find paul calling john the "most loveable crazy dude (he's) ever met" I want to be dead

Hello!

I'm looking for a section of the lunchroom tape (from the Get Back sessions) where John says something to Paul along the lines of "I mean, you've only recently realised what you were doing to me". Does that ring any bells?

You seem to know your way around amoralto's archives, and I'm not having any luck searching there :)

Thanks!

Hi, @i-am-the-oyster (love the name, by the way)!

I think you might be referring to this section of the Lunchroom Tape:

JOHN: And it’s just that, you know. It’s only this year that you’ve suddenly realised, like who I am, or who he is, or anything like that.

I find this bit of the conversation particularly impenetrable; and all the more fascinating because of it. It's here that we have this famed exchange (whose full meaning still eludes me):

JOHN: Because you – ’cause you’ve suddenly got it all, you see. PAUL: Mm. JOHN: I know that, because of the way I am, like when we were in Mendips, like I said, “Do you like me?” or whatever it is. I’ve always – uh, played that one. PAUL: [laughs nervously] Yes. JOHN: So. PAUL: Uh, I’d been watching, I’d been watching. I’d been watching the picture. YOKO: Go back to George. What are we going to do about George?

I encourage folks to go listen to the full audio and transcript and try their hand at decoding it!

I don't know if it's accessible on the mobile app, but @amoralto has a separate page with links to all the Get Back excerpts, listed in chronological order. It's a pretty neat resource if you want to just binge through interesting little snippets from these sessions (some that made it onto the documentary, and many that didn't).

To those curious about the Lunchroom Tape in particular, here's a (play)list of all the transcribed excerpts, with @amoralto's descriptions for context:

We Have Egos

Over lunch, the remaining Beatles touch on George’s resignation from the band on the 10th, as well as a group meeting held the previous day which ended in less than desirable circumstances (with George leaving the room, frustrated by John’s persistently Yoko-filtered standard of communication). While Yoko contends that it would be easy for John (and Paul) to regain George’s favour, John points out that this is a more deeply-rooted issue than it may seem, compounded over the years by John and Paul’s treatment of George and his defaulted status within the group. Upon this problem of overriding egos, however, Paul suggests (passive-aggressively) that it isn’t just the Lennon-and-McCartney tandem that is causing George upset and consternation. 

Jealousy For You

As the problem of George’s current resignation from the band is discussed, John makes it about him and Paul wonders what it’s all worth.

The Way We All Feel Guilty About Our Relationship To Each Other

John contends with how the force of his partnership with Paul and his relationship with Yoko has negatively affected George and perhaps directly contributed to George’s walkout on the group three days prior.

Cabbage

During a discussion on how the rest of the group should move forward after George’s departure on the 10th, John wonders if they should get George back at all, suggesting his role as a Beatle is replaceable (unlike his own or Paul’s), and likens this unkindly to how Ringo first replaced Pete Best. Paul notes that John has been the top buck in getting himself heard (and getting his way) since the inception of the group (which John protests) and quickly reassures Ringo when he wryly declares himself to be little more than rabbit food for the group. Paul admits that both he and John have done one over on George, albeit unconsciously as an effect of the competition and unaware of how it may have hurt George in the process, but John argues that he’s known since early childhood how manipulative he himself can be, and has tried to curb it to little avail.

What You Are

In the middle of a personal discussion with John and Ringo about the band, its tenuous future, and their relationships with one another, Paul (in response to John’s admission of insecurity in the face of external pressures from the public and media to perform) is emphatic about his faith in them and their abilities and contends that whatever interpersonal problems they have can be resolved, for what their music is worth.

Working At A Relationship

While Yoko and Paul conduct their own conversation with each other, Linda talks to John about the inevitable difficulties any relationship faces - even in the context of a musical partnership - and why it doesn’t prove the relationship itself is an expired one. John (inexplicably or not) laments that the White Album doesn’t sound like the genuine, inspired band collaboration they achieved in the past. 

You've Got To Blame Yourself

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.)

How Much More Have I Done Towards Helping You Write?

John and Paul have an obfuscating conversation about their songwriting partnership and creative process, which has been incapacitated by a lack of direction, misplaced (misread) intentions, and the unmet (unrealised) expectations they’ve inflicted upon each other. (In other words: issues. And some projecting of issues onto George, for good measure.)

What We're All About

In the midst of a personal discussion about working together within the band, John tries to explain the disconnect in their process, and why he can’t envision their songs the way Paul can. As both John and Paul circle around the issues of honest communication and (living up to) each other’s expectations, they eventually project onto George bring George into the quandary of the Lennon-McCartney partnership. 

the funny thing about paul saying “maybe if i were a girl i could…” in reference to john and yoko is that paul being a girl would not make him and john’s relationship any better

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.