Review Of An Early Hilary Mantel

considering that a lot of people are labelling the person on the far left of the first photo as ringo, i just want to compare the clothes in these two photos to prove that it is, in fact, klaus, because i believe these were taken on the same day.

Welcome to the continent

BBC are having an Africa season of sorts – probably reflecting renewed interest in the continent in the light of the upcoming World Cup. The latest instalment is An African Journey with Jonathan Dimbleby, in which the veteran reporter explores life and culture in Nigeria, Ghana, Mali, Kenya, Ethiopia, Congo and SA, among others. I caught part of the second instalment, when he visited Ethiopia and Kenya. (On a side note, when will the BBC iPlayer become available in Ireland?? I’d gladly pay! And it seems bizarre that the BBC radio iPlayer is freely available, but not the television one! But that’s another entry).

I was reminded again of my earlier thoughts on Rupert Everett and Hector when witnessing Dimbleby’s complete inability to just act normal around his African interviewees, but he wasn’t the worst example of western awkwardness either. Like in Welcome to Lagos, the people defied stereotypes of unrelenting misery – most people had tough lives but like anyone would, tried to make the best of it. The role of technology was an interesting side note – in a continent where many countries have sporadic communications infrastructure, the mobile phone is an essential item. Cultural purists might balk at the sight of a Masai tribesman leaning against a tree chatting into a Nokia, but, as he explained, the device was an invaluable help to them in maintaining their traditional way of life, advising their fellow tribesman where to bring their animals for water and arranging meeting places to swap information. Like the best forms of technology, the mobile enables the Masai to continue living their traditional lives, only more efficiently than before – it becomes an invaluable, almost invisible part of life.

An overriding theme in any programme about Africa is the almost dizzying level of entrepeneurship displayed by even the most uneducated of people. This is hardly surprising – many African nations have been betrayed by their own leaders so it makes perfect sense that people take their financial matters into their own hands. Some sniffy commentators in the west complain that this displays a sort of ingrained ‘me and mine first’ culture that will forever paralyse Africa until better ways of organisation are imported from abroad, and correlate the obnoxious wealth-grabbing of various presidents to a street seller making enough to buy a mobile phone. This is a manifestly silly idea, since it pre-supposed some kind of inescapable destiny of behaviour that doesn’t stand up to even the most basic scientific analysis, and doesn’t take into account the simple fact that people will always make the best of whatever situation they find themselves in. Many Africans find themselves in situations where their leaders do nothing for them, so they help themselves and their families as much as they can. Anybody would so the same. Strong societies and communities don’t evolve overnight, especially when the conditions are unfavourable, and ordinary human self-interest is not some kind of incurable hamartia.

One enterprise on show was a kind of Western Union service in Kenya called MPusa where people send money to relatives and receive a text to confirm the money has arrived – incredibly simple, incredibily useful. Dimbleby also visited a call-centre and the set of a soap opera promoting unity between Kenya’s tribes. A focus group audience for the soap confirmed that tribal conflict in 2008 was strongest among the uneducated, but the more people were educated, the less conflict there was. Again, the simplest answer is the correct one, rather than the dark mutterings about ingrained African ‘tribalism’ that blight the conservative (and often the notionally liberal) western press. The 2008 violence in Kenya was multifaceted, but it was certainly not simply the inevitable result of bloodthirsty tribes seething at each other.

These recent programmes on Africa have been really cheering. Seeing people just getting on with their lives as society at large gradually evolves around them dispels the negative stereotypes that are pumped into our brains in the west by media, charity organisations and self-styled ‘experts’. I don’t mean that in a patronising way ‘look at them there with their little businesses’, and of course it’s obvious Africa has lots of problems to overcome. It would be naive to assume that a fully modernised African society will exactly mirror the West – there are too many dramatically different cultural features to African life for that to happen – but it looks more and more each day that Africa will eventually become a thoroughly modern continent on its own terms, which is the best news of all.

what is it with dezo hoffman and taking the most erotic photos imaginable of beatles. see also: the smoky hazy sleepy paul in paris 64 pics that john supposedly owned. also a p hot one of george from the same shoot

John Lennon backstage at Stowe School in Buckinghamshire, England | 4 April 1963 © Dezo Hoffmann

"At first neither John nor I liked this picture because it was contradictory to his tidy image. But his expression and the lighting were so good that we ended up liking it. It seems to sum up John at that time." ~ Dezo Hoffmann

dying at "I'll be down in ten minutes to talk to you about the cardboard.'"

YOU KNOW HE WILL AND ALL

Paul & leadership, musically & otherwise

Link to masterpost of quote compilations

When Paul came in[to the band], things started to get a little bit more serious. Paul’s father had actually had a band, Jim Mac’s Jazz Band, so Paul was much more aware of the career possibilities than any of the rest of us were, because here his own dad had had a band. So things got a lot more structured and serious when Paul arrived. You can tell that by looking at the photograph of us in July ’57, when we were at St Peter’s Church, a bunch of guys in checked shirts, and in November ’57, when you have John and Paul in smart white jackets and everybody in little bootlace ties. I mean, already Paul’s influence was evident, you know?

Rod Davis (of The Quarrymen), interview w/ Gillian G. Gaar for Goldmine: Before they were Beatles, they were Quarrymen. (November 28th, 2012)

COLIN: Paul would have allowed John to feel that he was the boss anyway. Paul wouldn’t have gotten head to head with John, but Paul would have got his own way if you’d like, carefully, by maneuvering and perhaps letting John think it was his idea. I think that’s the way Paul was. LEN: I think it was part of his characteristic, really. Part of his characteristic. You know, when we started off as The Quarrymen, we were a gang of scruffs, we could dress whatwe’d like, checked shirts, anything we would like. But I’m pretty sure it was Paul’s idea that one night at Clubmoor we dressed a bit smarter – you know, the white coats and the black ties. I think – it wouldn’t be John’s idea. John was more interested in the music and the entertainment. “We can dress what we like as long as we’re enjoying ourselves.” But I think Paul was more... I don’t know. Image-minded, you know. Worried more about the image. COLIN: Paul was very much the diplomat. He would never get a quick answer off Paul. He would always think about what was the right answer; not what the answer should’ve been, but perhaps what you wanted to hear.

2003: The Quarrymen talk about Paul

“I can well remember even at the rehearsal at his house in Forthlin Road, Paul was quite specific about how he wanted it played and what he wanted the piano to do. There was no question of improvising. We were told what we had to play. There was a lot of arranging going on even back then."

John Duff Lowe pianist on their first ever recording, In Spite of All the Danger

“During one Cavern performance of ‘Over the Rainbow’, John leaned back on the piano, pointed to Paul, burst into raucous laughter and shouted, “God, he’s doing Judy Garland!” Paul had to keep singing in the knowledge that John was pulling crips and Quasis behind his back or making strange sounds on his guitar to interrupt him. Yet, if Paul stopped in the middle of the number, John would stare around the stage, the essence of innocence. […] Paul took such behavior from no one but John, but also he gave it back and was strong minded enough to carry on doing what he wanted, knowing how much the audience liked it. He sang these songs well, and added one more to the portfolio at this time, the Broadway show number ‘Till There Was You’. John really had a go at Paul for singing this—but didn’t try to stop him doing it, recognizing there was scope for all kinds of music in this group, to please all kinds of audiences.”

Mark Lewisohn, Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years (unFUCKING believable that Lewisohn uses this as an example of John's leadership and not Paul's)

As they near the club, they start to discern the sounds of a band rehearsing a poppy, recently released Elvis number called “It’s Now Or Never”, refitted that summer from the melody of “O Sole Mio”. As the pair near the door of the bar, Lennon realises it is his band, and that the voice singing is that of his fellow Beatle, Paul McCartney. Lennon, to put it mildly, is unimpressed by this proposed extension of the group’s repertoire. “He said, ‘What the fucking hell is he doing now?’” remembers Griff, today. “Lennon was a rocker. He stormed in the club and said, ‘What are you doing?’ Paul said: ‘This is a popular song—they’ll love this.’ And of course the audiences did.”

Brian Griffiths, interview w/ John Robinson for Uncut: ‘A roaring rock’n’roll band in leathers and cowboy boots… but they changed.’ (March, 2012)

The observations Sam Leach had of the teenaged boys seems to put Paul in the leadership position, not John: “Even when we went to shows, Paul had the ideas, made the decisions — about what clubs to play in, for example, new things to try on stage. He was the idea man, John was a bit lazy when it came to doing stuff.”

Larry Kane. “When They Were Boys.

The other Quarry Men did not take quite so strongly to Paul. 'I always thought he was a bit big- headed,' Nigel Walley says. 'As soon as we let him into the group, he started complaining about the money I was getting them, and saying I should take less as I didn't do any playing. He was always smiling at you, but he could be catty as well. He used to pick on our drummer, Colin - not to his face; making catty remarks about him behind his back. Paul wanted something from the drums that Colin didn't have it in him to play.' "Paul was always telling me what to do," Colin Hanton says. "Can't you play it this way?" he'd say, and even try to show me on my own drums. He'd make some remark to me. I'd sulk. John would say "Ah, let him alone, he's all right." But I knew they only wanted me because I'd got a set of drums.' Even Pete Shotton - still a close friend and ally - noticed a change in John after Paul's arrival. "There was one time when they played a really dirty trick on me. I knew John would never have been capable of it on his own. It was so bad that he came to me later and apologised. I'd never known him to do that before for anyone.' It was shortly after Paul joined the Quarry Men that they bought proper stage outfits of black trousers, black bootlace ties and white cowboy shirts with fringes along the sleeves. John and Paul, in addition, wore white jackets; the other three played in their shirtsleeves. Eric Griffiths, though also a guitarist, did not have the jacket-wearing privilege. A cheerful boy, he did not recognise this for the augury it was.

Shout!: The True Story of the Beatles (Philip Norman)

Gerry Marsden also has his own interesting theory about Paul’s left-handed guitar playing: “He and John were able to get their faces close up together at the microphone for the vocals, unlike most players. So when they were singing, it was like a love affair with each other, and the mike between them. In every photograph they are tight together and the effect is very powerful. In those days, we didn’t have a microphone each: we shared one, so for Macca to plan this effect for the Beatles, as I’m certain he did, was brilliant.”

“What The Stars Said About Them.” Beatles Book Monthly Magazine No. 205 (May 1993).

“Paul was very good,” said Eric [Griffiths, of The Quarrymen]. “We could all see that. He was precocious in many ways. Not just in music but in relating to people.” […] His charm also worried John, according to Eric. “We were all walking down Halewood Drive to my house to do some practising. I was walking ahead with John. The others were behind. John suddenly said: ‘Let’s split the group, and you and me will start again.’ “We could hear Paul behind us, chatting to Pete [Shotton] as if he was Pete’s best friend. John knew we were all his pals, but now Paul was trying to get in on us. Not to split us up, just make friends with us all. I’m sure that was all it was, but to John it looked as if Paul was trying to take over, dominate the group. I suppose he was worried it could disrupt the balance, upset the group dynamics, as we might say today. “I said to him: ‘Paul’s so good. He’ll contribute a lot to the group. We need him with us.’ John said nothing. But after that the subject was never mentioned again.”

Eric Griffiths, c/o Hunter Davies, Sunday Times: A Beatle’s boyhood. (March 25th, 2001)

“[John] didn’t like it one bit, paying to play did not sit right with John Lennon… but we did eventually pay to go in — John included, and it was Paul McCartney who convinced John we should do so… Paul’s reasoning was we were more than good enough to win the prize money. He argued that as we would soon be walking off with the cash prize anyway, so we could afford to pay to go inside… So we all did cough up and in we trooped, set up, performed and, of course, proceeded not to win. It was undoubtedly a reality check for our new super-confidant guitarist. We all came away out of pocket, but steeped in admiration for Paul’s enthusiasm and blind faith in the Quarry Men’s ability. He had impressed us all.”

Colin Hanton and Colin Hall, Pre-Fab, The Book Guild, 2018.

‘When Paul joined the band, things changed… but it wasn’t an overnight change,’ Colin Hanton remembers. ‘Paul was shrewd. He realised from the start that John liked to think of himself as the dominant force, but he needed Paul to teach him proper guitar chords, which was the way in to playing more rock ‘n’ roll material. He recognised John was the power in the group and that the best way to take him on was to do it subtly.’ Paul’s most immediate effect on the Quarrymen was in their presentation. ‘You could see he had this show business side to him,’ Colin Hanton says, ‘while John just lived for the music.’ The group had always worn what they liked onstage, but now John accepted Paul’s suggestion of a uniform: black trousers, white Western-style shirts and black bootlace ties. On 23 November, they had a return booking at the New Clubmoor Hall, where Paul had previously mucked up ‘Guitar Boogie’. He was determined to cut a better figure this time. ‘He had this sort of oatmeal jacket–he’d worn it to the Woolton fete–and he let it be known to John that when we did the gig, he was going to wear the jacket,’ Hanton remembers. ‘So the gig got nearer and then one day John turned up and he had got a cream jacket that was lighter than Paul’s. It was John’s way of saying “Hey, I’m cooler than you.”’

Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)

“During playbacks, John and Paul would often huddle together and discuss whether a take was good enough; they’d talk about what they were hearing and what they wanted to fix or do differently,” “John wasn’t casual about making records, not in the early years, anyway. Still, it was Paul who was always striving to get things the best that they could possibly be.” While Lennon might not have shared McCartney’s perfectionism, he respected and went along with it. He may not have had the same attitude toward Martin, though. “Certainly George Martin couldn’t get away with that,” “If he dared try, they would bite his head off. There was never any doubt in my mind that Paul and John viewed George Martin as a helpmate, not as their equal.”

Geoff Emerick in his book Here, There and Everywhere: My Life Recording the Music of the Beatles.

“John is an original. New ideas just come to him. Paul has great originality but he’s also an arranger. He can get things done, which John can’t, or can’t be bothered trying. They do need, and they don’t need, each other. Either is true. Paul is as talented a composer as John. They could easily have done well on their own.”

Astrid Kirchherr in 1967, from The Beatles, by Hunter Davies.

In the early days my role was to tidy things up, musically - to put songs into some sort of perspective. (I would also give a commercial estimate of their worth) I might take a phrase out of the middle of ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’, for example, pointing out that the phrase should have started the song, or, as on ‘Please Please Me’, say ‘Speed it up, maybe; that’s all it needs, really… ’ I think John learned from this kind of input. He learned a whole lot more from Paul, though: musical structure; organization in his song writing; how to make a song telling. He also learned the value of a good ‘hook’ —the catchy bit, for example the guitar riff that starts ‘Day Tripper’, the harmonica from ‘Love Me Do’.

George Martin

John used to find it hard to express himself, I was in a position where I really had to read his mind, and he didn’t have a lot of patience. He would accept something that was sort of 95% good, whereas Paul would want it 100% good. So Paul to me has always been the musician and the one that was a musicians sort of musician. I mean Paul was a good drummer, a good guitarist, a good keyboard player and he sort of held the band and brought them to that perfection part of things, John would let things easily go. And of course John did not like the sound of his voice either. No matter how much you told him how great his voice sounded, he always wanted tape echo on it or something done to it.

Geoff Emerick interview w/ Alan Light for Blender.com (2009)

Paul was the one who sort of saved the situation always, the one who always went that little bit extra to perfect things you know. Especially because on Paul’s songs, we’d spend a considerable amount of time doing Paul’s songs because he knew exactly really what he wanted whereas John didn’t. The time we spent on some of John’s songs was a bit less than Paul’s songs, but if Paul, I think, thought that a John song was going slightly a bit, you know, lopsided, he’d interject and sort of make sure it really was polished.

Geoff Emerick interview w/ Alan Light for Blender.com (2009)

Q: If you had a favourite out of all The Beatles, who did you find yourself drawn to? Geoff: Oh, Paul, obviously! I mean, Paul was the musician’s musician. And I think Paul had an understanding of what I was doing as well; because he knew I was into instruments and so forth, you know, listening to musical instruments and crafting them, let’s put it that way. […] He was the one who always wanted a 110%.

Geoff Emerick, interviewed for ABC’s 7.30 program, for the 50th anniversary of Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. (25 May 2017)

"I don’t want to take anything away from anyone, but production of the Beatles was very simple, because it was ready-made. Paul was a very great influence in terms of the production, especially in terms of George Harrison’s guitar solos and Ringo’s drumming. The truth of the matter is that, to the best of my memory, Paul had a great hand in practically all of the songs that we did, and Ringo would generally ask him what he should do. After all, Paul was no mean drummer himself, and he did play drums on a couple of things. It was almost like we had one producer in the control room and another producer down in the studio. There is no doubt at all that Paul was the main musical force. He was also that in terms of production as well. A lot of the time George Martin didn’t really have to do the things he did because Paul McCartney was around and could have done them equally well… most of the ideas came from Paul".

Norman Smith (The Beatles recording engineer from Please Please Me through Rubber Soul), McCartney by Chris Salewicz

“If you take ‘Across The Universe’, for example: that’s like a folk song without his production on it, [which is] kind of slightly heavy handed. I think it would have been very different if my Dad had done it. Not necessarily better; just very different. I think Paul’s main issue with what happened is that he normally had a lot of input into the arrangements, and he didn’t with Spector – they arranged it without him. I was listening to [off-cuts from 1966’s] ‘Eleanor Rigby’ and even at that early stage you can hear my Dad saying, ‘Do you want that vibrato or not vibrato, Paul?’”

Producer Giles Martin

JOHN: [singing operatically] Well, let me tell you… [Small laughs] Everybody has all the ambitions. Everybody’s full of ambition, and uh, it’s like – uh, once I gave George the advice on songwriting, [which is] that when you start one, finish it. And I think I got the advice from Paul, or working with Paul. But it’s like anything. If you have an idea, the only – the best way is to try and do it right away, otherwise you won’t do it, and that’s called ambition, you know.

October 22nd, 1969 (Apple Corps, London): Detroit DJ John Small

Paul: OK, and that’s great, you know. And then – it’s just being able to say that, on the occasion, just being – say, “Look, I’m not going to say anything about the song, because it’ll be difficult … to sing it to you.” John: Yeah, I know, but you wouldn’t say – listen to me – you probably arranged it you know? Paul: I know, I know. John: Well, I’m saying that “Dear Prudence” is arranged. Can’t you hear [John vocalizes part of the song]. That is the arrangement, you know? But I’m too frightened to say “This is it.” I just sit there and say, “Look, if you don’t come along and play your bit, I won’t do the song,” you know? I can’t do any better than that. Don’t ask me for what movie* you’re gonna play on it. Because apart from not knowing, I can’t tell you better than you have, what grooves you can play on it. You know, I just can’t work. I can’t do it like that. I never could, you know. But when you think of the other half of it, just think, how much more have I done towards helping you write? I’ve never told you what to sing or what to play. You know, I’ve always done the numbers like that. Now, the only regret, just the past numbers, is when because I’ve been so frightened, that I’ve allowed you to take it somewhere where I didn’t want

Jan. 13: The Lunchroom Tape

PAUL: We – we haven’t played together, you see! That’s the fucking thing. But when we do come together to play together, we all just sort of talk about the fleeting past! We’re like old-age pensioners! [British geriatric voice] “Remember the days when we used to rock?” You know, but we’re here now! We can do it, you know. But I mean, I’m – all I hoping for is enthusiasm from you— PAUL: You see the thing is also, I, I get to a bit where I just sort of push all my ideas, you know, and I know that my ideas aren’t the best, you know. They are [mechanical voice] “good, good, good” but they’re not the best, you know. We can improve on it. Because we write songs good, and we improve on it. [to Ringo] And you can improve on your drumming like it is, if you get into it. If you don’t, you know, then okay, I have better ideas, but if you get into it, you’re better! You know. It’s like that.

Twickenham, January 6th

"I always had the impression that Brian used to worry about Paul, that he was a bit frightened of him perhaps because he was so strong-willed in his opinions about the exact details of how the Beatles’ career should progress. Even though they could also be as thick as thieves about such matters, Brian was always circumspect when talking to Paul about things of any great importance. John and Brian always seemed to get on all right. But Paul would argue with Brian, and as far as I could see, Brian always gave in."

Brian Sommerville, McCartney by Chris Salewicz

“Sgt Pepper had not yet been released, but already Paul was explaining to Brian at length his plan for the Magical Mystery Tour movie. Every few seconds Brian would make a note on a scrap of paper. Paul drew the whole plan out as a diagram, a cosmic plan with time and action and motion. Brian could translate this, as he could all Beatles commands, into a specific timetable of booked studios, rehearsal halls, rented equipment, tea for forty-five people and everything else they needed, without the Beatles even knowing what degree of organisation was required to satisfy their often obscure and demanding requests. Brian was on Paul’s wavelength and treated him as the most organised Beatle, who could in turn translate management needs back to the other three. It was the last time I saw Brian.”

Barry Miles, In the Sixties

To Lennon, [Paul] was "cute, and didn’t he know it," a born performer who was also a "thruster" and an "operator" behind the scenes.

Christopher Sandford, Paul McCartney, 2005

Because Paul was the natural PR man within the group, it was Paul with whom I worked most. In a sense, I used him to manipulate the others, because that’s what he was doing all the time anyway. I suspect that Paul got his way more than John did within the group, but in a far more subtle manner. He was a smooth operator, as he is to this day. Metaphorically, he still takes that last look in the mirror. His critics now think of him as calculating and selfish, but you could level the charge of selfishness at any great performer. Any artist who is not self-centred will not sustain himself—and self-centred is what Paul is. I soon found out that his management of himself is total. That’s why he always found it so difficult in his solo years to get management that would be satisfactory to him. Everybody knows that all Paul needs is to surround himself with people who will carry out his ideas and do what he says. He considers himself, as he did then, to be self-sufficient. That’s different from John. It is why the partnership worked so well in the early days.

Tony Barrow, Daily Mail. (February 16th, 1998)

And only until John became what he is now – which is after John’s death that people started to revere John – it became an issue for Paul. Because you have to understand that table was turned many times. One, when John made the Jesus Christ remark, and Paul became virtually a leader. And John turned the table on Paul by becoming a partner with me, probably. But then the thing is, the table was turned again by Paul becoming extremely successful with Wings. So he was doing alright, while John did Some Time in New York City with me, and then followed that with Mind Games or something, you know.

1990: Yoko

“I hear tell, I said, "that you can all be downright rude - and have been.” “Of course we’ve been rude - but only rude back,” he [John] explained. “Have you any clue about the things people say and do to us? "We’re not cruel. We’ve seen enough tragedy on Merseyside. But when a mother shrieks, ‘just touch him and maybe he will walk again,’ we want to run, cry or just empty our pockets. It’s a great emotional drag, and this is where Paul helps out. He’s the diplomat with the soft soap. He can turn on that smile like little May sunshine and we’re out of trouble. "We’ve a very tight school, the Beatles. We’re like a machine that goes boom, boomchick, chickboom, each of us with our own little job to do. We’re just like dogs who can hear high-pitched sounds that humans can’t.

The Daily Mirror: The one that bites – Donald Zec dissects Mr J. Lennon. (March 1965)

JOHN: Well, that’s the game they play. Neil Aspinall plays that game too. At one point, in one of the Northern Songs proceedings, I sent a telegram to Neil, because I’d heard he’d been doing things behind me back, and I said: “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” Because I was the one that protected him many times from Paul. Paul had no love for Neil, and vice versa. And all of a sudden he’s a Paul man. Because they clung to Paul—Derek included—because they all thought Paul was the one who was going to hold it all together. So they had a choice of which side to come down on, and they chose Paul, and the past, and at that moment I cut ‘em off.

John Lennon, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

It seemed that John had cut me off not just from him but from the whole Beatles family. The only person who came to see me was Paul. He arrived one sunny afternoon, bearing a red rose, and said, 'I’m so sorry, Cyn, I don’t know what’s come over him. This isn’t right.’ On the way down to see us he had written a song for Julian. It began as ‘Hey Jules’ and later became 'Hey Jude’, which sounded better. Ironically John thought it was about him when he first heard it. It went on to become one of the Beatles’ most successful singles ever, spending nine weeks at number one in the US and two weeks in the UK. Paul stayed for a while. He told me that John was bringing Yoko to recording sessions, which he, George and Ringo hated. […] He joked about us getting married - 'How about it, Cyn?’ - and I was grateful to him for cheering me up and caring enough to come. He was the only member of the Beatles family who’d had the courage to defy John – who had apparently made it quite clear that he expected everyone to follow his lead in cutting me off. But Paul was his own man and not afraid of John. In fact, musically and personally, the two were beginning to go in separate directions so perhaps Paul’s visit to me was also a statement to John.”

Cynthia Lennon, John

“They were the first group I had heard who sounded just like they did on record. You could tell John was the leader, he had a look somehow, a bit of a hard case, but I actually think it was Paul who was in charge.”

Andre Wheeldon, musician

Q: What were the Beatles like to deal with…It was said that John wasn’t the easiest to deal with, Paul was a delight to work with.

A: If we’re talking…professionally, those were the days I was a PR man; and therefore to a man who was doing publicity for the Beatles, Paul had to be the greatest joy of the four because he was the one who organized everyone else. He was the one who posed for the photographers, he was he one who said c’mon chaps, let’s do the interview, let’s do the photograph or whatever. John, in that respect, was more difficult, but John….is the most misunderstood man, actually, because beneath all that bravado and rudeness–and sheer rudeness a lot of the time– there was a genius, and there was also a man who was afraid. I mean all that noise he made was in fact a coverup for being rather a frightened man. Q: He was a shy man… A: Yes, yes indeed. And that is how an awful lot of shy people cover it up by making a lot of noise.”

Tony Barrow, TVAM interview

Paul came across in 1963 as a fun-loving, footloose bachelor who turned on his charm to devastating effect when he wanted to manipulate rivals, colleagues or women he fancied. (...) He had enormous powers of persuasion within The Beatles. He would get his own way by subtlety and suaveness where John resorted to shouting and bullying. John may have been the loudest Beatle but Paul was the shrewdest. I watched him twist the others round to his point of view in all sorts of contentious situations, some trivial, some more significant, some administrative, some creative.

George told me that when he joined Paul and John in the line-up of The Quarry Men in 1958, Paul was already acting as though he was the decision-maker in the group. According to George: "I knew perfectly well that this was John's band and John was my hero, my idol, but from the way Paul talked he gave every indication that he was the real leader, the one who dictated what The Quarry Men would do and where they should be going as a group." This made sense to me because, from what I saw for myself in 1963 and later, Paul's opinions and ideas tended to prevail with The Beatles, particularly on matters of musical policy such as whether a new number was worth recording or whether the running order for the group's stage show needed altering slightly. I didn't see any of the others resist him. They seemed to welcome Paul getting his way by winning arguments with John. When Paul wanted something badly enough from Brian Epstein he would speak softly, wooing the man rather than intimidating him. Epstein's defences would melt away as Paul looked him straight in the eye. In terms of song lyrics, Paul's idea of romantic was 'Michelle', John's was 'Norwegian Wood'.

John, Paul, George, Ringo & Me: The Real Beatles Story, Tony Barrow (2005)

“PAUL: John used to say, ‘I’m the leader of this group!’ and we used to say, 'It’s only because you fucking shout louder than anyone else!’ It wasn’t as if we didn’t know how to do that, it was just nobody wanted to shout and be so uptight about it. Nobody cared as much as he did about being the leader. Actually I have always quite enjoyed being second. I realised why it was when I was out riding: whoever is first opens all the gates. If you’re second you just get to walk through. They’ve knocked down all the walls, they’ve taken all the stinging nettles, they take all the shit and whoever’s second, which is damn near to first, waltzes through and has an easy life. You’re still up with number one. Number one still needs you as his companion, so I think my relationship to John is something to do with this attitude.

paul mccartney: many years from now, barry miles

“When I came out of the Beatles, I got slated for being a bit too heavy with the other guys in the band,” he said. “It was a bit as if I was taking over as the manager. I thought with the new band, I’ll give them total freedom, so no one can accuse me of that again . . . and you can’t do that either. You started to have people saying, ‘Hey man, c’mon, produce us.’ No one would take up the baton, the role. So I came back to that. “The whole of ‘Wings Mark I’ was to see if that could be done. But there was too much indecision, and I wasn’t willing enough to take the thing by the scruff of the neck and say, ‘Look, I think we’ve gotta organize the solos you’re gonna play.’ It was a bit like we’re gonna be the Grateful Dead and we’re just gonna play what comes up. But to do that you’ve gotta know each other for a long time.”

The McCartney Legacy, Volume 1: 1969 – 1973 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair (2022)

“Coming out of The Beatles, I’d kind of got burned by being told I was too overbearing. So I really backed off too far in the early days of Wings. Having to be diplomatic and say ‘Um, perhaps we should do this’ doesn’t work either. You have chaos and confusion. Eventually somebody says: 'Why don’t you tell us what you want?’ and I’d think, 'I just got a bollocking for doing that!’ There was a bit of that in early Wings which caused difficulties.”

Paul McCartney, The Word, October 2005

But it was always hard for you to lock a line-up with Wings. Was it a benign dictatorship? That’s what they thought it was. The thing is, if you come out of The Beatles and you go in another group, you’re not just anyone. You’re the guy out of The Beatles. So, y’know, if anyone’s gonna make a decision, it should probably be him. But I mean, having said that, it was a team thing. Y’know, if anyone didn’t like stuff, we didn’t do it. You could never force musicians to do stuff. But you’d suggest strongly.

The Q Interview, 2007

“That’s difficult. I really don’t know,” he says. “What I first thought of was: listen to people’s opinions more, particularly within the group. But I did listen to people’s opinions and what would happen was I would feel like I had to give my opinion and not get too nervous, because you’ve got to be strong in those situations. There were times when John would bring a song in and I could have just gone, ‘That’s great John, let’s do it like that.’ But the producer in me would think, ‘No, that’s not going to work, why don’t we try it like that.’ So something like ‘Come Together’ would never have been as cool if I’d just been listening to the way John brought it in. And there were a few little instances like that where we would insist on it being one way. So I can’t actually think what I’d say to him. I’d say: You’re a good kid, I love you.”

NME Big Read – Paul McCartney

I had to fight at EMI even for things like the thickness of the cardboard. EMI were always trying to give me less and less thick cardboard. I said, 'Look, when I was a kid, I loved my records, the good ones, and I wanted to protect them and thick cardboard would keep my records. That's all I want to do is give the kids who buy our stuff something to protect our records.' 'Well now, Paul, we can't do it, the volume you boys sell at. If we can save point oh oh pence ... And you can't tell the difference.' 'I bloody can! That's a thin piece of cardboard!' But I got my thick cardboard. I was always arguing for things like that. It somehow fell to me. Later people put me down for that, 'Oh, he was always the pushy one, the PR one.' The truth was, no other fucker would do it! And it had to get done, and I was living in London and I could hop in a taxi and go down Manchester Square and say, 'I'll be down in ten minutes to talk to you about the cardboard.'

Paul McCartney, Many Years From Now

crossing a picket line, abusing striking workers AND littering, all before 9am smh. No one deserved a slap more that day.

Also not convinced by that teacher's assertion that Lennon would be on the picket with them, unfortch. Rich guys are still rich guys.

Anyway, important to remember that wealth is the greatest corrupter, even of our faves.

What did goddess mean by this?

Charley Foxx, Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder at the Scotch of St James club, 1966.

“When on tour I have to write essays about the places I visit. In the essay I’ll be writing when I get back I’ll certainly include my meeting with Paul McCartney. I met him in the Scotch Of St James club. He’s a really swinging guy, the only Beatle I’ve met.”

15-year-old Stevie Wonder, NME, 18 February, 1966

“None of the Beatles was on hand for Stevie’s show at the Cavern, but Paul McCartney came to a show we did in London. After the final set, Stevie, Paul, Clarence [Paul, Stevie’s producer] and I sat around acting like a proverbial mutual admiration society - Paul going on and on about how the Beatles loved rhythm and blues and how they all admired Stevie’s music and the Motown sound; the rest of us quizzing him about the “Fab Four”. it was the only time in all my years of working alongside the greatest singers and musicians in the world that I ever asked for an autograph, which earned me major points with my sisters Joan and Diane.”

Ted Hull (Stevie’s tutor), The Wonder Years: my life and times with Stevie Wonder, 2000

Braille message for Stevie (“We love you baby”) on the cover of Wings’ 1973 album Red Rose Speedway.

On the first night of recording, who should turn up at the studio door but Paul and Linda. It was the first time since the Beatles had broken up that John and Paul had been in the same room…They play. With Paul on drums, in the absence of Ringo and Keith Moon that night, and John picking up his guitar, soon to be joined by Stevie Wonder, they went into a jam of ‘Midnight Special’.

Ray Connolly, Being John Lennon A Restless Life

“I’ve always been an admirer from the early days when we first heard him as ‘Little’ Stevie Wonder with ‘Fingertips’. Then I met him on and off [for a few years] and went to his shows. Eventually, I asked him if we could record together ‘Ebony and Ivory’. I spent some time with him in Montserrat to make that record... He’s such a musical monster. You sit down with him at the piano immediately he’s off. I know some of his old stories so I can joke with him and take the mickey. He was originally ‘Steveland Morris’ and he was in a little blind school in Detroit. He was just one of the blind kids who happened to be musically gifted. He went to Motown to make ‘Fingertips’ and then he was famous. He came back as ‘Little Stevie Wonder’. So he once told me all the blind kids in the school used to call him [adopts mocking tone] ‘Wundurr’. They didn’t like him and were jealous of him. So now when I see him and if we pass in the corridor I say ‘Wundurr’ and he immediately knows it’s Paul.”

Paul McCartney, GQ Magazine, November 2012

Stevie and Paul in Montserrat, working on Tug of War, 1981.

“But, you know, he’s such a fantastic person to work with that you just go along with it. He’s worth it! He may not always show up when he says he will. Maybe he has got to finish this other album he’s doing, whatever. You just have to make a lot of allowances. He’s such a great musician. It’s all fine, in the end. When he eventually got there and started working, it was perfect. I thought, ‘Oh God, everything he does is perfect.’ I’m talking about even handclaps here… you know, just handclaps. I remember being just a little bit out on the handclaps. We were round a mic clapping, and he just went, ‘Hey Paul, stop! Hey man, you’re not in the pocket!’ And I’m going, ‘Okay, alright, I’m not in the pocket! Let’s get it in the pocket.’ On the Beatles records we weren’t that precise with handclaps! ‘In the pocket’ means being exactly on the beat. So Stevie is saying, ‘You’re not in the pocket, man!’ and I’m going, ‘Oh shit! Okay, let’s get it right!’ So we just worked at it until we got it. He’s very much the perfectionist.”

Paul McCartney, Tug of War Archive Collection, 2015

“Stevie came along to the studio in LA and he listened to the track for about ten minutes and he totally got it. He just went to the mic and within 20 minutes had nailed this dynamite solo. When you listen you just think, ‘How do you come up with that?’ But it’s just because he is a genius, that’s why.”

Paul on recording Only Our Hearts with Stevie in 2011.

Paul and Stevie during mixing for Kisses on the Bottom, 15 November 2011 source

melody maker letters as the burn book from mean girls

So you think 'Imagine' ain't political? It's 'Working Class Hero' with sugar on it for conservatives like yourself!! You obviously didn't dig the words. Imagine! You took 'How Do You Sleep' so literally (read my own review of the album in Crawdaddy.) Your politics are very similar to Mary Whitehouse's -- 'Saying nothing is as loud as saying something.' Listen, my obsessive old pal, it was George's press conference -- not 'dat ole debbil Klein' -- He said what you said: 'I'd love to come but...' Anyway, we basically did it for the same reasons -- the Beatle bit -- they still called it a Beatle show, with just two of them! Join the Rock Liberation Front before it gets you. Wanna put your photo on the label like uncool John and Yoko, do ya? (Aint ya got no shame!) If we're not cool, WHAT DOES THAT MAKE YOU? No hard feelings to you either. I know basically we want the same, and as I said on the phone and in this letter, whenever you want to meet, all you have to do is call.

John Lennon's letter responding to Paul, published in its entirety in Melody Maker

literally the ramblings of an insane person I am GAGGED

finished loving john and am turning it around and around in my head. may pang is not without her biases but it's pretty easy to flag where they are and what they're colored by. it is clear to me that she didn't like paul very much, and im not sure whether that's because of the way john presented him to her amidst the business troubles or because she perceived he didn't like her with john. the way may presents the johnandyoko reconciliation, it's entirely caused by yoko's hypnotherapist. but we know that's not entirely true and i dont know if at the time of writing she knew about paul telling john in LA that yoko wanted him back. there's a lot of instances where john and may are conspiring against yoko: keeping secrets and telling lies to pacify her. i dont know if may considered the two of them might have been doing the same to her. it seems easier for her to blame yoko for the whole thing, both the start and end of the relationship, and while she certainly deserves quite a bit of blame it's also john who won't take no for an answer when he first tries to sleep with her and it's john who chose to go back to yoko. yoko knew how to use the deepest parts of his psychology to convince him, but is was still HIS psychology. and honestly as an outside observer even though may had an incredible strength of character at such a young age i dont think anyone was really a match for the depth of trauma john had and it's entirely possible something worse may have happened had he stayed with her longer. and he did almost kill her.

Allan Williams & Rod Murray with friends at Flat 3, Hillary Mansions, Gambier Terrace in Liverpool, England | July 1960 © Harold Chapman (I) (II) (III)

How to write a historical novel

I recently read two books which could be handily placed on opposing sides of the ‘how to write historical fiction’ spectrum. They are The Map of Love by Adhaf Soueif and Brooklyn by Colm Toibín. One takes in the entire modern history of a particular country through the experiences of its characters, the other’s scope is limited to the point of provinicial. Yet, it is the small story, Toibín’s Brooklyn, that is infinitely more successful. Souief said of her leading male character, Sharif al-Baroudi, that she wanted to write a character one could fall in love with, using the appearance of a romantic hero in Egyptian cinema as her template. The story of the Map of Love is split across the 20th century, focusing on the romance and marriage between Lady Anna Winterbourne and al-Baroudi in Egypt in the 1900s and the discovery of her diaries by two of her female descendents, American Isabel and Egyptian Amal. Soueif had an admirable aim in the book – to tell the little-known story of the nascent Egyptian struggle for independence in the years before the First World War – and while the research is comprehensive and the historical details are fascinating, the characters utterly fail to convince, in my opinion. Lady Anna is too modern a woman to be believable as a character of her time, and her unquestioning, wholehearted adoption of her new husband’s family, culture and country come across as forced rather than romantic. From a secure position within conventional Victorian genteel society, she abruptly and without question pledges uncritical support for the cause of Egyptian independence. Even though she is portrayed as more thoughtful and historically aware than her peers, her decision just doesn’t feel believable. History shows us that the need for independence in former colonies was justified, but it seems implausible that someone like Lady Anna would take that position so quickly and easily in her place and time. The story isn’t helped by the fact that Lady Anna and her husband are too saintly to be true – apart from some minor cultural speedbumps they remain sickeningly in love, without any of the normal gripes and confusions that accompany even the happiest of marriages, let alone one across a cultural gulf. The two are like a cardboard cut-out couple, cloyingly devoted to each other and to the cause of independence with barely a question asked or a dissenting voice raised, and they are also implausibly modern in their attitudes to each other. Perhaps if they were not presented to the reader in the form of Anna’s diary entries a more convincing inner life might have arisen, but as it stands they don’t convince and it is hard to care about them. The modern Egyptian, Amal al-Ghamrawi, is more rounded, but again her edges seem to have been neatly rounded off to leave a character who, despite all her soul-searching, seems somewhat hollow. The main problem with The Map of Love is that the characters seem to have been designed to represent particular things and so perform a kind of wish-fulfilment for the author. Lady Anna is the contrite face of colonial Britain turning her back on her old life to embrace that of the people her nation is oppressing, Sharif al-Baroudi is an unusually enlightened 19th century man who disavows gender stereotypes and political violence and Amal’s brother Omar lives a successful, cosmopolitan life but remains loyal to his ethnic background. It is always obvious to the reader when a writer is using characters as a mouthpiece, and immediately interferes with any spontaneous enjoyment of the text. The Map of Love aims nobly to tell the story of modern Egypt, and does succeed to some extent, but it ultimately fails due to the lack of believable characters. Brooklyn, on the other hand, appears to be telling nothing more than the story of one unremarkable young woman, from an unremarkable town in Ireland, and her emigration to America. Eilis Lacey, the woman in question, is not even moving to New York as we know it from movies – the American sections of the book centre around a few streets of the Irish-American district of Brooklyn with its large Irish community, complete with an omnipresent parish priest. But prosaic though Eilis’ life and experiences may be, her inner world and small conflicts are rendered so thoughtfully and reverentially by Toibín they end up telling a larger story – that of the Irish emigrant experience. Eilis has never expected more than a life in Enniscorthy, working in an office until someone marries her and she devotes life to having his children, but events conspire to send her abroad to work in a department store and study bookkeeping. Initially Brooklyn is not much more exciting than Enniscorthy – Eilis lives in a Irish-run boarding house with a curfew, her days are spent wearily trekking across the shop floor and her free time taken up by evening classes and helping the priest with parish activities. But as time goes by the opportunities American life begin to open themselves up – from exposure to people of different races and cultures, to the excitement of the latest fashions. Toibín is a compassionate author who doesn’t sneer at the joy ordinary people find in ordinary things - in fact he accords these things the respect they deserve. Eilis even finds romance in America, but the slow tugs of obligation from the two sides of her life threaten to undo her when circumstances require to return home to Ireland. The premise of Brooklyn is the choice Eilis must take between her two worlds, and interestingly this choice is not presented as a clichéd split between home, obligation and repression and abroad, freedom and experimentation. On the contrary, Eilis faces potential nooses wherever she looks, and the ties that bind can take unexpected forms. Her mixture of engagement and passivity are wholly convincing as the experiences of an individual, yet also seem to encompass the thoughts and feelings of a whole generation that were put in her position. This novel has no overawed glimpses of the Manhattan skyline for the arriving immigrant, but a collection of moments – a parish hall dance, a trip to a bookshop, a day out in Coney island – to give us a truly authentic sense of the migrant experience. Brooklyn has been as carefully worked and polished as The Map of Love - the difference is the joins are not visible and the author has all but disappeared, and that is why it is the more successful work.