John Lennon, Paul McCartney And Ringo Starr During Rehearsals For The Beatles' First Appearance On Ready,

“Nowadays, McCartney’s problem is one of perceptions, publicly and his own self-perception, I think. He’s always leaned toward the grand, the orchestral; his musical progression away from the rigid rock & roll rules is entirely natural – if not well received – all the way to 1992’s Liverpool Oratorio. His rock & roll performances of late are often retreads of his older material – Unplugged, Live in Russia – and well they should be; he’s not a 20-year-old Beatle, and he’s not trying to be. If you’re disappointed with Paul for not somehow matching his work with the Beatles, as I often was growing up, reroute your expectations. That innocence is long gone. Just look at the black-and-white footage of him singing ‘Yesterday’ as compared to the footage of him doing ‘Let It Be.’ There’s something so sweet in his arched eyebrows, quivering smile and shy eyes that barely glance at the camera, that’s been totally eradicated by the bearded, bloated ‘Let It Be’ performance – by which time he’s aware that the eye of the camera is the face of the audience, and he won’t let it go. And now he’s stuck with the task of growing old gracefully, knowing full well that the single eye is holding him accountable for his every move. He should have followed Lennon’s lead by behaving like an ass – under the guise of the naked truth no one questions your motives. People confuse purported “total honesty” with integrity. That’s why Lennon was allowed to say whatever he damn well pleased about whomever he damn well pleased and still change his mind the next week with impunity. He was the Honest Beatle. […] My final point is this (and I do have one): I don’t want Paul McCartney to go down in history as a pussy-whipped vegetarian goofball in linen suits and high tops, always pointing at the crowd woo-hooing and yee-hawing, like somebody’s dad on Karaoke night. I don’t want him to pass quietly in the night not having heard in a very long time that his music thrilled, aroused, and colored some peoples’ lives to a greater degree than his wildest ego-rides could even imagine. I want to tell him that his voice is as familiar to me as a family member and, in the direst times, has calmed me like my father’s hand. I want to tell him that my best friend is my best friend because she always skips to the McCartney songs on Beatles’ albums and because she gave me a copy of Live in Russia. I want to tell him that I just may marry my boyfriend because he thinks ‘The Ballad of John and Yoko’ was saved by Paul’s drumming and harmony on the chorus. I want to tell Paul all this, and I want to tell him now, because if there’s one glaring reminder to take home from the Beatles [Anthology] special it’s that when a musical idol dies, there simply is no more music. Yes, I know, John, the dream is over, but I still believe in Beatles. Namely Paul.”

— Mindy LaBernz, Austin Chronicle: In Defense of Paul McCartney. (December 15th, 1995)

John looking adorably awkward while on stage without the boys, collecting his ‘Runner Up: British Vocal Personality’ prize at the NME Poll Winners All-Star Concert, 11th April 1965

John being incredibly relieved to see Paul again after what feels like an hour, and finally able to read that his trophy says ‘Runner Up’

“When you start with the Beatles, your résumé looks pretty good,” Chris O’Dell says. A new documentary charts the extent of that CV, as a music manager with bands including Fleetwood Mac, Genesis and Santana, but it all began with a chance encounter in Los Angeles in 1968.

Derek Taylor was heading publicity at the Beatles’ company, Apple Corps, and O’Dell was a low-level assistant in radio promotion. When Taylor suggested she come work at the Apple office in London, she dropped everything and moved halfway across the world. “Paul [McCartney] was there every day organising everything,” she says, on the phone from her home in Arizona. “One day he came into my office and said, ‘Chris, should we use paper towels or cloth towels in the bathroom?’ That’s how detailed he was.”

(source)

1968 Paul I am obsessed with you

angry kitten after failed attempt to steal the food crying screaming

“George told me once that I smelt like home. I got all paranoid, you know, thinking I smelt of fish and chip shops or dirty bars or something. But he said no, I just always smelt of home.” — Paul McCartney

“It used to be PaulnGeorge… as one word. They were the kids from the grammar school. That’s how we referred to them. For ages we didn’t even know George really, he was just ‘Paul’s mate’.” — Len Garry

“The papers try and stir things and act like there’s some kind of problem, but at the end of the day, I love him, he’s my mate and that’s all there is to it.” — George Harrison

“Paul and George always ganged up on people. Like Stuart. They could get pretty bitchy.” — John Lennon

“They used to spend all of their spare time together. Even the school holidays.” — Hunter Davis

“George didn’t mind slagging Paul off. But he HATED other people doing it.” — Tom Petty

THE BEATLES playing live at Indra Club, Hamburg, 1960.

im. still. normal.

The Beatles wearing a giant sweater, knitted for them by three Swedish fans, backstage at London’s Hammersmith Odeon during Another Beatles Christmas Show, December 1964. Photo: The Beatles Book.

The story behind this sweater: It was knitted for The Beatles by three Swedish fans (Pia Karlander, Ulla Blomquist and Elizabeth Berg, of Stockholm). The Beatles Book’s March 1965 explains…

“[T]hat giant sweater which was sent to The Beatles at the Hammersmith Odeon when they were appearing in their Christmas Show. The boys liked it so much that they wore it almost every night from then on for one of their quick appearances on stage.” (x)

by shaunaxbst