Mar 14, 2025
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favorite show is I Snorch Lucy on galactovision
Ivan Vaughan writes about John and Paul
This is just a relatively brief excerpt from Ivan Vaughan's book, which, for the most part, focuses on his life with Parkinson's disease. (From what I can tell so far, it's absolutely fascinating: far more than 'simply' a memoir, it's a reflection on illness, the mind-body connection, science, psychotropic drugs, patients' autonomy...and much more.)
But since this blog is climbing the drainpipe to the John & Paul business, and there's been some recent discussion of Mark Lewisohn's claim that John was such a bad boy Ivan's mother sent her son to a different grammar school to separate the two, I thought the following might be interesting.
And the ending of this chapter also gives some context to Paul's reaction to John's murder—another topic about which ML has interesting opinions.
This isn't to pile on ML, but more...as words from someone who was there.
(CC: @mythserene, @anotherkindofmindpod) I met John when I was three or four years old. One wet morning there was a knock at the front door. My mother opened it, and looking down, found a boy a bit older than me, smiling, but preoccupied with the effort of remembering what he had been rehearsed to say.
‘I believe a little boy lives here. I wondered if you might like to come out and play.’ He stood there in the porch, rain pouring down behind him, with a pair of slippers under his arm.
‘Come on in. What’s your name? You live round the corner don’t you?’
Next day I went around to the house where he lived with his aunt and uncle. We played with Dinky cars. I was surprised by his generosity and willingness to share his toys; he was happy even for me to take some of them home. When his Uncle George came home with some sweets John readily shared them. There was an immediate bond between us. He was older, read books, and his great intelligence and experience were apparent. I accepted his leadership but I was determined to preserve my independence. From the warm security of Aunt Mimi’s control, John accepted me into his life.
John was a member of his local library and immersed himself in books so that by the age of five he was already a fluent reader. I was still in the infant school when he started at Dovedale Road Primary School, but we played together after school and weekends. There were numerous parks, a golf course, and fields full of tangled growth and trees — just right for playing cowboys and Indians. In one barren area with large lumps of hard earth we played football and cricket. We spent hours digging all tracks to race our Dinky cars. Our most exciting game, though, was ‘fires’. We would go to a large area of waste ground and simply set fire to the straw and watch the place. I have never understood why nobody stopped us.
John’s gang comprised, besides himself, Pete Shotton, Nigel Wally and me. I was the youngest and was constantly having to prove my worth. I feel privileged to be John’s friend since he was nearly two years older. He protected me against Timmy Tarbuck and his gang on the rare occasions when I made the mistake of confronting one of them.
John and I went to different grammar schools, but I used to hear about the chaos and riots that seem to be a daily feature of his schooling. I’d rather lost touch with him when I went to university, and did not see him again until sometime after I was married. Then one day, as I was playing with my little boy Jus on the steps of our house in London, white Rolls Royce turned into the road. John jumped out followed by a woman I have not met before.
‘Hello, Ivy! This is Yoko.’ (…)
My attachment to both John and Paul ran deep and occasionally I would go to great lengths in order to see them at a moment’s notice. Maybe Paul saw our continuing friendship as a way of maintaining simple values he held dear. Jan liked Paul, though she did not see much of John. She was not the least bit mesmerized by their fame. She enjoyed eating at expensive restaurants in sampling London’s nightlife, into which Paul took us from time to time. But, should the effort to come to great, she was willing to let the relationship fade.
A month after telephoning John in New York [with the news of the Parkinson’s diagnosis; their first conversation in years], a heavy parcel was delivered. It was not until I was reading the titles of the books it contained that I realized they had been sent by John and Yoko. There was one by Arthur Janov, author of the Primal Scream, and one entitled Mind Magic. How to Get Well had on the fly-leaf a message from John that read ‘to start looking’, and The Snow Leopard had a note saying ‘to relax’. This last book gave me the greatest pleasure and I frequently re-read passages from it. Its author, Peter Matthiesen, lost his son through illness and journeyed in Nepal and in Inner Dolpo on a completely pointless journey to catch sight of a snow leopard. The peace he found travels across to the reader from each page.
John’s accompanying letter urged me, in punning language, to keep my spirits high and strongly suggested that it was up to me whether I sank or swam. I must not lose faith in myself.
Ten weeks later he was shot dead. Paul and I did not contact each other about it; in fact, we never brought it up in conversation. I hardly reacted outwardly at all. The day after John’s death, however, a colleague said that he supposed I was very upset at what it happened. I heard myself say: ‘I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know that I feel much at all’. As soon as he had gone, I instinctively made my way to a room where I knew I could be alone, and I wept profusely.
-- from Ivan-Living with Parkinson's Disease by Ivan Vaughan. 1986.
Meaning is created in the semantic layer of the model.
Metropolis, 1927
A BEATLE DIDN’T SAY THAT! Lewisohn’s lab-created quotes
“One of the things about this book that is a strength is it’s not me saying anything, it’s them or other people. I shape the text, I plot where it goes, I weave it, but the quotes are theirs. And so when I’ve got Paul McCartney behaving in a way some readers might think, ‘Whatever, oh dear,’ it’s actually him saying it. So you end up thinking that to his own credit he said that. It’s not me saying it.” (Mark Lewisohn, ‘Noted,’ (October 7, 2013) Somerset, Guy.)
This is hella long, and that's because it's actually a full blog post. (In case you want it in a less monstrous form.)
My personal standard is that If someone represents, “A Beatle said this,” it better damn well be something a Beatle said.
A lot of people for a long time have put a lot of trust in Mark Lewisohn’s footnotes. Or at least in the fact of those footnotes. Because once you dig through them for any length of time you quickly discover that Mark Lewisohn’s footnotes hold secrets that would get him expelled from any undergraduate program. They reveal a “history” often contrived through a mass of Frankenquotes, ala carte creations, Lewisohn rephrased ‘paraphrases,’ and worse. For some parts of the narrative things aren’t too bad, yet in others monsters lurk around every corner. But this is not the sort of thing that’s graded on a curve, and it is past time to have a conversation about what standards should be accepted in Beatles’ scholarship.
Lewisohn lists his sources unlike most others. And his footnotes alone are more insightful than some other writers’ books. (Reddit, r/beatles)
I do not judge footnotes based on their insightfulness, nor do I want to single out a redditor, but I grabbed the comment because it’s an opinion that is widely shared and even accepted as canon. At least by people who have not combed those freakish footnotes. And while the pages of piled up sources do look fearsome en masse, a closer inspection reveals an offense to the truth, a threat to the record, and a blight on Beatles’ historiography.
“The rules for writing history are obvious. Who does not perceive that its chief law is never to dare say anything false, and never dare withhold anything true? The slightest suspicion of hatred or favor must be avoided. That such should be the foundations is known to all; the materials with which the building will be raised consist of facts and words.” –Cicero
A Look at Lewisohn’s Lab-created Frankenquotes
FIRST, WHAT ARE QUOTES? AND WHY ARE QUOTES?
Quotes are the soul and center of recorded—and recording— history.
And the rules around quotes and quotation marks are pretty simple. Most people, even if they’ve never written anything beyond a term paper, understand what quotation marks represent.
A set of quotation marks means, “This person said or wrote ‘these exact words’ at some given time.” You can smash a quote from two hours before or two years before right up against a separate quote to make your point—although it might get your grade lowered—but what you cannot do is take two different statements from two different times and make them seem like they are one statement.
When you put words inside one set of quotation marks you are stating, in black and white, that the identified person made this statement. That they said all those words together—or if you want to excise a reasonable part and use ellipses to represent that— as part of the same statement.
Look, combining two separate quotes that are not part of the same thought or topic is not a subjective issue. It is not an issue of controversy. Quotes are the bone marrow of written history. Quotes are the alpha and omega. In academic work or journalism they have to be, which makes sense as soon as you think about it. If it was cool for me to take a transcript and grab half a sentence from page 2 and half a sentence from page 17, push them together as if those words were spoken one after the other in a single thought, I bet I can manage to get those words to say almost anything I want.
Separate thoughts must be in two separate quotation marks. Separate. Somewhere between four sentences and a paragraph is widely accepted as the “two separate quotes” line, and there can be some ethical and technical wiggle room in a long rant by a person, but what makes all that subjective nonsense go out the window is if the quotes come from two separate questions. Or two separate days. That’s two quotes. Not hard.
Which again, makes sense if the point is conveying information to the reader and lessening the chance of a writer manipulating someone else’s words to express something that the person didn’t mean.
This is the contract inherent in a quote. These are the rules we all agree to and understand, and these are the reasons why. And there’s no reason to break them.
Why do you want me to believe that John said these two things at one time? What was wrong with what he did say?
THE FOUR MOST COMMON WAYS MARK LEWISOHN MAULS THE MEANING OF THE QUOTE:
The Basic Lewisohn Frankenquote 🧟♂️
(“CONCLUDING FIVE WORDS FROM—” – I cannot even see the point of this THREE PART monster. Full footnote reads: 9) Author interview with Tony Meehan, September 6, 1995. (“I met George again in 1968 and for some reason he was harboring a grudge against me. He was very, very uptight about it—’You blocked us getting a recording contract …’ ”) First part of George quote from interview by Terry David Mulligan, The Great Canadian Gold Rush, CBC radio, May 30 and June 6, 1977; concluding five words from interview for The Beatles Anthology)
This three-headed monster attributed to George Harrison is a very dull little guy. Not particularly venomous. Just convenient, I guess. For whatever reason, Mark Lewisohn decided it was worth rummaging through the quote buffet until he collected enough pieces for George Harrison to say this thing. “…concluding five words from…” What are we even doing here? No, really. Please tell me.
And like a lot of the footnotes for these bespoke quotations, there are further problems. “[F]rom interview for Beatles Anthology”? An interview that aired? In one of the episodes? Can you narrow it down? I guess I’ll just have to listen very closely to them all and hope I don’t miss the five words.
But if we got bogged down in the sorts of trivial details that would immediately lose a college student a letter grade off a History 101 paper we would never get anywhere. We have to stick to the violent felonies.
*Love the "George would say——" Uh, would he? Well, I guess after all that trouble you went to, he would now. It's really incredible how cavalier Lewisohn is about a Beatle's words.
These sorts of reconstituted, lab-engineered, made up “quotes” are shot throughout Tune In. “Quotes” made up of words from two, three, and even four sources, spoken months or often years apart.
Ala Carte Creations 🍱
It really is a buffet, and these ala carte creations come in all shapes and sizes. They might just be words that have been plucked up and glued back together to make something more useful to a particular narrative. (Ellipses or dash optional.)
TUNE IN: “John saw a bigger picture, and it would be surprising if it wasn’t equally obvious, or made obvious, to Brian and George. He likened Paul’s enduring snag with Brian to his other long-standing difficulty: ‘[Brian] and Paul didn’t get along—it was a bit like [Stuart and Paul] between the two of them.’” (Footnote 37: Interview by Peter McCabe and Robert D. Schonfeld, September 1971)
Bonus 🍒 Phoebe's dramatic reading of John's original quote:
The Donut 🍩
Then there are a seemingly uncountable number of “quotes” with a sentence or three ripped out from the middle, but with zero representation that more words were ever there. (And in most of these particular deceptions, the simple representation of something excised (. . .) would make the quote fine. There are a lot of these, but they are also the easiest to fix.)
Chapter 10: “I was in a sort of blind rage for two years. [I was e]ither drunk or fighting. **It had been the same with other girlfriends I’d had.** There was something the matter with me.”
And then there are the true buffet bonanzas, words lifted and twisted beyond recognition until they say something brand spanking new.
However, John remembered Paul’s attitude to Brian being very different. John was always emphatic that Paul didn’t want Brian as the Beatles’ manager and presented obstacles to destabilize him, to make his job difficult … like turning up late for meetings. “Three of us chose Epstein. Paul used to sulk and God knows what … [Paul] wasn’t that keen [on Brian]—he’s more conservative, the way he approaches things. He even says that: it’s nothing he denies.”
The Lewisohn Remixes 🍸
And then there are the “paraphrases.” I couldn’t even begin to guess how many of these there are, and often they aren’t even paraphrases, but whole new Mark Lewisohn re-interpretations with quotation marks slapped around them. But if you don’t check, you probably won’t know, because like this Lewisohn rewrite of a well-known Mrs. Harrison quote, there’s a good chance you’ll recognize the bulk of it, making it less likely that you’ll catch the scalpel work excising Paul. And while I don’t want to get caught in the nooks and crannies of intent in an example like this one I have to say, just this once, that what has to be a purposeful excising of Paul to create a slightly new quote on one side, combined with a badly acted, bad faith—(or bad scholar)—“Where was Paul when John’s mom died?” on the other, is par for the course.
George Harrison’s mom’s made up Lewisohn rephrase which coincidentally removes Paul from the imagery.] ❦ LEWISOHN:“ Asked some years later to describe how he’d been able to help John cope with the loss of Julia, Paul could remember nothing of the period at all. It could be they didn’t see much of each other in the summer of 1958. John was working at the airport, and Paul and George went on holiday together—adventurous for boys of 16 and 15. But Louise Harrison would recall how she encouraged George to visit John at Mendips, “so he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.” ❦ DAVIES: “They were still practicing a lot at George’s house, the only house where they got endless hospitality and encouragement. . . . I forced George to go round and see him, to make sure he still went off playing in their group and just didn’t sit and brood. They all went through a lot together, even in those early days, and they always helped each other.”
Why do you have to slice and dice and reconstitute people’s words? No writer, and certainly no historian, should ever feel empowered to take words from a historical figure from two or three different places and topics and times, splice them together, and tell us, “Winston Churchill said this.” No he didn’t! Why are you so intent on changing the words of the people you’re writing about? What’s wrong with just using two different quotes?
You cannot take two or three quotes from two or three or even four separate statements, stick them between one set of quotation marks and say John or Paul or George or Joe Smith said this.
No they didn’t. They never said that. Why do you want me to think they did??
All these words are Abraham Lincoln’s, but this is not a Lincoln quote:
“Every man is said to have his peculiar ambition. Whether it be true or not, I can say for one that I have no other so great as that of — making a most discreditable exhibition of myself.”
(I kept it ridiculous, although I didn’t have to.)
But I want you, the reader, to be saying to yourself, “Okay, enough already. I get it!” Because in the last few days I have wandered too far into the weeds too many times and written far too many words detailing the multiplicity of ways Mr. Lewisohn does violence to each and every law of reporting historical facts, and could write many more. And I will post a more detailed list of the crimes against the quote that I am charging Mark Lewisohn with as we go forward, but I don’t think we need that now. The fact is that every fair-minded person knows what quotation marks represent, and there is no more fair-minded group of people than serious Beatles fans and scholars. And it is those fair-minded scholars who I want most to hear me. Whether you’ve written books or host a podcast or just know that you know a whole lot of stuff and take seriously your part of the trust in preserving the truth about The Beatles for us and future generations, it is you I am really talking to. My Cicero quoting-freaks. The ones who care about getting it right.
“The chief, the only, aim of style is to put facts in a clear light, with no concealment.” - Lucian of Samosata
What footnotes can do, and what footnotes can’t.
You can list multiple sources in a single footnote. That’s not only fine, it’s correct. If I want to tell part of a story based on several sources, that often means several sources in a footnote. But not for one, single quote.
The problem isn’t the footnote, it’s the bioengineered quote on the page that you swept under a footnote hoping I wouldn’t notice.
Which leads us to what a footnote is not. A footnote is not a post-hoc fixative for your textual sins. You cannot do whatever you want as long as you confess it in a footnote. A footnote is not a magic spell. A footnote is not the universally understood symbol for “I have my fingers crossed behind my back.” You cannot fix lies and misrepresentations in the footnotes. Footnotes aren’t for trying to chase down three different sources to match up which part of a manufactured “quote” someone said on which date. Footnotes are not the picture on the front of a puzzle box. I should not need to find corner pieces to figure out which of these George Harrison words were actually spoken together.
Footnotes are a truthful and independently verifiable record of primary sources. It’s that simple.
And taking Mark Lewisohn completely out of the picture for a moment, I feel sure we can all agree that neither John Lennon nor Paul McCartney nor George Harrison nor Ritchie Starkey would want anyone rearranging their words as if they were guitar chords. You wouldn’t take three-quarters of Penny Lane and one-quarter of Across the Universe, put them together and call it a Beatles‘ song. So don’t take three quarters of John to Jann Wenner and one-quarter of John to Lisa Robinson, put them together and call it a Beatle’s quote.
MY PERSONAL STANDARD IS THAT IF SOMEONE REPRESENTS, “A BEATLE SAID THIS,” IT BETTER DAMN WELL BE SOMETHING A BEATLE SAID.
None of the Beatles, dead or alive, would be cool with their words being taken out of context at all, let alone two or three different statements on god knows what being combined into one. This isn’t hard, though. Use two or three separate quotation marks, and don’t take statements out of context. Don’t mix and match their words, but don’t twist them, either. If a person said something, it is the historian’s duty to represent those words to the best of your ability, and then use them to tell a factual story focused on what you feel is important. Staying true to the original words and true to their meaning. If you can’t use those words without twisting them, then change your story to fit their words, not the other way around. If their statement helps tell the story your way, use it! For goodness sake, John Lennon said at least two opposing things about almost every topic on earth, so there should be enough to choose from without being deceptive. I actually want the truth. Don’t you?
Biography is story based around accurately represented, trustworthy and verifiable facts. And look, Beatles fans, whoever your favorite is: we are not going to get the truth about his history if we don’t learn to take these things seriously. Let’s have—if not high standards—at least the lowest generally accepted standards. In the mid-term we need a lot more Beatles scholars with a lot more points of view, and now—right now—we need experienced Beatles scholars to prioritize searching out and finding smart, interested people to mentor. And we simply must ensure that we aren’t allowing to solidify into stone “facts” that are not facts and statements no one ever made. I don’t think any honest Beatles fan—(which rounds up to all of them)—wants any question around that issue.
The record is the most important thing. Now, and always. This is not about John versus Paul. John versus Paul may live on always in our hearts, but for Beatles history, it’s the wrong question. I’d rather someone be up front about their loves, but in the end the focus should be on representing the primary facts in their most pristine form. Love who you love most, but place truth above all. Pristine facts. Pristine quotes. Nothing hidden. Nothing misrepresented.
Let the historical actors speak for themselves. That is their right.
And the historian’s duty.
NEXT, WE DISSECT A MONSTER.
Final note: I became frustrated and (maybe strangely) offended by Lewisohn's obscene pretenses in 2020, but my frustrations were nebulous and unfocused until this incredible AKOM series. I feel much better now. Angrier. But better. They worked their asses off. 🥂
Needle rotary analog valves fine tuning pressure sound system..
Mocking Paul
Tune In’s take on Paul’s “Uncool” Musical Tastes
NOTE: The purpose of this analysis is not to exaggerate the severity of John’s onstage behavior which could have (at least occasionally) been conducted in good fun and camaraderie. The object is to determine whether or not Tune In is capable of presenting John’s disruptive and/or undermining behavior objectively in a way that allows the reader to judge the appropriateness of such behavior.
–
Multiple times throughout the book, Lewisohn writes with seeming approval about John undercutting Paul’s “soft” songs or musical tastes.
Here are five examples of this happening live, onstage:
On page 614, Lewisohn tells us how “Paul would flutter his eyelashes when he sang certain songs,” and calls "Somewhere Over the Rainbow” “one of [Paul’s] flutter numbers, guaranteed to go down a storm with the girls.”
Tune In describes John teasing Paul onstage: “John 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.”
Of this, Lewisohn writes, “There were always several simultaneous reasons why an audience couldn’t take their eyes off the Beatles.”
About “Besame Mucho,” we get a quote from Lindy Ness: “When Paul sang ‘Besame Mucho,’ John used to stand behind him and make cripple faces. He had to: Paul was asking for it.” (p761).
During “A Taste of Honey,” John interrupts Paul’s performance by yelling at the audience. Lewisohn calls this behavior an example of “the Nerk Twins’ chemistry” (p1178).
When Paul sings “Till There Was You,” “[John] speaks most of the lines in a persistent piss-taking echo: ‘No, I never heard them at all’ (‘No, he never heard them’)” and Lewisohn writes, “[Paul’s] not even necessarily cross about it—he knows it’ll happen because this is John, and John is his fairground hero.” He also writes, “It’s part of the double-act, one among so many reasons they're special together” (p1178).
Also about “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” (p615).
Does it sound like John is preoccupied with projecting a “cool” image? We think so. Perhaps his undermining behavior garnered the praise and approval of a few (like Lindy Ness), but it could hardly be described as supportive of his partner (or reflective of good “leadership”).
And yet, Tune In always assures us that John is being awesome. Sometimes even a "hero."
Instead of dispassionately framing John’s behavior as immature or insecure upstaging, Lewisohn calls John’s attention-seeking antics a part of John and Paul’s “chemistry,” which is “special” and a “[reason] why an audience couldn’t take their eyes off the Beatles.”
And, of course, we hear once again that John is Paul’s “fairground hero.”
Somehow, by mocking Paul doing his “flutter numbers” John is “recognizing there’s scope for all kinds of music.”
Note that, according to Tune In, Paul himself isn’t recognizing scope by choosing and singing the songs (even in the face of mockery); John is recognizing scope by allowing him to do it (while simultaneously making fun of him for it).
–
Our final example is one where John doesn’t even allow Paul to finish his performance, and Tune In uses this to pay John the biggest compliment yet.
Regarding the Beatles’ live performance of Elvis’s hit single “Are You Lonesome Tonight”, only days after its release:
“Paul set down his guitar, clasped the microphone and did his Elvis act, the great solo star crooning his new slow one. It was already going to pot when he went into the long spoken-word middle section about ‘all the world’s a stage,’ which he’d crammed into his brain inside a few hours … and then John just stopped the group dead.
Refusing to be involved in anything so corny, John completely took the piss out of Paul, ripping his close mate and bandmate to shreds in front of everyone. ‘They sent me up rotten,’ Paul says, ‘especially John. They all but laughed me off the stage.’”
So from this description and Paul’s quote, we can surmise that the Beatles had rehearsed and prepared the number, “spoken-word middle section” and all. Why then, did John not object to the corny, spoken-word interlude during rehearsal? Assuming John’s mid-performance "piss-take" was not a comedy routine pre-planned by all the Beatles, this anecdote suggests that John knowingly set Paul up for public ridicule and relished the opportunity to pull the rug out from under him onstage.
To be clear, this would be a perfectly fine choice if Paul was in on the joke and consented to the bit. But deliberately setting Paul up to fail is unambiguously un-cool.
Nevertheless, here’s how Lewisohn justifies John’s behavior:
“This was the way John dealt with things, and he also knew the Beatles must have a solid front line, not back a soloist. As he said, ‘Every group had a lead singer in a pink jacket singing Cliff Richard-type songs. We were the only group that didn’t … and that was how we broke through, by being different'” (586).
There’s no reason to connect John’s quote about “being different” to this anecdote (the footnote indicates his quote is taken from a December 1969 interview called “Pop Goes the Bulldog”) except to spin John’s behavior in the noblest way possible.
Paul wasn’t trying to be “a lead singer in a pink jacket”—he was merely taking the lead vocal just as John and George did in their turn. Did John also stop the band dead in the middle of his own solo spots, in order to ensure they kept a “solid front line” that would allow them to “[break] through by being different"? Of course not. John is simply covering his embarrassment here, insecure about perceived softness, and seeking negative attention.
(For readers who may think we're overblowing this topic, imagine for a moment if Paul was doing this to George Harrison onstage. Would Paul’s behavior be praised?)
It’s outrageous for Lewisohn to spin John's every behavior into something awesome (“audiences couldn’t take their eyes off”; “fairground hero”), visionary (“we broke through by being different”), egalitarian (“solid front line”) broad-minded (“recognizing there was scope for all kinds of music”), and indicative of a GOOD PARTNER, actually (“part of the double-act”; “Nerk Twins’ chemistry”; “special together”).
Meanwhile, Paul is “asking for it” by doing “flutter numbers” “guaranteed to go down a storm with the girls,” “making his eyes big,” being “so corny,” and trying to be “the great solo star,” like a Cliff Richard knockoff “in a pink jacket.” Does this portrayal look even-handed?
—//—
FULL EXCERPTS:
“[‘Are You Lonesome Tonight’] came out in Britain on Friday, January 13, and they did it the next night at Aintree Institute. Paul set down his guitar, clasped the microphone and did his Elvis act, the great solo star crooning his new slow one. It was already going to pot when he went into the long spoken-word middle section about ‘all the world’s a stage,’ which he’d crammed into his brain inside a few hours … and then John just stopped the group dead.
Refusing to be involved in anything so corny, he completely took the piss out of Paul, ripping his close mate and bandmate to shreds in front of everyone. ‘They sent me up rotten,’ Paul says, ‘especially John. They all but laughed me off the stage.’ This was the way John dealt with things, and he also knew the Beatles must have a solid front line, not back a soloist. As he said, ‘Every group had a lead singer in a pink jacket singing Cliff Richard-type songs. We were the only group that didn’t … and that was how we broke through, by being different’” (586).
—//—
“We always requested Paul to sing ‘Long Tall Sally.’ He used to say, ‘I can’t do it because it kills me throat,’ but then he would. He’d announce, ‘I’m doing this one for these two flossies over here,’ or something like that. Girls used to say his eyes were like mince pies. He had long eyelashes and would deliberately flutter them, and though you knew he was always aware of himself, he was so friendly to everybody that you couldn’t help but like him.’ —BERNADETTE FARRELL
One of the flutter numbers was ‘Over the Rainbow,’ guaranteed to go down a storm with the girls. The song from The Wizard of Oz seemed a strange choice, but the Beatles considered it valid because Gene Vincent did it. Paul sang it somewhere between the two versions, pausing impressively after the heightened ‘Somewhere’ and then sweetly rolling down. Cavern girls would get used to the sight: he made his eyes big, turned his face up and slightly at an angle and fixed his gaze above their heads on a brick at the far end of the center tunnel.
Sometimes John joined in with fine harmonies, but mostly he took the piss. Pete says that 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. There were always several simultaneous reasons why an audience couldn’t take their eyes off the Beatles.
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,’ as covered in a new version by Peggy Lee—or Peggy Leg, as Paul called her. (He was given her record by his cousin Bett Robbins.) 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 … just so long as no one went near jazz” (614-15).
—//—
“LINDY NESS: ‘When Paul sang “Besame Mucho,” John used to stand behind him and make cripple faces. He had to: Paul was asking for it. But John wasn’t particular—he also took the piss out of George and Pete, mostly by imitations of some kind’” (761).
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The tape throws great light on the Nerk Twins’ chemistry. While Paul is singing ‘A Taste of Honey,’ John suddenly shouts ‘SHUT UP TALKING!’ to someone in the audience, interrupting Paul much more than the chatterbox. Paul knows this, and is pitched into laughter. When he sings ‘Till There Was You,’ John—just a beat behind—speaks most of the lines in a persistent piss-taking echo: ‘No, I never heard them at all’ (‘No, he never heard them’). Paul chuckles and plows on; he can’t stop it, and he’s not even necessarily cross about it—he knows it’ll happen because this is John, and John is his fairground hero. It’s part of the double-act: the audience try to watch the singer but can’t tear their eyes off his mate, who’s probably also pulling crips. John couldn’t do this to anyone else without risking a thump, Paul wouldn’t accept it from anyone else; Paul gets to sing his song, John gets to undermine him. It’s just one facet of the complex sibling relationship they’ve always had, one among so many reasons they’re special together” (1178).
Hi! I'm looking at buying a couple Binders in the next few days, and I'm trying to finalize in my mind exactly how I want the fine-tuning aspects. I've been thinking about getting them for a while now!
I was wondering how high you are willing to make the neck line? From pictures Ive seen it looks like maybe a u-cut normally, and then the higher neck option. But are you willing to do crew neck or even mock necks?
Thank you so much! I'm so excited to finally order soon!
I hope you all are having a good day!
Hi! We can go up to a crew neck, BUT: consider how close-fit these are, and how much of a struggle it takes you personally to get into one. Know that the higher the neck, the harder it will be to wrestle into.
