#interview: john

[tavolgisvist]

'I look in the mirror'

19 February 1963, the Cavern, photo by Michael Ward

Photo by Mike McCartney

August 13, 1966, photo by Bob Bonis

We wrote with two guitars, John and I. And, as I’ve mentioned previously, the joy of that was that I was left-handed while he was right handed, so I was looking in a mirror and he was looking in a mirror. We would always tune up, have a ciggie, drink a cup of tea, start playing some stuff, look for an idea. Normally, one or the other of us would arrive with a fragment of a song. ‘Please Please Me’ was a John idea. John liked the double meaning of ‘please’. Yeah, ‘please’ is, you know, pretty please. ‘Please have intercourse with me. So, pretty please, have intercourse with me, I beg you to have intercourse with me.’ He liked that, and I liked that he liked that. This was the kind of thing we’d see in each other, the kind of thing in which we were matched up. We were in sync.

(Paul McCartney, about Please Please Me in The Lyrics, 2021)

gifs by javelinbk

A lot of what we had going for us was that we were both good at noticing the stuff that just pops up, and grabbing it. And the other thing is that John and I had each other. If he was sort of stuck for a line, I could finish it. If I was stuck for somewhere to go, he could make a suggestion. We could suggest the way out of the maze to each other, which was a very handy thing to have. We inspired each other.

(Paul McCartney, about Eight Days A Week in The Lyrics, 2021)

gifs by nikidontsurf

When John and I met, the first year of our friendship was spent talking about these cover versions, the records we loved, and then playing them again and again. As we got to know each other, we practised these various covers until one day the conversation went, ‘You know, I’ve written one or two songs.’ And he said, ‘Yeah, so have I.’ That gave us something in common that was itself wholly uncommon. I went to a school of a thousand boys and I’d never met anyone who said he’d written a song. Mine were just in my head. So were John’s. We took each other by surprise. And then the logical extension was, ‘Well, maybe we could write one together.’ So that’s how we started. And we became versions of each other.

(Paul McCartney, about The Other Me in The Lyrics, 2021)

gifs by stewy

Q: "Can I ask you about Lewis Carroll?" A: "Oh, Lewis Carroll. I always admit to that because I love 'Alice In Wonderland' and 'Alice Through The Looking Glass.' But I didn't even know he'd written anything else. I was that ignorant. I just happened to get those for birthday presents as a child and liked them. And I usually read those two about once a year, because I still like them."

(John Lennon, June 16, 1965, interview for BBC)

Paul McCartney in his garden at Cavendish Avenue, 7; photo by Barry Lategan (for Observer 'What Makes A Man Stylish?', July 1968)

I think of the imagined world of Lewis Carroll [Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There] that John and I both loved so much.

(Paul McCartney, about I’ll Get You in The Lyrics, 2021)

We’d been together so much that if you had a question, we would both pretty much come up with the same answer. [about their hitchhike to Spain by way of Paris] <…> It’s a bit crude, but it’s fair to say that, in general, I’d had a good life and John hadn’t. His life had been tougher, and he had to develop a harder shell than I did. He was quite a cynical guy but, as they say, with a heart of gold. A big softy, but his shield was hard. So that was very good for the two of us. Opposites attract. I could calm him down, and he could fire me up. We could see things in each other that the other needed to be complete.

(Paul McCartney about Ticket To Ride in The Lyrics, 2021)

Sometimes I look in the mirror Is nobody there? But I just keep on staring and staring No Can it be? Can it be? Can it be? And if I look in the mirror And nobody´s there But I just keep on staring, and staring No Is it me? Is it me? Is it me?

(John Lennon, circa 1977)

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I just can't face it no more Every time I look in the mirror I don't see anybody there Wooh!

(I Don’t Wanna Face It)

+ Got Back Tour

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[tavolgisvist]

As I read the other day, he [Paul] said in one of his ‘fanzine’ interviews that he was trying to put some distance between The Beatles and the public – and so there was this identity of Sgt Pepper. Intellectually, that’s the same thing he did by writing ‘He loves you’ instead of ‘I love you.’ That’s just his way of working.

(John Lennon, 1980, All We Are Saying, David Sheff)

“Even if I’m writing something very specific, I veil it. If I want to write about loneliness, it will be Eleanor Rigby who carries the can. “With Little Willow, I was very affected by Maureen’s death. The fragility of life is in that song. But it wasn’t called Maureen, if you get what I’m saying. It was called Little Willow.”

(Paul McCartney on the Nineties, jamming with Ringo and life with wife Linda by Simon Cosyns, The Irish Sun, 7 Aug 2020)

[tavolgisvist]

Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly A girl with kaleidoscope eyes <…> Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes And she's gone

(Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, 1967)

Trying to possess it makes it go away. Trying to possess somebody makes them go away. Every time you put your finger on it, it slips away. Every time you turn the microscope’s light on, the thing changes so you can never see what it is. As soon as you ask the question, it goes away. Peripheral vision is what it is. There’s no looking directly at it. Try to look at the sun. You go blind, right? Now that doesn’t mean you don’t have to work on it. Love is a flower and you have to water it.

(John Lennon, interview with David Sheff for Playboy, September, 1980)

[tavolgisvist]

Q: 'When I’m Sixty-Four'? A: Paul’s completely. I would never even dream of writing a song like that.

There’s some things I never think about, and that’s one of them.

(John Lennon, 1980, All We Are Saying by David Sheff)

Grow old along with me The best is yet to be When our time has come We will be as one <…> Grow old along with me Two branches of one tree Face the setting Sun When the day is done

(Grow Old with Me, 1980)

[tavolgisvist]

I've had enough

(x)

I’d been keeping largely quiet about John and The Beatles split-up in the press. I didn’t really have many accusations to fling, but being John, he was flinging quite a few in interviews [with Jann Wenner for Rolling Stone]. <…> John would say things like, ‘It was rubbish. The Beatles were crap.’ Also, ‘I don’t believe in The Beatles, I don’t believe in Jesus, I don’t believe in God’ [Plastic Ono Band album]. Those were quite hurtful barbs to be flinging around, and I was the person they were being flung at, and it hurt. So, I’m having to read all this stuff, and on the one hand I’m thinking, ‘Oh fuck off, you fucking idiot,’ but on the other hand I’m thinking, ‘Why would you say that? Are you annoyed at me or are you jealous or what?’ <…> I was sort of answering him here [Dear Friend], asking, ‘Does it need to be this hurtful?’ I think this is a good line: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ meaning, ‘Why is this argument going on? Is it because you’re afraid of something? Are you afraid of the split-up? Are you afraid of my doing something without you? Are you afraid of the consequences of your actions?’ And the little rhyme, ‘Or is it true?’ Are all these hurtful allegations true? This song came out in that kind of mood. It could have been called ‘What the Fuck, Man?’ but I’m not sure we could have gotten away with that then.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present)

“When I slagged off the Beatle thing in the papers, it was like divorce pangs, and me being me it was blast this and fuck that, and it was just like the old days in the Melody Maker, you know, ‘Lennon Blasts Hollies’ on the back page. You know, I’ve always had a bit of a mouth and I’ve got to live up to it. Daily Mirror: ‘Lennon beats up local DJ at Paul’s 21st birthday party’. <…> “So y’see, all that happened when I blew my mouth off was that it was an abscess bursting, except that mine as usual burst in public. <…> …the trouble is people just wanted bigmouth Lennon to shout about the lows. So I made a quick trip to uncover the hidden stones of my mind, and a lot of the bats flew and some of them are going to have to stay. I’ve got perspective now, that’s a fact.

(John Lennon, interview with Ray Coleman for Melody Maker: Lennon – a night in the life, September 14th, 1974)

John actually had Allen Klein and Yoko in the room, suggesting lyrics during writing sessions. In his song ‘How Do You Sleep?’ the line ‘The only thing you done was yesterday’ was apparently Allen Klein’s suggestion, and John said, ‘Hey, great. Put that in.’ I can see the laughs they had doing it, and I had to work very hard not to take it too seriously, but at the back of my mind I was thinking, ‘Wait a minute, All I ever did was “Yesterday”? I suppose that’s a funny pun, but all I ever did was “Yesterday”, “Let It Be”, “The Long and Winding Road”, “Eleanor Rigby”, “Lady Madonna”, . . . – fuck you, John.’

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present)

['How Do You Sleep']’s not serious. Like, if Paul was really, really hurt by it, I’ll soo– I’ll know by the vibes, come round. Even if he doesn’t call, well, I’ll explain it to him. I’ll even write to him, you know. If he really really thinks it’s – thinks it’s really really serious. 

(John Lennon,September 9th, 1971, interview with Howard Smith)

Then we had that fight Paul and me had through the Melody Maker, but it was a period I had to go through.

(John Lennon, interview with Ray Coleman for Melody Maker: Lennon – a night in the life, September 14th, 1974)

As it happened, I was in New York that day [30 January 1972], having met with John the day before. It was a meeting at which we more or less agreed to stop sniping at each other.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present)

On January 19, 1975 John Lennon in a letter to Derek Taylor: BOWIES CUTTIN “UNIVERSE” (LET IT BEATLE). AM A GONNA BE THERE (BY REQUEST OF COURSET). THEN POSSIBLEY DOWN TO NEW ORLEONS TO SEE THE McCARTKNEES.

(Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift (Genesis Publications, Guildford, 1984) in in The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

Mardi Gras season was due to begin on Monday, February 10, with the main parade sweeping through town on “Fat Tuesday” itself—the date John and May had targeted for their visit to New Orleans. Sehorn and Toussaint warned Paul that the studio would be inaccessible during the peak of the festivities, and said they were considering closing Sea-Saint completely for the week starting February 10. Wings now had the perfect excuse to put the sessions on hold and throw themselves into the celebratory atmosphere. But Paul’s hope of sharing that celebration with John were dashed during the overdubbing sessions on February 6, when John phoned Sea Saint and the receptionist patched his call through to the control room. “The separation didn’t work out,” Lennon joked, telling Paul that he had moved back to the Dakota on February 3—just as Paul was recording ‘Call Me Back Again,’ the song he started just after reconnecting with John in Los Angeles [March-April 1974]—and that he and Yoko were hoping to work things out.

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

‘I was going down to New Orleans to help out on Paul’s last album Venus and Mars, but I was too busy being happy at the time. If you’re reading this, Paul, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it…’

[…] And then, of course, there’s Yoko. ‘We are back together now. and happier than over before. It’s the old, old story—when you get someone back that you’ve lost it’s better than ever.’ It was the reconciliation which so involved John that he couldn’t tear himself away to work with McCartney in New Orleans.”

(John Lennon, 1975, interview with Penny Grant for Game: Enjoying the big apple)

Paul leaves to take a telephone call.

LINDA: I was just going to say that I think if John had lived, he might still be saying, “OH, I’m much happier now….” <…> PLAYBOY: But wasn’t it clear that John wanted only to work with Yoko? LINDA: No. I know that Paul was desperate to write with John again. And I know John was desperate to write . . . desperate. People thought, Well, he’s taking care of Sean, he’s a househusband and all that, but he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t write and it drove him crazy. And Paul could have helped him–easily.

(Paul and Linda McCartney, Dec.1984, interview with Joan Goodman for Playboy, 1984)

PLAYBOY: "Aside from the millions you've been offered for a reunion concert, how did you feel about producer Lorne Michaels' generous offer of $3200 for appearing together on 'Saturday Night Live'..?" LENNON: "Oh, yeah. Paul and I were together watching that show [April 26, 1976]. He was visiting us at our place in the Dakota. We were watching it and almost went down to the studio, just as a gag. We nearly got into a cab, but we were actually too tired." PLAYBOY: "How did you and Paul happen to be watching TV together?" LENNON: "That was a period when Paul just kept turning up at our door with a guitar. <…> …he and Linda walked in and he and I were just sitting there, watching the show, and we went, 'Ha-ha, wouldn't it be funny if we went down?' but we didn't."

(John Lennon, 1980, interview with David Sheff for Playboy)

Paul recounts the SNL story a few months after it happened

(audio)

Backstage after the first show [May 24, 1976] McCartney phoned his old songwriting partner at the Dakota. Paul had expected John not to attend, but hoped that he might*. He would miss the second show [May 25] too, because he and Yoko were flying to Los Angeles that day. “They said they were glad the show went well. And we left it at that,” Paul reported. John did, however, request a pair of tickets to the second show for Sean’s babysitter.

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

*Why it was so important (and John knew it)

During their trip [27-30 April 1977] the McCartneys were also hoping for a springtime reunion with John and Yoko and paid a surprise visit to the Dakota. But their timing was terrible: John and Yoko were busily preparing for an upcoming trip to Japan while also dealing with Sean as he approached the Terrible Twos. The McCartneys did not make it past the front door of Apartment 72.

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

It's ten years since I really communicated with him. I know as much about him as he does about me, which is zilch. About two years ago, he turned up at the door. I said, 'Look, do you mind ringin' first? I've just had a hard day with the baby. I'm worn out and you're walkin' in with a damn guitar!"

(John Lennon, The September 29th 1980 issue of Newsweek)

LENNON: "That was a period when Paul just kept turning up at our door with a guitar. I would let him in, but finally I said to him, 'Please call before you come over. It's not 1956 and turning up at the door isn't the same anymore. You know, just give me a ring.' He was upset by that, but I didn't mean it badly. I just meant that I was taking care of a baby all day and some guy turns up at the door… PLAYBOY: "Was that the last time you saw Paul?" LENNON: "Yes, but I didn't mean it like that."

(John Lennon, 1980, interview with David Sheff for Playboy)

PAUL: When Sean (John and Yoko's son) was first born, I visited him a few times at the Dakota (Lennon's apartment house in New York). And then it had gone snotty. I used to turn up without calling him. One time, he got annoyed with me. He said, 'Well, look, man… Why do you just keep turning up here and surprise us? Why don't you just call first?' And I took that the wrong way. After that, I don't think I did see him.

(Paul McCartney, spring of 1982, interview with Jim Miller for Newsweek)

Writing a song is a good way to get your thoughts out and to allow yourself to say things that you might not say to the other person.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present)

That came about when I was just sitting around in the studio one day [May 5, 1977], doing rock ‘n’ roll kind of chords, just very simple bluesy kind of chords. And I just had the chorus. And the rest of it I used to just mumble. So we did it on the boat with me mumbling the vocal track and just shouting ‘I’ve had enough’ when it comes to the chorus. And I wrote some words to it and again we finished that off in London.

(Paul McCartney BBC Radio 1, 1978)

PLAYBOY: In most of his interviews, John said he never missed the Beatles. Did you believe him? PAUL: I don’t know. My theory is that he didn’t. Someone like John would want to end the Beatle period and start the Yoko period. And he wouldn’t like either to interfere with the other. As he was with Yoko, anything about the Beatles tended inevitably to be an intrusion. So I think he was interested enough in his new life to genuinely not miss us.

(Paul McCartney, Dec.1984, interview with Joan Goodman for Playboy, 1984)

Buchan [Alasdair Buchan of the Daily Mirror] pressed McCartney on John Lennon’s recent assertion that he had made his contribution to society and did not plan to work again. “He’s full of wind, isn’t he?” McCartney scoffed. “Maybe he isn’t going to work anymore, but it’s no skin off my nose. It’s really up to John. I’ve heard him talk like that before. . . . I think he must be very bored now.” [November 1977]

(Demos to roll off the Lennon production line during this period included ‘Real Love,’ ‘Now and Then,’ ‘Free as a Bird,’ ‘What Ever Happened To?’ and ‘She Is a Friend of Dorothy’s.’)

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

1978:

Paul and the Eastmans had more business to discuss during that June visit [16-19 June 1978], namely, the still unresolved matter of dividing up the millions of dollars in record royalties that had accumulated in Apple’s coffers since March 1971. Dissolution papers, signed by the four Beatles in December 1974, severed their business ties, but the Beatles recording royalties continued to flow into Apple, with each Beatle receiving 5 percent, while 80 percent went into Apple’s bank account. According to Paul, the main sticking point in reaching a financial settlement was John’s insistence that the others indemnify him against both US and UK tax claims. Until now, the Eastmans had resisted any such agreement, but keen to break the deadlock, Paul sought their blessing to accept Lennon’s terms; after all, what good was a divorce without a settlement?

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

I spoke to the Eastmans. I said, “If we all think he’s not going to have a tax consequence, let’s give [the indemnity] to him.”’Cause, you know, if all sides are that smart, let’s all offer it. Break the deadlock. I went to New York, feeling like the bringer of good news. I rang him up. “Hello, John, how are you? Hello, how’s the kids? Oh, great. What’s all this about publishing? Yeah, great”—laugh laugh laugh—“What about Apple?” Tense. You know, that was the unfortunate thing in the last ten years. The moment you mention the word Apple, all of us go, eeeeep! Dread and horror and shock goes through all our systems. I said, “Look, as I understand it, you need this indemnity.” John said, “Fucking indemnity. Fucking this, fucking that. You don’t need to give me fucking indemnity, you fucking—” I think we ended up just sort of swearing at each other. I said, “Fuck you, ya big cunt,” ’cause I just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t be sweet and reasonable anymore. I was shaking for an hour after that. Of course, the funniest thing was, I then meant to ring John Eastman and say to him, “No, no, it’s not gonna work, this whole thing. I tried to do the indemnity, it’s not gonna work.” Of course, I got the phone numbers wrong.I rang John Lennon back instead. [When the phone was answered, I said,] “Hello, John? Yeah, listen, I just—oh—yeah well…” But it was Yoko this time, and then I said, “Look, I didn’t mean for it to get like that—but, shit, you know, it seems to have got…” The funny thing was, they knew I was trying to ring John Eastman immediately after, so that would have reinforced their little feelings about me double-dealing. I’ve hardly talked to him since.

(Paul McCartney, 1980, in All You Need Is Love by Peter Brown and Steven Gaines, 2024)

Paul’s rage turned to embarrassment. Desperate to set the record straight and not leave New York under a storm cloud, Paul took a taxi ride to the Dakota building. The Lennons’ interior gardener, Mike Meideros, was watering plants when Paul pulled up outside. “It was maybe like five o’clock in the evening,” Meideros recalled, “and the concierge called up. I don’t know the exact conversation because I didn’t hear it, I just heard Yoko saying, ‘No, he can’t come up now.’ And I thought that was pretty cold.”

(Robert Rodriguez, Audio interview with Mike “Tree” Meideros for Something About the Beatles podcast, first broadcast March 10, 2024 - in The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

The next song Paul brought in was a peculiar but musically fascinating medley. The first part, which he had demoed during the summer [June-July 1978], was a lively track built over an energetically bouncing bass line, alternatively called ‘Emotional Moments’ (after the opening lines, “Emotional moments / You left in a rage”) and ‘Cage’ (after the refrain, which immediately follows, “And if you could love me now / I wouldn’t be in a cage”). In the demos, the bass figure, shadowed by a synthesizer, continued in various permutations through the full track, and included a brisk, ear-catching chordal interlude dominated by the synthesizer. Now Paul added a second verse, which more or less explained the “cage” reference: “Provisional license* / I’m under arrest / But if you could get me out / I’d like to take another test.” The chordal interlude was moved to the end of the song, where it precedes a final verse. In the medley, Paul has interposed an entirely different song between the opening and closing verses of ‘Emotional Moments.’ Called ‘He Didn’t Mean It,’ this second song is slower and more melodic. In its lyrics, Paul revives a trick the Beatles had used in ‘She Loves You’…

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

PLAYBOY: "You say you haven't listened to Paul's work and haven't really talked to him since that night in your apartment…" LENNON: "Really talked to him, no, that's the operative word. I haven't really talked to him in ten years. Because I haven't spent time with him. I've been doing other things and so has he. You know, he's got 25 kids and about 20,000,000 records out. How can he spend time talking? He's always working."

(John Lennon, 1980, interview with David Sheff for Playboy)

PLAYBOY: But in the last ten years you’ve never wondered if it might not come as easily, as naturally again as it once did? LENNON: …I thought, maybe that’s it. Maybe music’s over. I mean, I was preparing not to make any music again…

(John Lennon, Sept. 1980, in All We Are Saying by David Sheff)

…If I had known John was going to die I would not have been as stand-offish as I was. You know how people are in relationships. If someone tells you to piss off you say well piss off yourself then. You don’t realise that there may be pain and it’s very hard to say Jesus’s thing. You know – turning the other cheek. “OK, you can tell me to piss off but I still think you’re great”. If I knew John was going to die I would have made a lot more effort to try and get behind his mask and try and get a better relationship with him. As it was I think I did have a pretty good relationship with him but when he started slagging me off I was not prepared to say “well you’re quite right” because I’m human. <…> I just turned round and said piss off. Had I known it was going to be that final – that quick – I would not have said that. <…> That’s my regret really where I now see what I could have said, listen and put my arm round him…

(Paul McCartney, 1983, interview with Neil Tilly for fanzine BREAKOUT! (Issue 15) Aug/Sept 1983)

[tavolgisvist]

1967

But Dylan, when I got in and talked to him I played him some of the Sergeant Pepper album, bit late. He said, Oh, I get it, you don’t want to be cute anymore. That summed it up, that was sort of what it was. The cute period had ended and it was now… Whereas we’d been artists with a cute edge, because that was what the scene was and that was what was required. We’d really always preferred to not have to do the cute thing. It started to be art, that was what happened. <…> I used to go to avant garde music concerts like. That was me, all that Stockhausen shit in The Beatles. I went to this guy Luciano Berio who’s now an electronic classical kind of guy. It was good, it was a good kind of crossover. A lot of stimulation for me. What Pepper came out of was all of that. Very exciting period. I’m not trying to say it was all me, but l do think John’s avant-garde period later, was really to give himself a go at what he’d seen me having a go at. He didn’t dare do it while he was living in suburbia. Couldn’t do it because the vibe was wrong. Had to come to my house and sneak vicarious thrills.

(PM in "The Paul McCartney World Tour" book, September 1989)

Summer of Love's a little bit too sort of easy, but, yeah, some sort of golden summer

(Paul McCartney in The Beatles Anthology, ep.7)

‘When was that summer of a dozen words?’ When everything’s going really well, nobody needs to talk, so you may just be sitting around with someone and reading books, or reading a newspaper, and you hardly even speak because there’s no need to; you’re in such a comfortable situation. ‘When was that summer when it never rained?’ I like that I’m not even going to try and remember what year it was. I remember hearing a story in the 1960s, when everyone was looking towards India and Indian mysticism, of some guy who was visiting a friend, and he came into the room and just sat down in a corner, and they didn’t speak. The idea was they were such good friends that they wouldn’t speak until someone had something to say. It wouldn’t just be, ‘What did you think of the football the other day?’ They were absolutely in each other’s presence, not needing to say anything. When they spoke it had to be meaningful. I liked the image of the peacefulness in that room.

(Paul McCartney about You Tell Me, The Lyrics, 2021)

I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us [John and Yoko], doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and... or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight. 

(John Lennon, interview with Maurice Hindle, December, 1968)

“The Sgt. Pepper time was the happiest period of my life for a long while“, McCartney explained while Denny Laine sang country songs in the derelict Ealing Cinema turned rehearsal hall. “But it happens again now. New Orleans was the most recent high point. I think we made a good record“.

(Paul McCartney, Linda McCartney, Denny Laine, interview with George Melly, May/September 1975)

[tavolgisvist]

…when I was sixteen, Elvis was what was happening. A guy with long hair wiggling his ass and singing “Hound Dog” and “That’s All Right” and all those great early Sun records, which I think are his great period. … When I was a kid I was a fan of Elvis and Little Richard and Chuck Berry. I still have a soft spot for them.

(John Lennon, 1980, All We Are Saying by David Sheff)

Rock was the music that excited all kids. Elvis was the exciting singer singing the exciting songs. 'Nothing really affected me until Elvis,' says John. … 'I was very impressed by Paul playing "Twenty Flight Rock". He could obviously play the guitar. I half thought to myself – he's as good as me. I'd been kingpin up to then. Now, I thought, if I take him on, what will happen? It went through my head that I'd have to keep him in line, if I let him join. But he was good, so he was worth having. He also looked like Elvis. I dug him.'

(John Lennon in The Beatles: The Authorised Biography by Hunter Davies)

for @i-am-the-oyster <3

[tavolgisvist]

And I was [1966/67] into Stockhausen, and I used to make a lot of home tape loops and just send them to friends for, like, a buzz. I remember sayin’ to John once, “I’m gonna do an album of this and call it Paul McCartney Goes Too Far.” And he said, “Yeah, you’ve gotta do it, man!” So I was the one who introduced John, originally, to a lot of that stuff.

(Paul McCartney, interview with Kurt Loder for Rolling Stone, Sept. 1986)

I originally cut it on my farm in Scotland. I went into the studio each day and just started with a drum track. Then I built it up bit by bit without any idea of how the song was going to turn out. After laying down the drum track, I added guitars and bass, building up the backing track. I did a little version with just me as the nutty professor, doing everything and getting into my own world like a laboratory. The absent-minded professor is what I go like when I’m doing those; you get so into yourself it’s weird, crazy. But I liked it. Then I thought, ‘Well, OK, what am I going to do for the voice?’ I was working with a vari-speed machine with which you can speed up your voice, or take it down a little bit. That’s how the voice sound came about. It’s been speeded up slightly and put through an echo machine I was playing around with. I got into all sorts of tricks, and I can’t remember how I did half of them, because I was just throwing them all in and anything that sounded good, I kept. And anything I didn’t like, I just wiped.

(Paul McCartney, interview with Paul Gambaccini for Rolling Stone, Paul McCartney's one man band, 26 June 1980)

I originally cut it on my farm in Scotland; I did a little version with just me as the nutty professor, doing everything and getting into my own world like a laboratory. The absent-minded professor is what I go like when I’m doing those; you get so into yourself it’s weird, crazy. But I liked it. You know, I heard a story recently from a guy who used to record with John [Lennon] in New York, and he said that John would get lazy — but then he’d hear a song of mine where he thought, “Oh, shit, Paul’s putting it in, Paul’s working!” Apparently that was one song that got John recording again. I think John just thought, “Uh-oh, I better get working, too” [beams]. I thought that was a nice story.

(Paul McCartney, interview with Timothy White for Billboard, March 2001)

JOHN: Well, he had a single – it’s on the radio, out here – and I thought that ‘Coming Up’ was great! But I liked the freak version that he made in his barn [more] than that live Glasgow one, you see. I’m – yeah. HILBURN: The one that’s on the album. The one with the speeded up voices? JOHN: Yeah, I think that’s – if I’d been with him, I would have said, “Yes, that’s the one,” too, and I thought that the record company had the nerve changing it round on him. But you know, I know what they mean, they want to hear the real guy singing, but I like the freaky one… <…> HILBURN: Were you impressed by him in any— JOHN: Oh, yeah, I was impressed by that record ['Coming Up'] on the air. It immediately made me: “I want to write!” You know, Warren Beatty said that. About movies. “A great movie is one that makes you want to make a movie.” “I wish I’d made that. Shit.” I’d go right out and make it! HILBURN: Is that a competition with the human being, or a competition with the artist? JOHN: [pause] I don’t know which it is, but it’s that bit, he said it, and it’s right. When I hear a great record, I immediately want to go out and make it. I thought, “I’ll make one like that.”

(John Lennon, interview with Robert Hilburn, LA Times, 10th October 1980)