A Party:
Studio Two, EMI
Abbey Road, London NW8
1 June 1966
The Beatles have already taped a rhythm track for ‘Yellow Submarine’, along with Ringo’s unsteady vocals and his meandering, mock-poetic introduction1 (‘And we will march to free the day to see them gathered there, from Land o’Groats to John o’Green …’). But it is essentially a singalong song, so in the evening they invite a few party-loving friends to join them in Studio Two, among them Pattie Boyd, Mick Jagger, Brian Jones, Marianne Faithfull, and the Beatles’ faithful chauffeur Alf Bicknell.
As they enter, the Beatles’ engineer, Geoff Emerick, realises that they are all what he euphemistically describes as ‘distinctly in a party mood’. From the look of them, he suspects that at their dinner beforehand ‘more than food was being ingested’. Though he himself has never tried pot, he has been around enough musicians to recognise its aroma: ‘We were sometimes aware of the funny smell in the studio after the Beatles and their roadies snuck a joint off in the corner, though I doubt very much if the straitlaced George Martin knew what was going on.’
The studio rapidly transforms into the ultimate Swinging Sixties party, with women in mini-skirts and flowing blouses, and men in purple bell-bottoms and fur jackets. Emerick suspects they are unlikely to stay still – ‘There was no way I was going to try to contain that lot!’ – so he gives them all handheld microphones on long leads.
John says he wants to sound as though he’s singing underwater. He tries gargling and singing at the same time, but ends up choking. So he changes tack, insisting on a tank being brought into the studio so he can stick his head in it.
By now, George Martin is adept at dealing with John’s excesses, and tries to dissuade him. But John is insistent. Emerick suggests a compromise: why not get John to put the microphone underwater? George Martin is worried that the microphone will be wrecked, and warns Emerick that any damage will be paid for by him.
They look for something with which to waterproof the microphone. Mal Evans finds a condom in his bag. Emerick wraps it around the microphone, and then dips the finished product into a milk bottle filled with water. They are about to start recording when the bossy studio manager, Mr Fowler, puts his head around the door to check that nothing is amiss.
Emerick knows that if Mr Fowler spots the microphone in the milk bottle he will be sacked on the spot. But John is quick-witted: the second he sees Mr Fowler, he grabs the apparatus and hides it behind his back.
‘Everything all right, lads?’ asks Mr Fowler.
‘Yes, sir, Mr Studio Manager, sir, absolutely smashing, sir,’ says John, to the sound of suppressed giggling from everyone, including George Martin.
The recording goes ahead, but the underwater sound is unsatisfactory, and is soon abandoned. On with the party!
The Beatles raid an oversized cupboard in the studio, known as the Trap Room, a treasure trove of odds and ends: thunderstorm gadgets, old hosepipes, a football rattle, wartime hand bells, chains, gongs, wind machines, whistles and hooters. The beautiful people grab what they can, and amidst much merriment and clinking of glasses, the sing-song begins. You can hear the yelps and hollers of the partygoers on the record, during the second verse, the most voluble coming from the previously softly-spoken Pattie Boyd.
Soon everyone squeezes into the tiny echo-chamber at the back of the studio. Once again, Emerick detects ‘the faint smell of “incense”’. While the partygoers clank and giggle and rattle and hoot, John puts on a Goon-style voice and says, ‘Full steam ahead, Mr Bo’sun! Full steam ahead!’ The evening ends with Mal Evans marching around the studio, banging on the big bass drum strapped to his chest, and everybody else straggling behind him, whooping and hollering and dancing the conga.
1 Later junked.