12
“I was going humity-humity in my head and the songs were coming out” —
THE BEATLES (THE WHITE ALBUM)
M ost of the songs we have covered so far were written in England, in the homes of the Beatles, or during tours or vacations. Most of the White Album songs were written in the most exotic locale imaginable — Rishikesh, at the foot of the Himalayas, in northern India, from February to March 1968, as the Beatles attended a Transcendental Meditation training camp at the ashram of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Which is one more example of how much George’s Indian leanings had influenced the whole group. A number of other celebrities were attending: actress Mia Farrow, her sister Prudence, Donovan, and Mike Love of the Beach Boys. All would impact the White Album, in different ways.
The White Album songs represent an important development in the Lennon-McCartney songwriting relationship: there is much more complete ownership of songs on this album than on previous albums — in other words, in previous albums often a song was a Paul song or a John song, but the other songwriter helped finish it. Only occasionally a song might be all Paul or all John. However, in The Beatles , most “Lennon-McCartney” songs were either all Lennon or all McCartney. In fact, John later regarded this as not even a Beatle album, but as the first album after the real Beatles breakup. [1] Both John and George Martin agree that The Beatles marked a point of much less collaboration among the Beatles, both in songwriting and recording. There were still a few collaborative songs — such as “Glass Onion” and “Birthday” — but they were in the minority.
On the other hand, the album represents an upsurge in creativity, judging by the quantity of songs alone. While these songs were mostly written in the peace of the Transcendental Meditation sessions in India, they were often recorded in the midst of intra-Beatle conflict. Sometimes all the Beatles were not present during a particular song session, but when they were present bitter arguments often took place. In fact, engineer Geoff Emerick abruptly quit one day, depressed by the expletive-filled, non-stop back and forth. John had found a new partner, Yoko Ono, and he often introduced her into recording sessions, which was another source of tension, and it was often hard to communicate with him due to his use of drugs at the time.
John regarded the White Album as his return to productivity after a couple years of lying “fallow.” The stay at the ashram gave the Beatles time to write without distractions. [2] “I was going humity-humity in my head and the songs were coming out. For creating it was great. It was just pouring out!” [3]
John also felt that the White Album was better than the previous two albums:
Paul was always upset about the White Album. He never liked it because on that one I did my music, he did his, and George did his. And first, he didn’t like George having so many tracks. He wanted it to be more a group thing, which really means more Paul. So he never liked that album, and I always preferred it to all the other albums, including Pepper , because I thought the music was better. The Pepper myth is bigger, but the music on the White Album is far superior, I think. Q: That’s your favorite, of all the Beatle albums? Yeah, because I wrote a lot of good shit on that. I like all the stuff I did on that, and the other stuff as well. I like the whole album. [4]
Whether or not Paul disliked the album, as John contended, he contributed many memorable songs to it, from full-tilt rockers such as “Back in the U.S.S.R” and “Helter Skelter” to the haunting folk ballads “I Will,” “Mother Nature’s Sun” and “Blackbird.”
George Martin felt it was an album in which the individual Beatles “tended to go off in their own directions,” after the death of Brian Epstein on August 27, 1967. And he felt it varied widely in quality, due to quantity of songs supplied. [5] Some songs might have been left off the final recording, but it would not be easy to reach a consensus on which ones should have stayed and which should have been deep-sixed. The album has been recognized as a masterpiece, [6] including many songs by Lennon and McCartney at the top of their form, and also four top-drawer Harrison songs, including two really great songs, “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and “Long Long Long.”
After they came home from India, the Beatles met at George’s home, Kinfauns, in Esher, a suburb of London, in late May 1968, and made rough demos of the new songs (called either the Kinfauns demos or the Esher demos). [7] Some of these demos were released on Anthology 3 . Aside from the White Album songs, a number of songs from later Beatle albums and solo albums were written during this period, such as George’s “Not Guilty,” Paul’s “Junk” and “Teddy Boy,” Lennon’s “Look at Me” and “Jealous Guy” (with different lyrics). In more ways than one, the White Album harked forward to the Beatles’ solo careers.
Cilla Black was starting a TV show in early 1968, produced by Michael Hurll, and she and Hurll approached Paul backstage one night and asked him to write a song for the show. “So I said yes,” said Paul. “I did a little demo of it, with myself double-tracked, up at Cavendish, and that was it. I quite like the song, it’s very cabaret, it suited her voice. It was just a welcoming song for Cilla.” [8]
Cilla, herself, seems to portray Paul as hoping to write the theme song for the TV show: “Paul said he’d like to write a signature theme for my television series Cilla at the beginning of 1968.” [9] Apparently, at first Paul wrote only the tune and first verse. “He wrote enough for the TV show itself,” said Cilla. This was used for the first few weeks of the show, but before too long Cilla and Hurll asked for the complete song, and he gave her more lyrics. [10] Hurll remembered that
Paul came over to the BBC Theatre in Shepherd’s Bush and sat with me and Cilla and worked on a second verse. It started off with the line, ‘You look tired, love’, because Cilla was tired after a lot of rehearsing and most of what he wrote related to what was going on that day. [11]
Paul added a third verse, and Paul and Cilla recorded a demo of the finalized song on November 21, 1967. [12] When the complete song was recorded, Paul “came to all the band calls,” said Black, “just to look after the backing.” [13] The song reached number eight in Britain.
Both Paul and John agreed that this was a Paul song. [14] The Beatles did an informal version of it on September 16, 1968, during the White Album sessions, and this can be heard on Anthology 3 .
One day at Cavendish, Paul sat down at the piano and tried to write “a bluesy boogie-woogie thing.” He began playing an “an ascending boogie-woogie left hand,” “an arpeggio thing,” against a descending right hand. The song reminded him of Fats Domino, so he started singing in that style. [15]
The song may have also been influenced by “Bad Penny Blues,” by the Humphrey Lyttleton band, a jazz recording produced by George Martin in 1956. In a 1968 interview, Ringo said, “Paul plays piano on it [Lady Madonna]. What he’s doing on piano is a sort of ‘Bad Penny Blues.’ We said to George Martin, ‘How did they do it on ‘Bad Penny Blues’?” [16] In 1989, Paul admitted that this influence was possible, as “Bad Penny Blues” had been a favorite record of the early Beatles, but he then downplayed that possibility, instead pointing to Fats Domino as an influence. [17]
The words are Paul’s ode to “all women”: “How do they do it? — bless ’em — it’s that one, you know. Baby at your breast, how do they get the time to feed them? Where do you get the money? How do you do this thing that women do?” he asked, in 1986. [18] Paul apparently first thought of the Virgin Mary, then it became a “working-class woman,” then it became every woman, “the Madonna image but as applied to ordinary working-class women.” [19]
John, in 1971, put this in a list of songs that Paul wrote alone. [20] Ringo also attributed it to Paul. [21] In 1980, John ascribed it to Paul, but said that he “maybe” helped with some of the lyrics. [22] Mal Evans and Neil Aspinall also seemed to reflect some collaboration, stating that Paul had “done most of the words and music for this item.” [23]
On September 29, 1967, George and John appeared on the David Frost show to discuss Transcendental Meditation, and a Sanskrit translator from Cambridge University, Juan Mascaró, was included in a panel of experts. Later Mascaró wrote a letter to George, praising “Within You Without You,” and sent him his book, Lamps of Fire (1958), suggesting that George write a song from the Chinese mystical text, Tao Te Ching , the words on page 66 of the book. George obliged, using those words to create the lyrics for this song. [24] In Legge’s translation, the Tao Te Ching reads:
Without going outside his door,
one understands (all that takes place) under the sky;
without looking out from his window,
one sees the Tao of Heaven.
The farther that one goes out (from himself),
the less he knows.
Therefore the sages got their knowledge without travelling;
gave their (right) names to things without seeing them;
and accomplished their ends without any purpose of doing so.
After telling this story, George said, in 1980, “The song was written especially for Juan Mascaró because he sent me the book and is a sweet old man. It was nice, the words said everything. Amen .” [25]
This was written in India, and Harrison recorded it in May 1968, as one of the Kinfauns demos. [26] George said that in Tantric cosmology, the central continent, Jambudvipa is surround by oceans, the “sour milk sea.” “I used ‘Sour Milk Sea’ as the idea of — if you’re in the shit, don’t go around moaning about it: do something about it.” [27] It was also a song about meditation.
The Beatles had founded Apple in January 1968, and began recruiting recording artists. They signed Jackie Lomax, an old friend they had known in Liverpool, in early 1968, and George Harrison ended up producing this single, and Lomax’s album, Is This What You Want? (released in March 1969), which included “Sour Milk Sea.” [28] Geoff Emerick engineered the “Sour Milk Sea” session, and was impressed with Harrison’s talents as a producer. [29] Ringo played drums, Paul bass, Eric Clapton guitar.
This McCartney song reflects the intertwined stories of Paul, John, John’s first wife, Cynthia, their son Julian, and John’s second wife, Yoko. John had met Yoko on November 9, 1966, and gradually developed a serious relationship with her. John went to India with Cynthia from February to April, 1968, but wrote songs for Yoko when he was there. He and Cynthia separated in about May 1968, John moving out of Kenwood and starting to live with Yoko.
Paul wrote “Hey Jude” after this separation. He had always been good friends with Cynthia, and was very fond of Julian, so he drove out to Kenwood to visit them. “I happened to be driving out to see Cynthia Lennon,” he said in 1973. “I think it was just after John and she had broken up, and I was quite mates with Julian. He’s a nice kid, Julian.” As he drove, he turned off the radio and began “just vaguely singing this song, and it was like ‘Hey Jules.’” [30] “You know, Don’t be too brought down by this divorce, lad. It’ll be all right kind of style. And I’d basically written that on my own.” [31]
He later finished the song at Cavendish, changing the title to “Hey Jude.” [32]
When Paul first played the song for John, he “took it very personally,” as John remembered in 1968. “‘Ah, it’s me,’ I said, ‘It’s me.’ He [Paul] says, ‘No, it’s me.’ I said, ‘Check. We’re going through the same bit.’ So we all are.” [33]
Paul said that John contributed to the lyrics by keeping him from changing the line, “The movement you need is on your shoulder.” When he played the song for John and Yoko, he said in 2007, “I turned round to John and said: ‘I’ll fix that if you want.’ And he said: ‘You won’t, you know, that’s a fucking great line, that’s the best line in it.’” So it stayed. [34]
Paul’s girlfriend at the time, Francie Schwartz, claimed that the song was about Paul and her. “‘Hey Jude’ was ‘our song’, written and rewritten while I lived with Paul. I know it, he knows it, and now, you do,” she said. [35]
The ending melody, repeated at length, was not a song fragment added on but an integral part of the song. Paul said, “The end refrain . . . wasn’t intended to go on that long at the end but I was having such fun ad-libbing over the end when we put down the original track that I went on for a long time. So then we built it with the orchestra.” [36]
Both Paul and John ascribed this to Paul. He said, in 1989, “That was basically my song.” [37] In 1980, John praised its lyrics and said he did not contribute to it. [38] As often in the Beatle songs, we apparently have arrived at great clarity. But then — according to Mal Evans, in 1968, this song was collaborative:
“Hey Jude” is a more recent number [than ‘Revolution,’ written in India], based on one of Paul’s ideas, but worked on with much joint effort from both John and Paul before it reached the recording studios. . . . On Friday, July 26, John and Paul spent most of the day at Paul’s house putting the final touches to their latest composition, “Hey Jude.” [39]
Evans’s statements are impressively contemporaneous. But John and Paul’s statements are more firsthand, so I accept them. I think it is probable that John and Yoko came to Paul’s house and Paul simply performed the song for them, or played a demo, and asked for comments, and Evans assumed they had been collaborating.
This is the second, hard rock recording of this song. “Revolution 1,” on the White Album, is the slower, original recording.
John wrote “Revolution” in India, [40] and hoped to make it a single, to give the Beatles a political voice, and put them on record as opposing the Vietnam War. “When George and Paul and all of them were on holiday, I made ‘Revolution,’ which is on the LP, and ‘Revolution No. 9,’” he said in 1970. [41]
However, Paul and George didn’t think the slow version of this song would work as a single. [42] So John decided to do a faster, hard rock version, which became the B-side of the “Hey Jude” single. This story, Paul and John objecting to “Revolution” as a slow song, is odd, as “Hey Jude,” the A-side, is a slowish rock ballad. One could understand political objections better.
John claimed this song: “Completely me,” he said in 1980. [43] Paul, in 1995, stated, “It was a great song, basically John’s. . . . I don’t think he was sure which way he felt about it at the time, but it was an overtly political song about revolution.” [44] I conclude that this is a full Lennon song.
In this song, a brass band instrumental, Paul returned to his northern heritage. In 2000, he said, “I was also asked to write the theme tune for a London Weekend Television series that Stanley Holloway was going to be in, called Thingumybob. I’ve always loved brass bands, so I wrote and produced a song for the Black Dyke Mills Band.” [45] In northern England, mills and factories would each have a band, and these would compete. The Black Dyke Mills Band had won that year. [46] Bands are “a roots thing for me,” Paul said, “my dad’s type of music.” [47]
They recorded the song up north, in Saltaire, near Bradford. They did “Yellow Submarine” in a big hall, but, Paul said, “For the A side, I wanted a really different sound so we went out and played it on the street. It was lovely, with very dead trumpety sounding cornets.” [48]
See Revolver album, above.
In 1968 Joe Massot asked George Harrison to do the music for his movie Wonderwall , about a man peeping through a wall at a model living next door, and becoming obsessed with her. “I don’t know how to do music for films,” George protested, and Massot replied that he would use whatever music George gave him. George agreed, and decided he would do the score as a “mini-anthology of Indian music” to popularize Indian music. [49]
The album was recorded in London in December 1967, with English performers, and in Bombay, India, in January 1968, with Indian performers. The London songs were performed by Eric Clapton and Ringo Starr, under pseudonyms, and session musicians, the Remo Four, a Liverpool group. The London songs are by George, but the Indian songs are traditional Indian pieces. He did not play on any of them.
Wonderwall premiered at Cannes on May 17, 1968.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in England.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in England.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in England.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in England.
SIDE TWO
Recorded in England.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in England.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in India.
Recorded in England.
Recorded in England.
Recorded in India.
This is experimental music, with no real composed songs. It continues the tape loop style of “Revolution 9.” John said,
Well, after Yoko and I met, I didn’t realize I was in love with her. I was still thinking it was an artistic collaboration, as it were — producer and artist, right? . . . My ex-wife was away . . . and Yoko came to visit me. . . . we went upstairs and made tapes. I had this room full of different tapes where I would write and make strange loops and things like that for the Beatles’ stuff. So we made a tape all night. She was doing her funny voices and I was pushing all different buttons on my tape recorder and getting sound effects. [50]
Paul said, in 1994, in his letter to John, “After that I set up a couple of Brennell recording machines we used to have and you stayed up all night and recorded Two Virgins .” [51]
Paul wrote this in India as a parody of Chuck Berry’s “Back in the U.S.A.” In 1968, he said that the track, “just sort of came. Chuck Berry once did a song called ‘Back In The U.S.A.,’ which is very American, very Chuck Berry. Very sort of, uhh . . . you know, you’re serving in the army — And when I get back home I’m gonna kiss the ground.” [52] He also said that the song was “a kind of Beach Boys parody. . . . I just liked the idea of Georgia girls and talking about places like the Ukraine as if they were California, you know? It was also hands across the water, which I’m still conscious of.” [53]
Adding to these two influences was Jerry Lee Lewis: “I remember trying to sing it in my Jerry Lee Lewis voice, to get my mind set on a particular feeling. We added Beach Boy style harmonies.” [54] So this song is actually a complex combination of early rock influences.
According to Mike Love, he (Love) suggested that Paul talk about girls all over Russia:
I was sitting at the breakfast table and McCartney came down with his acoustic guitar and he was playing “Back in the USSR,” and I told him that what you ought to do is talk about the girls all around Russia, the Ukraine and Georgia. He was plenty creative not to need any lyrical help from me but I gave him the idea for that little section. [55]
So this song that is in part a Beach Boys pastiche was actually influenced by a Beach Boy.
In 1971 John wondered if he helped a bit on this, but doubted it: “Paul. Maybe I helped a bit, but I don’t think so.” [56] And in 1980, he said, “Paul completely.” [57]
John wrote this at Rishikesh when Prudence Farrow, Mia Farrow’s sister, would not come out of her hut for three weeks, and he and George were deputized to try to get her to come out. [58] So John wrote this song, “Dear Prudence, won’t you come out and play.” As Paul remembers, “We walked up to her chalet, a little delegation, and John sang it outside her door with his guitar. And she looked out, she improved after that.” [59]
Prudence herself remembered the incident differently. “At the end of the meditation course in India, just as we were leaving,” she said, “he mentioned that they had written a song about me, but I didn’t hear it until it came out on the album. I was flattered by it.” [60]
Donovan felt that this song was influenced by his folk “finger-style guitar method.” John “wrote ‘Dear Prudence’ soon after learning the new style,” [61] he said.
All the best relevant sources view this as a John song. [62]
As he began this song, John had the idea of writing a “joke tune” which contained “all kinds of answers to the universe.” [63] Then he brought it to a collaboration session with Paul, and they worked on it together. It referred back to enigmatic lines from earlier Beatles songs. Since many people had written to John, asking who the walrus was, John decided he would give the answer: the walrus would be Paul. Which caused John and Paul a “great giggle.” [64] John remembered doing this partly as an act of generosity, because he felt guilty that he was starting a major relationship with Yoko and leaving Paul as a creative partner:
At that time [I was] still in my love cloud with Yoko, I thought, well, you know, I’ll just say something nice to Paul, that it’s all right and ‘You did a good job over these few years holding us together.’ He was trying to organize the group and that; and do the music and be an individual artist and all that. [65]
Lennon claimed this song in 1971 and 1980. [66] But Paul had definite memories of collaborating on it. “John wrote the tune ‘Glass Onion,’ I mean he wrote it mainly, but I helped him on it,” he said before 1979. [67] And in 1995, he asserted: “We still worked together, even on a song like ‘Glass Onion’ where many people think there wouldn’t be any collaboration.” [68]
I regard this as a song started by John, finished with collaboration.
A friend of Paul whom he knew in the clubs, Jimmy Scott, a Nigerian conga player, used to say, “‘Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on.” [69] Paul liked the phrase, and used it as the basis for the lyrics of this song. He developed it in India, achieving the chorus. “And it was very very pleasant; walking along in the dust slightly downhill through a path in the jungle from the meditation camp with my guitar and singing ‘Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da,’ which I was writing, accompanying the process on the way.” [70] Paul Saltzman remembered Paul and John repeating the chorus over and over again as they worked on the song. [71]
Then the verses started to come. Paul remembered singing “Desmond has a barrow in the marketplace” as he walked down a jungle path to see a movie in a nearby village. [72]
Both Paul and John remember this as a Paul song. In 1968, Paul, asked if he’d written the song alone, answered, “I think it was mainly me. Mainly me. (jokingly ) John’s a bit more Nigerian influenced.” (laughter )” [73] Paul later sent Scott a check “because even though I had written the whole song and he didn’t help me, it was his expression. It’s a very me song, inasmuch as it’s a fantasy about a couple of people who don’t really exist.” [74]
In 1971, John attributed the song directly to Paul. [75] But nine years later, he left open the possibility that he had contributed to the lyrics, saying “I might’ve given him couple of lyrics, but it’s his song, his lyric.” [76] In view of John’s lack of certainty, I attribute this entirely to Paul.
John influenced the performance of the song in a major way. Evidently, Paul was playing it slower, and was requiring the Beatles to do the song over and over again in the studio. Finally, John, one day, lost patience, left, then hours later burst into the studio and yelled, ‘I AM FUCKING STONED!!’ ‘I am more stoned than you have ever been. In fact, I am more stoned than you will ever be!’ ‘And this,’ Lennon added with a snarl, ‘is how the fucking song should go.’ He lurched to the piano and played the opening chords for “Ob-la-di” at a breakneck speed. Paul accepted the new tempo and the piano introduction. [77]
Jimmy Scott’s contribution to the song is significant — providing the title and the mantra of the chorus. This is not to deny that the essential magic of the music and lyrics are from McCartney, and Jimmy Scott’s phrase never would have amounted to a song without Paul’s eye for a good phrase and his musical talent. On the other hand, Paul’s talent saw the phrase as charming and profound, in its way. It was “found poetry” — but does a found phrase, if it comes from another human being, amount to collaboration? Jimmy Scott thought it did, and Paul agreed with him enough to send him a check at one point.
Paul was in an experimental mood after doing John’s “Yer Blues,” and he asked, “‘Can I just make something up?’ and was given permission. He made up this song in the studio, having fun with double-tracking, adding layers of harmony to it.
It was very home-made; it wasn’t a big production at all. I just made up this short piece and I multitracked a harmony to that, and a harmony to that, and a harmony to that, and built it up sculpturally with a lot of vibrato on the strings, really pulling the strings madly. Hence “Wild Honey Pie,” which was a reference to the other song I had written called “Honey Pie.” It was a little experimental piece. [78]
This fragment (53 seconds long) nearly didn’t make the cut for the final album, but Pattie Harrison liked it, so it survived. [79]
Turner reports that this came from a “spontaneous singalong in Rishikesh,” [80] which seems to conflict with Paul’s explanation above, where it is something made up in the studio. The recording session records give support to Paul’s story. [81]
This song is based on an actual person at the ashram in India, a fellow “who . . . took a short break to go away and shoot a few poor tigers, and then came back to commune with God,” as John said in 1980. He took the character Jungle Jim, changed the name to Buffalo Bill, then deformed that to Bungalow Bill. “It’s a sort of teen-age social-comment song, it was a bit of a joke. Yoko’s on that one, actually, I believe, singing along,” John said. [82]
In 1995, Paul remembered John singing it at Rishikesh: “This is another of his great songs and it’s one of my favorites to this day because it stands for a lot of what I stand for now. ‘Did you have to shoot that tiger’ is its message.” [83]
George wrote this song at his mother’s house in Warrington, [84] using bibliomancy — the tried and true divinatory method of opening a book and accepting the first phrases you read as a revelation. He said, in 1980, “I picked up a book at random — opened it — saw ‘Gently weeps’ — than laid the book down again and started the song.” [85] It is another example of “found poetry” in Beatle lyrics.
George said that because John and Paul were so prolific, he never felt secure bringing his own songs in and pushing to get them recorded. One night the Beatles were doing takes of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” at the studio and George was disappointed at the lack of commitment and inspiration in these performances.
So the next day he brought in Eric Clapton to overdub the lead guitar part. Eric was nervous, thinking the Beatles might object, George remembered. “And I was saying, “Fuck ’em, that’s my song.” [86] Clapton’s introduction into the studio caused everyone to “act better.” Paul went to the piano and played an intro that George liked. Everyone took the song more seriously because of Clapton’s presence. [87] So the stars aligned to produce a great performance of a great song.
For this cut, John simply combined three separately-composed songs. It was a natural solution to his problem of not finishing songs! “Oh yeah, I like that, one of my best,” he said in 1970. “I just like all the different things that are happening in it. That was like ‘God.’ I put together three sections of different songs. But it was meant to be like — . . . it seemed to run through all the different kinds of rock music.” [88]
In Anthology , John summarized each verse with a handwritten word: first verse, “Dirty old man.” Second, “the junkie.” Third, “the gunman.” [89] Musically, the three sections are each defined by a different style of rock.
The first and third sections were based on found poetry. In fact, the first part came from random phrases shouted out by John’s friends Derek Taylor, Neil Aspinall and Pete Shotton while everyone was relaxing in a rented house. John had told them that he needed to finish a song, then said, “Neil, take some notes, we’ll get some stuff down. Think of phrases.” [90] The first line came when John wanted to know how you described a girl who was really smart, and Derek remembered his father’s phrase: “She’s not a girl who misses much.” After that the song continued in entirely surreal fashion, though each phrase has an explanation. According to Taylor, he supplied many of the lines. [91]
The second song was about Yoko (“Mother Superior”) and heroin. John publicly denied that it was about the drug, [92] but his handwritten summary of this section, and the song’s first line, “I need a fix cause I’m going down,” are hard to ignore.
The third song came from the cover of an American gun magazine, which had the picture of a smoking gun that had just been shot. In an undated interview, John said, “I thought, ‘Wow! Incredible,’ you know, the fact that happiness was a warm gun that had just shot something or somebody and that’s why I wrote that song.” [93]
Both Paul and John ascribed this song to John. In 1971, John said, “They were advertising guns and I thought it was so crazy that I made a song out of it.” [94] And in 1980, he affirmed, “Me completely.” [95] Paul, in 1968, said, “And it was so sick, you know, the idea of ‘Come and buy your killing weapons,’ and ‘Come and get it.’ But it’s just such a great line, ‘Happiness Is A Warm Gun’ that John sort of took that and used that as a chorus. And the rest of the words . . . I think they’re great words, you know. It’s a poem.” [96] And in 1995, Paul explained,
It’s very similar to “Bungalow Bill” in that it’s a piss-take of all the people who really do think happiness is a warm gun. There’s a great vocal on it, good lyrics, and it’s a very interesting song because it changes tempo a lot, it’s quite a complex piece. It’s very Lennon. . . . I was thinking the other day how poignant it was that John, who was shot in such tragic circumstances, should have written this song. [97]
While it seems clear that Paul was not involved in writing it, Derek Taylor apparently contributed substantially to it.
SIDE TWO
This song started as a piano exercise, an instrumental, in which Paul made the conscious effort to come up with something slightly above his “level of competence” as piano player. [98] When he tried to find some words that fit the music, “Martha my dear, though I spend my days in conversation” suddenly came into his head. Martha was Paul’s sheepdog, so, he said, “It’s me singing to my dog.” (laughs ) [99] It turned into a “fantasy song,” with fictional characters. The song was written in a way that was typical for Paul: he had a tune, and an accompaniment, then some words “came into [his] head.”
Both Paul and John attributed it to Paul. [100]
“Martha My Dear” was recorded by Paul, without any of the other Beatles, on October 4, 1968. According to Alistair Taylor, it was written during the Magical Mystery Tour period. [101]
John wrote this, one of his autobiographical songs, [102] one night during a bout of insomnia after meditating all day with the Maharishi. And in an undated interview, he remembered, “The funny thing about the Maharishi camp was that, although it was very beautiful and I was meditating about eight hours a day, I was writing the most miserable songs on earth, like ‘I’m So Tired’ and ‘Yer Blues.’” [103]
Both John and Paul ascribed it to John. In 1970 and 1980, John said he’d written it in India. [104] Jenny Boyd, Patti Harrison’s sister, remembered John being unable to sleep, in India, and singing “those sad songs he wrote during those evenings, like ‘I’m So Tired.’” [105]
Paul said, in 1995,
“So Tired” is very much John’s comment to the world, and it has that very special line, “And curse Sir Walter Raleigh, he was such a stupid git.” That’s a classic line and it’s so John that there’s no doubt that he wrote it. I think it’s 100 per cent John. Being tired was one of his themes. [106]
Strangely enough, this song started out as a piece by Bach. “The original inspiration was from a well-known piece by Bach,” Paul said in 1995, “which I never know the title of, which George and I had learned to play at an early age.” [107] Paul played it at his “Chaos and Creation at Abbey Road” concert, and it is the Bourrée in E minor, from Lute suite no. 1 BWV 996 (though, as Paul notes, he didn’t play it correctly). [108] While at his farmhouse in Scotland, in spring 1968, [109] not long after returning from India, Paul began thinking of the Bach tune: “Bach was always one of our favourite composers . . . I developed the melody on guitar based on the Bach piece and took it somewhere else, took it to another level.” [110]
Having composed the music, he then added the lyrics. Just as John’s “Revolution” had been a response to recent anti-war protests, this was a response to the civil rights movement in the United States.
I had in my mind a black woman, rather than a bird. Those were the days of the civil-rights movement, which all of us cared passionately about, so this was really a song from me to a black woman, experiencing these problems in the states: “Let me encourage you to keep trying, to keep your faith, there is hope.” As is often the case with my things, a veiling took place so, rather than say “Black woman living in Little Rock” and be very specific, she became a bird, became symbolic, so you could apply it to your particular problem. This is one of my themes: take a sad song and make it better, let this song help you. [111]
Paul claimed this song, [112] and John generally agreed. [113] However, in 1980, he said that he contributed a line to it. [114] I lean toward his earlier testimony.
George Harrison wrote this, for the most part, and put most of the lyrics in a notebook. Years later, he resurrected it, and brought the unfinished song to John, who contributed “a couple of lines about forks and knives and eating bacon.” [115] But there was still one gap, one line missing from the song’s middle eight. So he turned to, of all people, his mother, Louise French Harrison, who provided the perfect line, “What they need’s a damn good whacking!” [116]
This song was written when Paul, John and Donovan were “sitting on a roof” at the Maharishi’s ashram, playing together. “I started playing the chords of ‘Rocky Raccoon,’ you know, just messing around,” Paul said in 1968. “We just started making up the words, you know, the three of us — and started just to write them down.” The title was originally Rocky Sassoon, but Paul changed it to Raccoon “because it sounded more like a cowboy.” Paul disavowed any actual knowledge of “the Appalachian mountains or cowboys and Indians or anything. But I just made it up, you know.” [117]
Though John and Donovan helped, Paul stated, in 1995: “‘Rocky Raccoon’ is quirky, very me. I like talking-blues so I started off like that, then I did my tongue-in-cheek parody of a western and threw in some amusing lines . . . it’s me writing a play.” [118]
In 2008, Paul described it as a “pastiche” of the “George Formby sensibility” mixed with a spoof of folk music. (George Formby was a British singer and actor known for his comic songs.) “Rocky Raccoon was a freewheeling thing, the fun of mixing a folky ramble with Albert In The Lion’s Den with its ‘orse’s ‘ead ‘andle,’ ha ha.’” [119] (Comedian Stanley Holloway was well known for his rendition of the comic poem “The Lion and Albert,” by Marriott Edgar.)
John, in 1971, couldn’t remember this song very well: “Paul — I might have helped with some of the words. I’m not sure.” [120] By 1980, he ascribed it completely to Paul. [121]
Ringo, in 2000, remembered writing this at his home, on the piano. He was banging away at the piano, playing the three chords he knew, and the melody came, and some words. [122] According to some reports, Starr was working on this as far back as 1963, even before he joined the Beatles. [123] When he played it for the other Beatles, they reportedly went into hysterics, “and said it was a rewrite of a Jerry Lee Lewis B-side.” [124]
However, just to show that song authorship with the Beatles is never straightforward, in June 1964, when John said the song was not finished, both Ringo and Paul asserted that it was finished, and Ringo said, “We finished it.” (Not “I finished it.”)
George: But, as far as Ringo and I are concerned, we’ll leave the songwriting to . . . Ringo: Excuse me! Paul’s gonna sing the one I’ve written! Paul: No, I can’t re — I can’t quite remember it. Ringo: Well, I’ll get — just for a plug, Paul. Paul: But even so, we just — Ringo has written one called “Don’t pass me by, don’t make me cry, don’t make me blue.” A beautiful melody. Sincere, folks. . . . No, but you really — this is Ringo’s first venture into songwriting. . . . John: Unluckily, there’s never quite enough time to fit Ringo’s songs on. Because he never finishes it! Ringo: It’s finished! Paul: It’s finished. Ringo: We finished it. John: After 18 years . . . [125]
Clearly, Paul knew something about the song being finished that John didn’t. But he explicitly says that Ringo wrote it.
In a July 1964 Top Gear interview with the Beatles, Ringo when asked how his songwriting was going, and said, “Oh, yes, I’ve written a good one and nobody seems to want to record it.” And once again, Paul sang the beginning of it. [126]
It’s odd that Paul sang it (twice), and not Ringo. Possibly the drummer had brought it to Paul for help with arranging it.
When an interviewer brought up the Top Gear interview in 1992, Ringo said, “They [the Beatles] didn’t help me at all writing it.”
Q: You’re listed as the author of “Don’t Pass Me By.” I am the author of “Don’t Pass Me By.” Q: But there’s a tape of a BBC interview [Top Gear, July 14, 1964] where you and Paul noted that the two of you were working on your song “Don’t Pass Me By.” [127] You sure that wasn’t George. Q: No, I’m pretty sure it was Paul. Ok. Well, I don’t remember Paul working on it. Paul would have said that as the band was working on it; he wasn’t working on it as the writer. [128]
John said, in a 1968 interview, that the Beatles had just recorded “Ringo’s first song that we’re working on this very moment. Q: He composed it himself? He composed it himself in a fit of lethargy. Q: And what do you think about it? I think it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard since Nilsson’s ‘River Deep Mountain Dew.’” [129]
In a 1964 interview, Ringo said that “his songwriting technique is to hum a tune to himself and let the others work out the chords on guitar.” [130]
I accept that this is a pure Ringo song.
In Rishikesh, Paul was on the ashram roof, meditating, one day, when he saw two monkeys copulating briefly. This led him to pose the question in this song, asking whether civilized rules are necessary. “And I thought, bloody hell, that puts it all into a cocked hat, that’s how simple the act of procreation is, the bloody monkey just hopping on and hopping off. . . . And it’s that simple. We have horrendous problems with it.” [131]
Both Paul and John ascribed this to Paul. In 1968, after mentioning “I Will” and this song, Paul said, “Just completely different things — completely different feelings and . . . But it’s me singing both of them. It’s the same fella. Uhh, and I’ve wrote both of them, you know.” [132]
But paradoxically, Paul described it as written in the Lennon style. “It was a very John sort of song anyway. That’s why he liked it, I suppose. It was very John, the idea of it, not me. I wrote it as a ricochet off John.” [133] John would sometimes sing it, and was offended when Paul recorded it without him (an example of how the Beatles were drifting apart during this album). [134] He later said, “Paul — one of his best.” [135]
As Paul tells the story, he had had the melody to this for a long time. “It’s still one of my favorite melodies that I’ve written. You just occasionally get lucky with a melody and it becomes rather complete,” he said in 1995. [136] He played it with Donovan and “maybe” a few others at Rishikesh, and he and Donovan began to think of lyrics for the song, but they weren’t quite satisfactory, for Paul. Finally, he wrote a new set of lyrics. [137]
Paul and John agreed, repeatedly, that this was written by Paul, and that John did not contribute to it. As we have seen, Paul said in 1968 that he wrote both this and “Why Don’t We Do It.” [138] John, in 1971, put it on a list of songs Paul wrote alone. [139]
Thus we have clarity, it seems. But, as often, a new piece of evidence pops up to break the symmetry. During the Get Back sessions, one day, when John was absent, the other three Beatles were talking about the problem of dealing with Yoko. Paul defended her somewhat, and went “out of his way to explain how she didn’t interfere when he and John were struggling with the lyrics for ‘I Will’ the previous year.” [140]
A reference such as this is a bit unnerving, as it makes one doubt the memories of both Beatles in their later interviews.
John wrote this to his mother, Julia Stanley Lennon, after “opening up” about his feelings relating to her during Transcendental Meditation sessions. He also had Yoko in mind as he wrote it. [141]
While Paul did not contribute to “Julia,” three other people did. First, John said in 1971 that Yoko “helped me with this one,” so she both partially inspired the song and helped write it. [142] In the same year, John said, “ She had written other things, even ‘Julia’ back in the Beatles days.” [143]
Then, Donovan said that he helped John with the words “a bit,” after John asked him for help. [144] He also taught John the “finger-picking” method that is used on the song. [145]
Finally, some of the lyrics, including the opening lines, are from Kahlil Gibran’s book of poetry, Sand and Foam (1926). [146]
Both John and Paul ascribed this gentle, lyrical song to John. “That was mine,” said John in 1980. [147] And Paul, in 1995, said, “That was John’s song about his mum, folk finger-picking style, and a very good song.” [148]
SIDE THREE:
On the night of September 18, 1968, the Beatles wanted to see the movie The Girl Can’t Help It on TV — it had a number of their early rock heroes performing, such as Little Richard, Gene Vincent and Fats Domino. In addition, a number of the Beatles’ friends were present at the studio and the atmosphere was like a party. So instead of working on a detailed song or overdubs, Paul suggested that they just make up a song in the studio — a “useful song,” like a birthday song. This would fit with the party atmosphere of the recording session. [149]
They recorded a very simple harmonic backing, and went to Paul’s house to watch the movie. “Then we went back to the studio again and made up some words to go with it all,” Paul said in an early interview. “So this song was just made up in an evening. Umm, you know. We hadn’t ever thought of it before then. And it’s one of my favorites because of that.” [150] Elsewhere, he remembered: “So we came up with this really simple lyric, put a riff in the middle, a little instrumental break and we got the crowd of guests there to sing along to the chorus.” [151]
Paul described this song as a joint composition, improvised in the studio: “that is 50-50 John and me, made up on the spot,” he said in 1995. [152] John, in 1971, seemed to agree: “Both of us. We wrote it in the studio.” [153] However, both Paul and John remembered that writing the song was Paul’s idea. “I think Paul wanted to write a song like ‘Happy, Birthday Baby,’ the old Fifties hit,” John said. [154] So I accept that the song was Paul’s idea, developed in collaboration.
However, if we turn to early insiders, such as Chris Thomas (the acting producer) and Mal Evans, Paul’s contribution was more pronounced than 50-50. (And while insiders were generally not first-hand witnesses for a song’s composition, for this song, they were, because the song was created in the studio.) According to Thomas, Paul came in early because the Beatles were scheduling the session on both sides of the movie:
Paul was the first one in, and he was playing the “Birthday” riff. Eventually the others arrived, by which time Paul had literally written the song, right there in the studio. We had the backing track down by about 8:30, popped around to watch the film as arranged and then came back and actually finished the whole song. It was all done in a day. [155]
Evans, in a nearly contemporaneous article, remembered the song as a collaboration of all four Beatles, but dominated by Paul. “This was written in the recording studio with all four fellows working on it as a joint effort even if Paul seemed to contribute the most ideas.” [156]
I conclude that this song was collaborative, but a collaboration dominated by Paul.
Like “I’m So Tired,” this was written in India, and reflects John’s feelings during the Transcendental Meditation camp, the duality between peaceful, happy meditation during the day and insomnia and misery at night. In this song, he bordered on suicidal: “I was right in Maharishi’s camp writing ‘I want to die.’” [157] John put this in the tradition of autobiographical or self-revealing songs that culminated in Plastic Ono Band . [158]
According to John, this song was inspired by a lecture on nature by the Maharishi, as was John’s “Jealous Guy,” originally titled “I’m Just a Child of Nature.” [159] Miles, perhaps reflecting Paul, perhaps reflecting this interview by John, agreed. [160]
Though the Maharishi lecture might have given Paul the original idea for the song, he remembered writing it at his dad’s house in Liverpool, and that he had a song sung by Nat King Cole, “Nature Boy,” in mind when he wrote it. [161] “‘Mother Nature’s Son’ was inspired by that song. I’d always loved nature, and when Linda and I got together we discovered we had this deep love of nature in common.” [162]
John ascribed this song fully to Paul. [163] Paul generally claimed it, [164] but in 1995, he said, “There has been a little help from John with some of the verses.” [165] Mal Evans, in 1969, referred to it as collaborative. “John and Paul wrote this while they were in India.” [166] Evans was in India with the group, but was possibly simply speaking generally — he doesn’t even reflect that Paul was dominant.
Though this is definitely a McCartney song, John evidently contributed to the lyrics in a minor way.
John said that this song expressed the love and closeness that he and Yoko shared in the early days of their relationship: “It was about me and Yoko. Everybody seemed to be paranoid except for us two, who were in the glow of love. Everything is clear and open when you’re in love.” [167]
According to George, the opening phrase, “Come on is such a joy,” came from the Maharishi. [168] This, and the fact that the song was performed as one of the Esher demos in May 1968, suggest that it was written in India.
Paul observed that “monkey” was a jazz-musician idiom for heroin, [169] so this might reflect hard drug use, but this is not certain.
John and Paul both ascribed “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide” to John. In 1971, John said, “Me,” and in 1980, he remembered, “That was just a sort of a nice line that I made into a song.” [170] Paul felt that this song “very much reflected the early days of John and Yoko’s life together at Montagu Square.” [171] This chronology is not quite correct, as John and Yoko moved into 34 Montagu Square in late July, long after the song was written, but Paul’s main point is valid.
The incident behind this song is still shrouded in controversy. After Paul left India in late March 1868, with John and George continuing to stay in Rishikesh, John’s friend, the unstable “Magic” Alex Mardas, accused the Maharishi of making a pass at one of the women there (Mia Farrow, according to John).
John fully accepted the story, and was outraged. John and George confronted the religious leader and told him they were leaving. [172] Just before they left India, when their bags were packed, John wrote “Sexy Sadie” about the meditation guru, but at the time with lyrics explicitly about Maharishi: “Maharishi, what have you done, you’ve made a fool of everyone.” [173]
Back in London, John told Paul the story and sang the song. Paul later came to believe that the story about Maharishi was untrue, that Alex Mardas had fabricated it to lessen the Maharishi’s influence on the Beatles. [174] George also denied that anything had happened: “Now, historically, there’s the story that something went on that shouldn’t have done — but nothing did.” [175] Eventually, George persuaded John to take out any explicit reference to the Maharishi, and suggested the title “Sexy Sadie” instead. [176]
Both Paul and John ascribed this to John, [177] but the title came from George.
According to interviews with Paul in the eighties and nineties, the idea for this song came when he read an interview with Peter Townshend of the Who, in which Townshend said the Who’s next single, “I Can See for Mile and Miles,” was “the loudest, most raucous rock ‘n’ roll, the dirtiest thing they’d ever done.” That made Paul think: ‘Right. Got to do it.’ And I totally got off on that one little sentence in the paper, and I said, “We’ve got to do the loudest, most raucous . . .” [178] “So I sat down and wrote ‘Helter Skelter’ to be the most raucous vocal, the loudest drums, et cetera et cetera.” [179]
In a much earlier interview, in 1968, Paul seems to describe a different sequence of events. He read a review of an unidentified record in which the reviewer said that “this group really goes wild, there’s echo on everything, they’re screaming their heads off.” Paul was annoyed that the group had beat the Beatles to it. Then he heard the actual record and was disappointed. “It was quite straight, and it was very sort of sophisticated.” “So I thought, ‘Oh well, we’ll do one like that, then.’” But instead of sitting down and writing the song, Paul thought of a song he already had that would lend itself to such a performance. “And I had this song called ‘Helter Skelter’ which is just a ridiculous song. So we did it like that, ‘cause I like noise.” [180]
The helter skelter is a ride in which a slide spirals down around a tower. [181] Paul used the symbol of a slide to represent the rise and fall of empires — “and this was the fall, the demise, the going down.” [182]
Whatever the details of the songwriting, both Paul and John ascribed “Helter Skelter” to Paul. Paul, in 2000, said, “So I said to the guys, ‘I think we should do a song like that; something really wild.’ And I wrote ‘Helter Skelter.’” [183] In 1971 John put it on a list of songs written by Paul alone, and nine years later, said, “That’s Paul completely .” [184]
The recording session for this song has become legendary. “‘Helter Skelter’ was a track we did in total madness and hysterics in the studio,” said Ringo. He also stated that Paul virtually wrote the song in the studio, though Paul’s interviews suggest he’d worked on the song before the recording. [185]
This great song by George was allegorical, addressed to God. He used the chords from Dylan’s “Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” to write the music. [186]
The eerie percussive coda at the end was a wine bottle that would rattle when Paul, who performed Hammond organ on the song, played a certain note. Ringo added a snare drum roll. [187]
SIDE FOUR:
See “Hey Jude / Revolution” single, above. This is the original, slower, doo-wop version.
Paul said that both he and John loved the music hall tradition. Paul listened to the Billy Cotton Band Show as he grew up, and Fred Astaire was a favorite. [188] “My dad’s always played fruity old songs like that, you know. And I liked ‘em. I like the melody of old songs, and the lyrics actually as well.” [189] So for this song, he pretended he was living in 1925, [190] and wrote a “fantasy song” in that style, about a woman in Hollywood named Honey Pie. He emphasized that it was not a parody, but “a nod to the vaudeville tradition that I was raised on.” [191]
Both Paul and John ascribed this to Paul. [192]
While Paul would make these obvious nods to this music from a different generation, the impact of this kind of carefully crafted melodic writing on his rock music has not been sufficiently recognized or understood.
George wrote this to tease Eric Clapton, who had a weakness for candy. When he saw a box of candy, he “had to eat them all,” said George. As a result Clapton was undergoing major dental work at the time. [193] The lyrics are partially found poetry, as George took a number of candy names from a box of chocolates. He remembered that Clapton “was over at my house, and I had a box of ‘Good News’ chocolates on the table and wrote the song from the names inside the lid.” [194]
Derek Taylor helped with the lyrics. “I got stuck with the two bridges for a while,” said George, “and Derek Taylor wrote some of the words in the middle — ‘You know that what you eat you are.’” [195]
John got the idea for this song from an advertisement back in Sgt. Pepper days. In 1967 he told Hunter Davies, “I’ve got another one here, a few words, I think I got them from an advert: ‘Cry baby cry, make your mother buy.’ I’ve been playing it over on the piano. I’ve let it go now. It’ll come back if I really want it.” [196]
The lyrics are also partly based on the nursery rhyme, “Sing A Song Of Sixpence”:
The king was in his counting house counting out his money,
The queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey
The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes,
When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose!
John worked on this song in India. [197] There is a home tape of it, Lennon on guitar and piano, which Winn dates to December 1967 or January 1968. [198] It was also one of the Esher demos, in May 1968.
Generally, both John and Paul ascribed this to John. Miles/Paul gave it as an example of a song that Paul first heard in the studio, because John was spending so much time with Yoko. [199] Mal Evans agreed, in 1968: “This is John’s number all the way with strong, heavy and very Lennon vocals.” [200]
However, just to prevent an easy solution to a Lennon-McCartney song, John, in 1980, denied writing it: “Not me. A piece of rubbish.” [201] He must have simply been confused, as the evidence for his authorship is conclusive.
This is an ad-lib by Paul, recorded during the “I Will” sessions, Take 19. It was originally two minutes and 21 seconds in length, and a 28-second segment was cut out of this for the White Album. [202] Not listed on the record, it serves as an intro to Revolution 9, or the outro to “Cry Baby Cry.” A haunting bit of McCartney between two classic John cuts.
I know of no comments on the song by Paul, John or any insider.
As has been mentioned (see the “Hey Jude / Revolution” single, above), this experimental montage of sounds developed from an extended jam after “Revolution 1.” John said, in 1980, that the slow version of the song continued on and on, and he added sounds to the extended fade out. [203]
John was the main creator of this piece. Geoff Emerick remembered, “On this night John sat with me behind the console, like a kid with a new toy. He was the composer and he knew what he wanted, so he manned the faders instead of me.” [204]
Tape loops were an important component of the composition. John said, in 1970: “All the thing was made with loops. I had about thirty loops going, I fed them onto one basic track. . . . It was an engineer’s tape, and I was just using all the bits like to make a montage.” [205] George Martin described the cut as “an extension of ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’” in its use of tape loops. [206]
Another influence was “classical” experimental music. John described this cut in 1971 as “just abstract, musique concrete, kind of loops and that, people screaming. I thought I was painting in sound a picture of revolution.” [207] The phrase “musique concrète” points to the electronic music of Karlheinz Stockhausen and Edgard Varèse.
Yoko’s impact on this cut was considerable, as she was present for the recording and even chose particular loops. [208] So Yoko contributed directly to the piece, and also inspired it. John and Yoko alone did the final editing, which took four hours. [209]
George Harrison, George Martin and Ringo also helped John on this piece. (Paul was in New York when it was recorded.) Once John wrote to Melody Maker to assert he was the main creator of “Revolution 9,” not George Martin; however, he said that he recorded it “with Yoko plus the help of Ringo, George and Martin.” [210]
George Harrison remembered that he and Ringo went into the EMI tape library and pulled tapes for John to use in his collage, and John would “cut them together.”
The whole thing, ‘Number nine, number nine,’ is because I pulled the box number nine. It was some kind of educational program. John sat there and decided which bits to cross-fade together, but, if Ringo and I hadn’t gone there in the first place, he wouldn’t have had anything. [211]
Lennon’s friend Pete Shotton claimed that he helped substantially with this cut. “‘Revolution 9,’ of course, was the impressionistic sound-effects montage that John and I had conceived during our LSD trip hours before he revealed himself to me as Jesus Christ. John subsequently completed it with a little help from Yoko . . . ‘This is the music of the future,’ John would tell everybody who’d listen. ‘You can forget all the rest of the shit we’ve done — this is it! ” [212] Shotton said that he and John started Revolution 9 at John’s home, using “John’s network of Brunell tape recorders.” [213] Shotton was not there when Lennon was working on the piece in the studio, however. George Harrison was an important presence. [214] Perhaps Shotton helped with some of the tape loops before John brought them to the studio.
According to Miles/McCartney, the other three Beatles and George Martin all tried to convince John to leave this off the White Album. [215] In 1969, John said “Working on my own with Yoko, I can go as far out as I like. Take Revolution No. 9. I thought I imposed that on the Beatles.” [216] This was one time when John’s instincts were right; one can’t imagine the White Album without this extended avant-garde moment near the end.
John wrote “Good Night” as a lullaby for his son Julian, [217] and it is a classic example of John writing against type, with its lush orchestral accompaniment. It offers a striking contrast to “Revolution 9,” and serves as a moving ending for the White Album.
John either wrote it for Ringo to sing, or decided to give it to him, so he recorded a demo for the drummer. [218]
George Martin did the orchestral arrangement. John remembered, in 1969, “So I just said to George Martin ‘Arrange it just like Hollywood.’ Yeah, corny.” [219] Martin thus is probably responsible for counter-melodies in the orchestra.
John, Ringo and Paul ascribed this to John. [220] In 1969, he said, “When I wrote it, it was just like a child’s lullaby. I just picked it out on guitar.” [221] In 1968, Paul said, “It’s his tune, uhh, which is surprising for John — ’cause he doesn’t normally write this kind of tune.” [222] Twenty years later, Paul said that John had a well-earned reputation as a rocker. “But he wrote songs like ‘Good Night,’ for Ringo, which is the most sentimental ballad you’ll ever hear.” [223] “It was John who wrote it for me,” Ringo said in an early interview. [224]
But as nearly always in the Beatle songs, after this clarity, ambiguity intrudes. In the same 1968 interview cited above, Paul said, “John wrote it, mainly.” There is a slight opening for collaboration. Mal Evans, probably not a firsthand witness, though an insider, twice in 1968 stated that John and Paul wrote it. “Ringo has recorded two titles — the one he wrote himself and another which John and Paul did for him.” [225] And again, he said, “John and Paul wrote this sad, wistful song for Ringo to sing.” [226] Evans may have been simply giving the “Lennon-McCartney” party line, or he may have witnessed collaboration sessions that were later forgotten by the principals. I lean toward the former theory, and accept this as a song by John alone.
Paul cites this as evidence for John’s love of old standards. “One of his favourite songs was ‘Girl of My Dreams’. And he loved ‘Little White Lies’. . . . That side of John he’d never dare show, except in very rare moments.” [227]
[1] Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 24.
[2] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 197, 199-200. Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 24.
[3] As cited in Goldman, The Lives of John Lennon , 350, paperback edition.
[4] McCabe and Schonfeld, interview with John Lennon, Sept. 5, 1971.
[5] George Martin, Interview.
[6] See chapter 16, below, on polls, for the White Album’s reputation and standing.
[7] Winn, That Magic Feeling , 169.
[8] Miles, Many Years From Now , 181.
[9] Cilla Black before 1970 (Aldridge, Beatles Illustrated Lyrics , 154). Du Noyer, Conversations , 188-89.
[10] Cilla Black before 1970 (Aldridge, Beatles Illustrated Lyrics , 154).
[11] Turner, A Hard Day’s Write , 215.
[12] Winn, That Magic Feeling , 136.
[13] Cilla Black before 1970 (Aldridge, Beatles Illustrated Lyrics , 154).
[14] John: “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror ; Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 208.
[15] Miles, Many Years from Now , 449.
[16] Walsh, “Will the real Richard Starkey please stand up?”
[17] Read, “McCartney on McCartney,” episode 4.
[18] Salewicz, “Tug of War,” 67.
[19] Miles, Many Years from Now , 449. According to singer Richie Havens, Paul once told him that he wrote the song from a picture of an African lady with a baby, called “Mountain Madonna.” Somach et al., Ticket to Ride , 260-61.
[20] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[21] Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 344.
[22] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 211.
[23] Evans and Aspinall, “New Single Sessions,” 11.
[24] See Harrison, I Me Mine , 118; Harrison in Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 345; Everett II, 152; Dowlding, Beatlesongs , 202. Mascaro, Lamps of Fire: the Spirit of Religions (1958). Tao Te Ching , verse 48 (sometimes 47). For Paul’s comments on the song, Aldridge, Illustrated Lyrics , 108; Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 345.
[25] I Me Mine , 118.
[26] Unterberger, The Unreleased Beatles , 349. Harrison, I Me Mine , 142.
[27] Harrison, I Me Mine , 142.
[28] For Lomax, see Engelhart, Beatles Undercover , 248-50.
[29] Here, There and Everywhere , 242. Everett II, 199.
[30] Gambaccini, “The Rolling Stone Interview,” also Gambaccini, Paul McCartney In His Own Words , 24. Paul’s earliest comment on the songwriting is similar: “It was going to be ‘Hey Jules,’ but it changed. I was driving down to Weybridge one day to see Cynthia and Julian and I just started singing ‘Hey Jules, don’t make it bad’ and then I changed it to ‘Hey Jude.’” Aldridge, The Beatles Illustrated Lyrics , 49. See also Cynthia Powell Lennon, who remembered, “During the divorce proceedings, I was truly surprised when, one afternoon, Paul arrived on his own. I was touched by his obvious concern for our welfare. . . . On the journey down he composed ‘Hey Jude’ in the car. He said it was for Julian. I will never forget Paul’s gesture of care and concern in coming to see us.” The Beatles for the Record , 64.
[31] Read, “McCartney on McCartney,” episode 4 (1989). See also, Anthology , 297.
[32] Miles, Many Years From Now , 465.
[33] Cott, “The Rolling Stone Interview” (1968). Also Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror : Transcript by Sauter, “One John Lennon”; see also Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 196.
[34] Doherty, “Pete Doherty meets Paul McCartney.” See also Gambaccini, “The Rolling Stone Interview,” and Gambaccini, Paul McCartney In His Own Words , 23. Miles, Many Years From Now , 465. Anthology , 297.
[35] Fontenot, “Francie Schwartz: The About.com Interview,” (1999), p. 4. She said she heard Paul “rewriting Jude on the piano for several WEEKS.” John also thought the song was about Paul and Francie, Lost Lennon Tapes, Sept. 16, 1991, cf. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 196. Paul and Jane Asher had broken up in summer 1968.
[36] Miles, Many Years From Now , 466.
[37] Read, “McCartney on McCartney,” episode 4.
[38] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews , 151. See also Lost Lennon Tapes, Sept. 16, 1991, cf. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews , 196, in which he described the song as one of Paul’s “masterpieces.” Asked if he contributed to it, he replied, “I don’t think I had anything to do with it.” Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror : “Paul. That’s his best song.” See also George Harrison in Anthology , 297, and George Martin in Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 381.
[39] Evans, “The Eighteenth Single,” 6, 8.
[40] Frederick James, “Revolution Report” (1968), 6-8; Mal Evans, “The Eighteenth Single” (1968), 6. It is one of the Kinfauns demos.
[41] Lennon, Rolling Stone Interview, Dec. 1970, BBC, part 4; Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 110. This is an odd statement, as both “Revolution 1” and “Revolution” were recorded with the full group, and “Revolution No. 9” was recorded with George and Ringo.
[42] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews , 196-97. George never did warm up to “Revolution,” Anthology , 298.
[43] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews , 196-97. Also: Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror : “Me. I should never have put that in about Chairman Mao.”
[44] Miles, Many Years from Now , 484-85.
[45] Anthology , 289. See also Derek Taylor, Press Release, “Thingumybob,” in Scraping the Barrel: An Apple Singles Collection Catalogue .
[46] Peter Asher, as quoted in Unterberger, The Unreleased Beatles , 349. Engelhart, Beatles Undercover , 58.
[47] Miles, Many Years from Now , 24, see also 458. McCartney 1968, see [no author], “Paul Joins Band” and Pearson, “Paul’s Shout Up at Shipley.”
[48] Anthology , 289.
[49] George Harrison (liner notes for Wonderwall CD). See also White, “George Harrison Reconsidered” (1987), 56.
[50] John Borack, John Lennon: Music, Memories, and Memorabilia , 110, citing Sheff’s interview with John.
[51] Letter to John on John’s Induction.
[52] McCartney, Interview, Radio Luxembourg, Nov. 21, 1968. Miles, Many Years from Now , 422-23.
[53] Goodman, “Paul and Linda McCartney Interview,” Playboy (1984), 110.
[54] Miles, Many Years from Now , 422-23. Du Noyer, Conversations , 32.
[55] As quoted in Miles, Many Years from Now , 422.
[56] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[57] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews , 198.
[58] Ibid., 208.
[59] Miles, Many Years from Now , 417. See also Read, “McCartney on McCartney,” episode 4; Anthology , 284.
[60] Badman, Off the Record , 390. Naturally, Farrow’s perspective is much more sympathetic to herself than is John’s, see Farrow, What Falls Away , 139-40; Turner, A Hard Day’s Write , 151-52. Patti Boyd Harrison also remembered the Beatles singing the song to Prudence, Wonderful Tonight , 117. Farrow, What Falls Away , 139-40, quotes Prudence as saying that John played the song to her, but was surprised when it appeared on an album.
[61] Donovan, Uncut interview (2005). See also Donovan, quoted in Unterberger, The Unreleased Beatles , 197.
[62] Lennon in Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror ( 1971); Mal Evans, “Thirty New Beatles Grooves,” (1968), 12. Mia Farrow, What Falls Away , 139-40, remembered John and Paul writing this, but this can be discounted as secondhand.
[63] Paul, in Cowan, Behind the Beatles Songs , 21.
[64] Ibid.
[65] Lennon, Rolling Stone Interview, Dec. 1970, BBC, part 4; cf. Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 87. See also Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 208-9.
[66] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror ; Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 208-9. See also Mal Evans, “Thirty New Beatles Grooves,” (1968), 12, “Mostly John’s idea this one.”
[67] As quoted in Cowan, Behind the Beatles Songs , 21.
[68] Miles, Many Years from Now , 537.
[69] Goodman, “Paul and Linda McCartney Interview,” Playboy , (1984), 110. Miles, Many Years from Now , 419.
[70] Miles, Many Years from Now , 419.
[71] Saltzman, Excerpt on “Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da.”
[72] Anthology , 284.
[73] McCartney, Interview, Radio Luxembourg, Nov. 21, 1968.
[74] Miles, Many Years from Now , 419. See also Mal Evans, “The Eighteenth Single,” (1968), 6; “Mal’s Diary,” (1968), 11.
[75] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[76] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 208.
[77] Geoff Emerick, Here There Everywhere , 246-47. George Martin tells the story in a much more restrained fashion in Pritchard and Lysaght, The Beatles: an Oral History , 263. For the recording, see also Shotton and Schaffner, The Beatles, Lennon and Me, 348.
[78] Miles, Many Years from Now , 497.
[79] Aldridge, Beatles Illustrated Lyrics , 218.
[80] A Hard Day’s Write , 154.
[81] Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions , 150.
[82] Lost Lennon Tapes, Nov. 14, 1988, cf. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209. Farrow, What Falls Away , 139.
[83] Miles, Many Years from Now , 421. Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[84] Anthology , 306.
[85] Harrison, I Me Mine , 120, see also Yorke, Interview with George Harrison.
[86] Glazer, “Growing Up at 33 1/3.”
[87] Anthology , 306. Paul’s memories of the session are substantially similar, ibid.
[88] Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 114. See also Badman, Off the Record , 392.
[89] Anthology , 307.
[90] Taylor in Somach et al., Ticket to Ride , 221.
[91] Derek Taylor, as quoted in Turner, A Hard Day’s Write , 157.
[92] Lennon 1971 (Anthology , 306).
[93] Badman, Off the Record , 392. See also George Martin in Williams, “Produced by George Martin” (1971). Mal Evans in 1968 (“Thirty New Beatles Grooves,” 12). Chris Thomas, in Pritchard and Lysaght, The Beatles: An Oral History , 266.
[94] Lennon (Anthology , 306). Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror . Badman, Off the Record , 392.
[95] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews , 199. Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror (1971): “Me. That’s another one I like. They all said it was about drugs, but it was more about rock and roll than drugs. It’s sort of a history of rock and roll.”
[96] McCartney, Interview, Radio Luxembourg, Nov. 21, 1968.
[97] Miles, Many Years from Now , 497.
[98] Ibid., 497-98.
[99] McCartney, interview, Radio Luxembourg, Nov. 21, 1968.
[100] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror. See also Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209.
[101] Taylor, Yesterday , 151. See also Winn, That Magic Feeling , 216.
[102] Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 12.
[103] Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 342.
[104] Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 12; Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209. See also Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror (1971).
[105] Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 341.
[106] Miles, Many Years from Now , 421.
[107] Ibid., 485-86.
[108] Hilton, Chaos and Creation at Abbey Road . This may have been a Bach piece played by Chet Atkins, “Bourée,” see Lewisohn, Tune In , 150.
[109] Chris Douridas, Interview with Paul McCartney, May 25, 2002; Everett II, 190. Paul had bought High Park Farm in Campbeltown near the Mull of Kintyre, Scotland on June 16, 1966.
[110] Miles, Many Years from Now , 485-86. Du Noyer, Conversations , 209.
[111] Ibid., 485-86. In a studio session for Mary Hopkins, about November 22, 1968, Paul told Donovan that he wrote this for blacks, after he “read something in the paper about riots and that.” You Tube, “Paul McCartney Donovan -1968,1969,” at 3:55.
[112] Miles, Many Years from Now , 485. See Paul’s Nov. 21, 1968 Interview, Radio Luxembourg; “Q: “‘Blackbird’ I think is quite a beautiful song.” “Thank you, Tony.”
[113] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror (1971). See also George Martin in Pritchard and Lysaght, The Beatles: An Oral History , 264.
[114] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209.
[115] Ibid., 210.
[116] Badman, Off the Record , 394. I Me Mine 126.
[117] Interview, Radio Luxembourg.
[118] Miles, Many Years from Now , 423. See also McCartney before 2003 (Quantick, Revolution , 114).
[119] Mat Smith, “Paul McCartney Speaks.” According to author David Quantick, this was a parody of Robert W. Service’s melodramatic poem, “The Shooting of Dan McGrew,” which also has a Dan and a Lil. Quantick, Revolution , 114.
[120] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[121] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 199.
[122] Kenny Everett, Interview with the Beatles, June 5, 1968.
[123] Everett, Beatles as Musicians I, 173, 206. Lewisohn, Tune In , 691. Ringo mentioned it in April 1964, Winn, Way Beyond Compare , 176.
[124] Lewisohn, Tune In , 691.
[125] The Beatles, Interview, Dunedin, June 26, 1964, Bob Rogers, New City Hotel. Winn, Way Beyond Compare , 210. See also Starr interview, unknown date, Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 370: “I have already recorded my song for the new LP.”
[126] Interview with the Beatles on the Top Gear program, July 14, 1964.
[127] This is not true, by my transcription of the Top Gear interview.
[128] Wiener, “Interview with Ringo Starr.”
[129] Kenny Everett, Interview with the Beatles, June 5, 1968.
[130] Beatles, on Ready Steady Go! Nov. 23, 1964, see Winn, Way Beyond Compare , 286.
[131] Miles, Many Years from Now , 499.
[132] Interview, Radio Luxembourg. For John, Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 199.
[133] Davies, The Beatles (1981), 369.
[134] Ibid. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 199.
[135] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[136] Miles, Many Years from Now , 420.
[137] Ibid.
[138] Interview, Radio Luxembourg. See also Anthology , 284.
[139] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror. Similar: John in 1980, in Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209; Mal Evans in 1968, “Thirty New Beatles Grooves,” 12.
[140] Paul, on January 13, 1969 (Sulpy and Schweighardt, Get Back , 182).
[141] Donovan, as cited in Turner, Hard Day’s Write , 163. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 199-200.
[142] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[143] Smith, “Lennon: Doing The Rounds For Publicity.”
[144] Donovan in 2005 (Uncut interview). See also Donovan, as cited in Turner, Hard Day’s Write , 163. Leitch, The Autobiography of Donovan , 210. Donovan in 2005 (Leitch, “Poet John,” 135).
[145] Donovan, in Unterberger, The Unreleased Beatles , 179, and in Turner, Hard Day’s Write , 163.
[146] Everett II, 170.
[147] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 199-200.
[148] Miles, Many Years from Now , 422. See also, p. 48; Donovan in 1995 (as cited in Miles, Many Years , 421-22).
[149] Press Release, in Harry, The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia , “Birthday (single).” See also a 1990 interview, Baker, “Paul McCartney,” 11.
[150] Interview, Radio Luxembourg (1968).
[151] Press Release, in Harry, The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia , “Birthday (single).”
[152] Miles, Many Years from Now , 496.
[153] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[154] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 200. For Paul, Press Release, in Harry, The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia , “Birthday (single),” quoted above.
[155] In Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions , 156.
[156] Mal Evans 1968 (“Thirty New Beatles Grooves,” 12).
[157] Lennon, Rolling Stone Interview, Dec. 1970, BBC, part 1, cf. Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 12. See also Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209; Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 342.
[158] Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 395. Both John and Paul ascribed this to John. Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror. Miles, Many Years from Now , 497.
[159] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209. Miles, Many Years from Now , 423.
[160] Miles, Many Years from Now , 423.
[161] Ibid., 490. “Nature Boy” was written by eden ahbez (born George Alexander Aberle).
[162] Miles, Many Years from Now , 490.
[163] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror . Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209.
[164] See Paul in 1968 (Interview, Radio Luxembourg). The song “says ‘Born a poor young country boy’ and I was born in Woolton hospital actually — so it’s a dirty lie.”
[165] Miles, Many Years from Now , 490.
[166] “Your Album Queries,” 10.
[167] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 200-1.
[168] Harrison, quoted in Everett II, 180.
[169] Miles, Many Years From Now , 486.
[170] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 200-1.
[171] Miles/McCartney, Many Years from Now , 486.
[172] Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 27. Here John said that the Maharishi tried to rape Mia Farrow or seduce her, which seems unlikely. Mia Farrow, in her autobiography, does mention that the Maharishi put his arms around her unexpectedly at one point, and that she misinterpreted it initially. Prudence told her that an embrace was customary after meditation. Nevertheless, Farrow immediately left the ashram. Farrow, What Falls Away , 141.
[173] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 201. See also Lennon 1970 (Wenner, Lennon Remembers , 27-28); Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror (1971).
[174] Miles, Many Years from Now , 422. Mardas later denied that he had concocted the story, and once again affirmed that Maharishi had made advances toward a woman. Incidentally, he said that he was not at the ashram when Mia Farrow was. Kozinn, “Meditation on the Man Who Saved the Beatles.”
[175] Anthology , 286.
[176] George and John in Anthology , 286. Miles, Many Years from Now , 422.
[177] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror. (1971): John said, of the song, “Me. That was about the Maharishi.” In 1995, Paul asserted: “John wrote ‘Sexy Sadie.’” Miles, Many Years from Now , 422.
[178] Garbarani, “Paul McCartney: Lifting the Veil” (1980), 98. Miles, Many Years from Now , 488.
[179] Miles, Many Years from Now , 488. “I was always trying to write something different, trying to not write in character, and I read this and I was inspired, Oh, wow! Yeah!” See also Garbarini and Baird, “Has Success Spoiled Paul McCartney?” 61; Read, “McCartney on McCartney,” episode 4; Anthology , 311.
[180] McCartney, Interview, Radio Luxembourg, Nov. 21, 1968.
[181] Radice, “A Welter Of Helter Skelters.”
[182] Miles, Many Years from Now , 488.
[183] Anthology , 311.
[184] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror ; Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 210.
[185] Anthology , 311.
[186] I Me Mine , 132.
[187] Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions , 159; Harrison, I Me Mine , 132.
[188] Miles, Many Years from Now , 497. See “When I’m Sixty-Four,” in Sgt. Pepper’s , above.
[189] McCartney, Interview, Radio Luxembourg. See also Garbarani, “Paul McCartney: Lifting the Veil,” (1980), 46.
[190] McCartney, Interview, Radio Luxembourg, Nov. 21, 1968.
[191] Miles, Many Years from Now , 497.
[192] Ibid. Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[193] Harrison in Glazer, “Growing Up at 33 1/3” (1977).
[194] Harrison, I Me Mine , 128.
[195] Ibid. Taylor also remembered this, Somach et al., Ticket to Ride , 221. He had a friend, Barry Feinstein, who had just done a film called You Are What You Eat.
[196] Davies, The Beatles , 277.
[197] Many Years from Now , 487.
[198] Winn, That Magic Feeling , 150.
[199] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror. Miles, Many Years from Now , 487.
[200] “Thirty New Beatles Grooves,” 7.
[201] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209.
[202] Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions , 155.
[203] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 198.
[204] Here, There and Everywhere , 241-42. “I spent more time on ‘Revolution 9’ than I did on half the other songs I ever wrote,” he said ten years later. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews , 198.
[205] Lennon, Rolling Stone Interview, Dec. 1970, BBC, part 4; cf. Wenner, Lennon Remembered , 111. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 198.
[206] Williams, “Produced by George Martin.” See also Chris Thomas before 1999 (Pritchard and Lysaght, The Beatles: An Oral History , 266).
[207] Blackburn and Ali, “Lennon and Ono interview.”
[208] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 198.
[209] Letter to George Martin/Richard Williams, Sept. 1971, in Davies, The John Lennon Letters , 213.
[210] Ibid.
[211] Badman, Beatles Off the Record , 397. See also Yorke, Interview with George Harrison (1969).
[212] Shotton & Schaffner, The Beatles, Lennon and Me, 338.
[213] Ibid., 321-24.
[214] Lewisohn, The Beatles Recording Sessions , 135-39.
[215] Many Years from Now , 487.
[216] B. P. Fallon, Interview with John Lennon, Melody Maker , Apr. 12, 1969 (Sandercombe, The Beatles , 262).
[217] Sheff, The Playboy Interviews, 209; Miles, Many Years from Now , 487.
[218] Emerick, Here There Everywhere , 245.
[219] Fallon, “Will the Real John Lennon” (1969). Also quoted in Schaffner, The Beatles Forever , 115. See also Paul, Interview, Radio Luxembourg.
[220] Hennessey, “Who Wrote What,” Record Mirror.
[221] Fallon, “Will the Real John Lennon.”
[222] McCartney, Interview, Radio Luxembourg, Nov. 21, 1968.
[223] Lewisohn interview, 12 (1988). See also Coleman, McCartney: Yesterday . . . and Today (1995), 98.
[224] Beatles, Illustrated Lyrics , 40. See also Ringo in Anthology , 306.
[225] “The Eighteenth Single,” 8.
[226] “Thirty New Beatles Grooves,” 7.
[227] Coleman, McCartney: Yesterday . . . and Today (1995), 98; Du Noyer, Conversations , 27. “Girl of My Dreams,” by Sonny Clapp, was first recorded by Blue Steele and His Orchestra with Vocal Chorus in 1927. “Little White Lies,” by Walter Donaldson, was first recorded by Fred Waring’s Pennsylvanians in 1930.