Beatles' Let It Be (33 1/3) Page 5

  Tensions had been evident in the studio, long before the “Get Back” sessions. Richard Langham, an engineer who worked at Abbey Road over many years, remembered how the mood at Beatles sessions changed over the years. “You could feel tensions,” he stated. “[The Beatles] were all very nice to us. We never got the brunt of it all. A lot of people didn’t want to work on Beatles sessions. The in-joke sort of was, if you were naughty you were put on a Beatles session.”

  Discussions ensued on how to proceed without Harrison. There was, oddly enough, almost a sense of complete denial of the fact that he was gone. Lindsay-Hogg even suggested that for the live concert they could simply say he was sick. As for John Lennon, his famous quote was, “If he doesn’t come back by Tuesday, we’ll just get Clapton.”

  While Harrison’s departure in retrospect may seem cataclysmic, one doesn’t get that impression when listening to the bootlegs of that day. Some bootlegs reveal that the breaking point for Harrison may have come after a messy version of “Two of Us.” After the opening guitar chords of “I Saw Her Standing There” break down, it appears that Harrison is indeed leaving the group. He rather casually says, “I’m leaving the band now. You can place an ad in the NME.” He also seems to be making a comment about how Apple’s publicity department could deal with the reasons for his leaving the group.

  Without missing a beat, the other three launch into ragged, rushed, near hysterical versions of “I’ve Got a Feeling,” “Don’t Let Me Down,” and “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.” All the songs were done in an obvious jocular manner, and John and Paul’s vocals are sung in a feverish and comedic way. John’s near-primal scream comedy vocal approach shows either his complete lack of concern that George has left or a nervous disgust over how much these sessions have completely fallen to pieces.

  The seven days of filming were unlike anything the group had ever done before. With their live performing days behind them, they had not rehearsed in years. Also, there was no clear plan on what the rehearsals would lead to. The fact that they were being filmed at the chilly, fishbowl-like Twickenham soundstage obviously must have added to the tension of the rehearsals.

  What was going through the Beatles’ minds while they played at Twickenham? Whatever tension there was, there still must have been a bittersweet feeling as well. As they played some of their old songs and especially covers of songs that were part of their early stage show, memories of their hungry years must have crossed their minds. As they spontaneously ran through songs like “Hippy, Hippy Shake,” “Dizzy Miss Lizzy,” and “Money,” did they recall those sweaty nights in the dank Cavern cellar in Liverpool? Did they remember how tired and wired they were as they blasted out set after set at the Kaiserkeller, the Star Club, and the Top Ten Club in Hamburg, Germany? The incessant touring in the U.K., in America, and in the East, and all the television shows they had done must have come to mind as they played certain songs. Did it add to their misery, recalling the exhausting schedules of the past, or did it inspire sadness, knowing they had now come full circle with the end clearly in sight? There had to be that sense of what happens when old friends, who have long drifted apart, get back together. As much as everyone wants things to be the way they once were, it simply can’t happen. By playing those old songs, the Beatles must have known they were tempting fate. Like characters in a Thomas Wolfe story, they were trying to get back homeward, but of course they couldn’t.

  The timing of George Harrison’s departure may have been somewhat premeditated. While it has long been stated that George left because he had grown tired of Paul’s superior behavior, he was also apparently furious with John. He was not speaking to him because John was making a minimal contribution to the sessions. Yoko was often speaking on John’s behalf, and comments John had made in a recent interview about how Apple was losing money had just come out in Disc and Music Echo. George may also have had another reason for leaving the group. On January 12, the film Wonderwall opened in London at the Cinecenta cinema. Wonderwall was directed by Joe Massot, who would go on to direct the Led Zeppelin concert film The Song Remains The Same (which included camera work by Beatles album cover photographer Robert Freeman). The film had premiered at the Cannes Film Festival on May 15, 1968. George, who had supplied the film’s soundtrack, had attended the premiere with his wife Pattie, and Ringo and his wife Maureen. The soundtrack, released on Apple, was actually the first solo project put out by a member of the group. It was released in November of 1968 in the U.K. and in December in the United States. Featuring mostly Indian musicians, the soundtrack was recorded between November 1967 and January 1968 at Abbey Road and at EMI’s Bombay, India studios. The film premiere in London was perhaps just what George needed. He had long had to subsume his own creative impulses and toil in the shadow of John and Paul’s dominance over the group. Producing the music for a film must have helped give him the confidence to walk out at that time.

  While Harrison’s departure would seem emblematic of the tensions of the Twickenham sessions, and while the “Get Back”/“Let It Be” project has generally been considered a depressing experience for all involved, Les Parrott’s distinct memories paint another picture. “To be honest,” he begins, “the atmosphere and strain between the Beatles that so many have said was so obvious … well, it wasn’t—well, not to the crew as such or myself.” He continues, “Firstly, they weren’t sitting that close and each tended to keep to themselves and their instrument. There were never any heated exchanges on the floor. Any emotional debates took place off camera.”

  Parrott’s observation, when filtered through the lenses of the bootlegs of the Twickenham sessions, confirms his assertion that it wasn’t all so dreadful. There was considerable laughter throughout. Conscious of the ragged nature of many of the performances, all four Beatles nervously laughed at their lack of polish and the fact that they were continually forgetting lines of their songs or of the myriad covers that they were performing. Also, while working on a new song, the members often sang silly lyrics to fill in any gaps.

  The fact that the Twickenham filming was often a fun experience was also confirmed by Glyn Johns in an interview he did with the BBC Radio 1 series, which was made into the book The Record Producers. Johns found the group during the “Get Back”/“Let It Be” project to be “hysterically funny … their humour got to me as much as the music, and I didn’t stop laughing for six weeks.” He continued: “John Lennon only had to walk in a room, and I’d just crack up. Their whole mood was wonderful. There was all this nonsense going on at the time about the problems surrounding the group, and the press being at them, and in fact, there they were, just doing it, having a wonderful time and being incredibly funny, and none of that’s in the film.”

  Dave Harries also felt that there was considerable joy during the filming. “They did have a lot of fun,” he recalled. “I don’t remember any animosity. You argue with your mates occasionally and walk off, but there didn’t seem to be any long-term nastiness going on.”

  Anthony Richmond, who was the cinematographer for the film and had also worked with Michael Lindsay-Hogg on the Rock And Roll Circus, has fond memories of January 1969 as well. “There are moments where they’re having a rough time,” he begins, “but you could also see moments where they’re just mucking about and having a good time and laughing and joking, and Lennon’s dancing. I can only remember it as a good time.”

  The verdict on whether the Twickenham sessions verged on being one big laugh or something close to a funeral for the Beatles depends on who you talk to and when you talk to them. Contradictions abound, as when one listens to John Lennon laughing, joking and having fun just jamming on the bootlegs and then hears him reflecting on the sessions. When Lennon gave a long interview in 1971 to Jann Wenner of Rolling Stone magazine, he remarked about the filming, “It was just a dreadful, dreadful feeling in Twickenham Studio, being filmed all the time, I just wanted them to go away. We’d be there at eight in the morning in a strange place, with people filming you and
colored lights flashing.”

  As for George, he didn’t simply go off to his mum’s house in Liverpool and await the premiere of Wonderwall. That weekend he wrote a song that later debuted on All Things Must Pass. The song, “Wah Wah,” effectively stated his complete disillusionment with the Beatles and allowed him musically to vent his anger over the months of turmoil that included the laborious White Album sessions, various Apple business dealings and the Twickenham filming.

  On January 13, Paul and Ringo returned to Twickenham and, in the absence of both George and John, did no more than sit around and chat. George’s absence was paid little notice, but there was much animosity directed at Yoko’s presence. John finally showed up around mid-afternoon and attempts were made to work on “Get Back.” By then, the lyrics closely approximated those of the final version of the song.

  The next day was pretty much a repeat of the previous one. Paul and Ringo showed up, and John arrived quite late again. He appeared ill, a result of his by then obvious drug intake. Yet, even with John initially being out of sorts and George gone from the group, the three seemingly had a grand old time making up fake movie scenarios and joking around. The conversations, which also included Denis O’Dell, George Martin, and, it would appear, Glyn Johns and Michael Lindsay-Hogg, all sounded very relaxed and collegial. John was on a non-stop rap that mixed lots of off-color humor, drug references (aided by Paul), word-play, sending up of the music and film biz, and tangential satire, all seemingly thoroughly enjoyed by Paul. Paul even baited John and Yoko into discussing what Two Virgins was all about. Adding to the joy, though tinged with sarcasm and some discomfort, was the arrival on the set of Peter Sellers. Once again, very little music was rehearsed.

  Wednesday, January 15, would prove to be the last day of filming at Twickenham and nothing of any note was done on that day. It is not clear whether anyone other than Paul actually showed up.

  While it has been chronicled that there was a meeting held the previous Sunday, January 12, at Ringo’s house in Elstead, it was apparently not very productive. Reportedly, George, incensed at John’s obstinate behavior, walked out. On the evening of the 15th, another meeting, which reportedly lasted nearly five hours, took place at Ringo’s house. All four Beatles attended.

  George had returned from Liverpool and told the others he was prepared to leave the group unless some conditions were met. Filming at Twickenham was to end and talk of a live concert was also to be abandoned. By “live concert,” George meant playing at a London venue, on a boat, or in some far-off place like Tripoli. There was still the possibility of the group’s being filmed performing live, but instead they would do something in a controlled environment, secretly, with no audience. George suggested that they should take some of the new songs they had begun, add more if necessary, and record a new album at their new studio in the basement of Apple’s headquarters. All agreed to George’s conditions and it was decided that the project would continue on January 20. In fact, it actually began on January 22. We shall soon see why this delay took place.

  For the time being and through the release of the final Let It Be album, 223 rolls of corresponding film and audio recorded over 10 days and amounting to nearly 60 hours of film and synched sound would be left almost completely unused. The Beatles had played over 200 different songs and innumerable jams and improvisations during the Twickenham filming.

  Chapter Three

  We’re on Our Way Home

  The Beatles would now move to their Apple headquarters to make a proper album. During the break between the rehearsals at Twickenham and the sessions at Apple, other Beatles business matters would continue.

  January 17 saw the official release in the U.K. of the soundtrack of the film Yellow Submarine. The film had premiered on July 17, 1968, at the London Pavilion in Soho. The release of the soundtrack was held up to avoid any conflict with the release of The White Album. (As it turned out, The White Album was not actually released until November 22, 1968, in the U.K. and November 25 in the U.S.) On January 18, John Lennon gave an interview to Ray Coleman in the offices of Apple, during which he said, “Apple’s losing money every week … if it carries on like this, all of us will be broke in the next six months.” The quote, which appeared in Disc and Music Echo, only further antagonized George Harrison.

  Apple, 3 Savile Row, Mayfair, London

  Apple Studios was located in the basement of Apple’s headquarters. By January 1, 1969, all Apple business was primarily conducted out of that building, which was situated in a posh section of Mayfair, just off Regent Street, in a neighborhood filled with some of London’s finest tailors. Since 1956, the bandleader Jack Hylton had run his theatrical management firm from the Georgian building. The building came complete with a huge fireplace and oak beams. After Apple moved in, thick, apple-green carpet was installed throughout the building. While the fireplace remained, the oak beams were covered over with cheap, clinical-looking polystyrene. There was also a reversible wall in the studio, with carpet on one side and metal on the other.

  One of the first releases from Apple was “Sour Milk Sea” by Jackie Lomax. The song was written and produced by George Harrison. Together with “Hey Jude,” “Those Were the Days” by Mary Hopkin, and the Black Dyke Mills Band’s “Thingumybob,” it constituted what was called Our First Four, a set of Apple’s first four singles, released on August 26, 1968.

  Lomax later had two more singles released by Apple, and his full-length album, Is This What You Want?, was released by the label on May 19, 1969. He spoke about the early promise of Apple. “In the first year there was a tremendous atmosphere there—a creative, drivingforce atmosphere,” he stated. “Things could happen, dreams could be met; optimism.” For Lomax that early excitement didn’t last long. “Then, after the first year,” he recalled, “they (the Beatles) sort of figured out how much they spent—and it was a lot—on different projects. I think they just reversed momentum so much that they went the other way into ‘Let’s stop it all.’ That’s what happened when Allen Klein got there.” Lomax couldn’t help but come back wistfully to how it was at first. “It was nice. It was relaxed. It was easy,” he recalled.

  Neil Aspinall was the managing director of Apple Corps. Aspinall began life with the Beatles back in their Liverpool days as a roadie and then as a driver. Apple consisted of many divisions. Among them were the studio, the record label (which was run by Ron Kass and employed Peter Asher as A&R Director), Apple Electronics (headed not so successfully by Alex Madras), and Apple Films (run by Denis O’Dell). There were many other divisions as well. They were individually responsible for retail, wholesale, television, and even tailoring. Other key people employed by Apple were press officer Derek Taylor and his assistant Richard DiLello (affectionately called the “House Hippie”). Several others, such as Tony Bramwell, Brian Lewis, and Jeremy Banks, held various positions for differing lengths of time. Peter Brown, in his roles as the Beatles’ personal assistant and later general manager, was also a significant figure at Apple.

  Gene Mahon designed the Apple logo, and Alan Aldridge came up with the lettering. Paul Castell took the various photos of the logo that were used for record album labels and singles.

  Alistair Taylor weighed in on Apple:

  Apple was chaotic. Times there were not pleasant. Everyone remembers the Savile Row building. It’s now the headquarters of the U.K. Building Societies Association. I wasn’t happy at Apple after the discipline of NEMS.

  I remember Derek Taylor, in his huge peacock chair, and Richard (DiLello), his assistant, perching on the filing cabinet. Antiques and expensive office furniture abounded. Petty theft was rife. Expensive pieces of art were bought—and then stolen.

  The air was filled day after day with the unmistakable aroma of cannabis. Alex (Madras) decided to turn the basement into a studio. The building almost collapsed when he began knocking down a supporting wall. Sheer and utter chaos!

  The Beatles made some of their greatest music during the Apple years, but
as a business it was a shambles. It was a massive, chaotic, drug-addled business with no controls and no direction. Money was wasted every second of every day, and if I said anything I’d be told, “Don’t be a drag, Al.”

  The building quickly drew the attention of Beatles fans, who would hang around outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of a Beatle. George Harrison affectionately immortalized the rag-tag throng in his song “Apple Scruffs,” which appeared on All Things Must Pass.

  The relationship between the Beatles and Abbey Road has been well documented and makes up a large part of the entire history and myth of the group. The fact is, though, that for some time the Beatles had been growing tired of Abbey Road. The opening of Apple Studios was partly the result of the Beatles’ festering unhappiness with Abbey Road.

  Abbey Road was run very efficiently. Engineers who worked there were highly trained. They began their training by filing tapes for three months or so at the vast EMI tape library (located at Abbey Road), or by working at the company’s factory in Hayes. The record engineering development division was located at Hayes and was where much of the electronic equipment used at Abbey Road was designed, built, modified, and fully tested before being installed at Abbey Road. The fledgling engineers would then move on and shadow someone already installed as an assistant engineer at Abbey Road. At that point they would be known as second engineer (or, alternately, as “tape-op”), and in many cases their job would involve nothing more than turning the tape machines on and off and keeping logs of the sessions. They would then graduate to the title of engineer or, as it was called, balance engineer. As such, they would assist the producer, who, in the case of the Beatles, was usually George Martin, and run the mixing board. The engineers would also be trained in very specific methods of sound recording. In keeping with the emphasis on efficiency and orderliness, the engineers and especially the technical staff were expected to wear white lab coats or at least a tie, a practice that went on into the early 70s.