An Open Letter to Sir Paul McCartney: Come to the Fest!

Dear Sir Paul, (although many of us still fondly think of you as Paul, the lad from Allerton)

 

It was your idea, remember? In 1969, you tried to convince John that The Beatles ought to surprise random audiences and give impromptu concerts at smaller venues. He called the concept “daft.” We think it, genius.

 

Please…surprise us!!!

 

Last year, we watched longingly as you played the Philharmonic Pub to that lucky crowd gathered around you (and James Corden). We smiled to see you enjoying “Get (ting) Back” to your roots — to the haunts around The Institute that you know so well. We grinned along with the thrilled, enthusiastic crowd who will most certainly tell their grandchildren about the day they were fortunate to see Paul McCartney in Hope Street.

 

Please…thrill us!!!

 

Every one of us shared the priceless photo on social media (and in The Sun) of you riding blissfully along on a U.K. train, checking your texts and reading the newspaper…sitting there casually “in the trenches,” one of us again. To a man, (and a woman), we pretended that we were the providential passenger sitting across the aisle, giving you complete privacy while longing to lean over and whisper, “Just so you know, you changed my life forever.”

 

Give us that chance.

 

Please…trust us!!!

 

The Fest for Beatles Fans is in its 45th year, and for 45 years, we have gathered twice annually (in some years, three and four times) to play your songs, discuss the events of your life in depth, celebrate your new releases, and share our treasured photographs from your concerts. Some of us can boast never missing a Fest for Beatles Fans since its inception. Others are proud to have attended for 15 or 20 consecutive years, and yes, even that “modest” number is an investment of time, money, and devotion. We are fans in the truest sense of the word. No group of people anywhere would be more appreciative or more overcome with joy to welcome you in person.

 

We think you’d enjoy meeting us as well. A good many of us remember that first Ed Sullivan show. We were there, too…watching…agog. And for us, that night was just the beginning of live concerts, purchased LPs, trips to Liverpool, and a life of devotion.

 

Others of us are Second Gen fans…schoolteachers and dentists and accountants in our forties. But don’t let our age fool you! We’re no less devoted than the Baby Boomers. In fact, because we were introduced to The Beatles and Wings and “Macca” by our parents, teachers, or slightly older friends, we’ve compensated by becoming intensely passionate fans.

 

Finally, a huge portion of our Fest Family is comprised of Third Genners…excited and proud to be Beatles and McCartney fans in our teens and twenties. We know the stories just as well as the others do. And fifty years from now, we’ll be the ones telling them to those who will follow.

 

We are diverse. But demographics aside, Paul, we find that at heart, our Fest Family is very much alike. We subscribe to Beatlefan magazine and Octopus’ Garden fanzine. We listen to podcasts such as “Something About The Beatles” and “Breakfast with The Beatles” and “Beatles Brunch.” We have McCartney and Beatles libraries in our homes. We’ve collected every concert t-shirt you’ve ever printed. In short, we are your people — the ones who would really cherish that incredible moment when you’d suddenly appear on The Fest for Beatles Fans stage and rave across the boards, with a little help from your friends.

 

This year, the New Jersey Fest for Beatles Fans is set for Friday, 29 March; Saturday, 30 March, and Sunday, 31 March, and you are most cordially invited, Sir Paul. It would, indeed, be the honor of a lifetime to have you there!

 

We hope to see you in Jersey City at the Hyatt Regency where, thanks to the hard work of Mark and Carol Lapidos, their daughters Michelle Joni and Jessica, and the Fest staff and family, a “splendid time is guaranteed for all.” Having you with us, even for a moment or so, would certainly make it so. It was a great idea in 1969…but it’s an even better one now!

 

Cryin’, wishin’, hopin’, (your Cavern song!)

Your Fest Fans

 

P.S. We love you.


Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

 

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

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Esher You Love It, Or You Don’t

The Esher Demos, those delightful “unplugged” precursors to The Beatles’ self-titled LP (commonly known as the White Album), were proof positive that Lennon and McCartney had completely different ideas about the way that rock’n’roll should be fashioned. 

 

From Day One, John firmly believed that music should be created extemporaneously — that reworking a piece over and over was “doin’ a thing to death.” John believed that a song’s beauty lay in its imperfection. Paul, on the other hand, thought that a musical composition should be slowly honed and developed…that a recording should be tweaked and re-recorded until the final product was exactly the way the songwriter wanted it. Two concepts. Both viable. 180 out.

 

Paul, therefore, arrived at George Harrison’s home, Kinfauns, in Esher, England on that day in late May 1968, with a pre-recorded tape of polished offerings for the next album. The songs that Paul played for his friends that chilly afternoon were very similar to the final product he offered listeners via the White Album tracks. Paul changed little in studio because he had worked diligently, (by himself and ahead of time) before he presented his Esher demos to The Beatles.

 

Not so with John Lennon. John arrived in Kinfauns with the beginnings of several excellent songs. He brought with him ideas and concepts that were to be “fleshed out by the band.” John proposed tangible ideas for his songs, but he had always believed that it took the consummate talents of the entire group to bring a song to life.

 

However, in the case of two tracks that John created for the White Album, there was a bit of theoretical acquiescence and compromise. In developing these songs, John did use the talents and efforts of his entire group, but he also employed the McCartney recipe for success. The two songs we’re about to look at evolved slowly, and they changed dramatically from May of 1968 to their eventual, delayed release. They are:

 

Child of Nature

 

Whist in Rishikesh, both John and Paul were inspired to write songs based on a talk that the Maharishi had given about the relationship between man and nature. Paul wrote “Mother Nature’s Son,” and John penned “Child of Nature.”

 

On some level, John must have known that the lyrics he’d scribbled onto paper were rather ludicrous. John was no child of nature.  In fact, I can only think of ONE instance in which he was profoundly touched by the majesty of his surroundings. In May of 1964, when John and Cynthia visited the Irish Cliffs of Mohr, John had perched alone, for some time, on a rocky, wind-swept Irish ledge. With Cynthia watching him protectively from a distance, John had taken it all in. And that afternoon as the sun set, he discovered a deep kinship with Ireland…a spiritual connection that spurred him to tell Cynthia that Ireland was where he wanted to retire, to spend the end of his life.

 

But otherwise, John spent as little time in nature as possible. Even when fervently trying to raise funds for a new guitar by mowing Mimi’s lawn, he never quite finished the job. Mimi told Ray Coleman: “He’d do half the job and give me a squeaker kiss for the rest.” John Lennon was no Euell Gibbons.

 

So here, in “Child of Nature” — as John tries to create a song about a theme that is foreign to him — he can’t quite take the job seriously. Indeed, as he sings his demo at Kinfauns, he warbles in a rather mocking way, filling the performance with exaggerated vibrato. It almost seems as if he is making fun of himself. In his heart of hearts, John knew that his lyrics lacked sincerity.

 

However, John didn’t give up on the offering…that afternoon, he diligently worked with his group. He double-tracked his voice on George’s Ampex recorder; he asked Ringo to use a shaker to accompany him. But despite a sincere effort, the song failed to soar.

 

Always shrewd and self-evaluating, John didn’t permit “Child of Nature” to be included on the White Album. For months after the LP’s release, he held it in abeyance.

 

Then, on the first day of the Let It Be sessions, John toyed with the offering again, recording it without that famous opening line, “On the road to Rishikesh.” By that juncture in history, John wanted nothing to remind him of the Maharishi. But try as he might, “Child of Nature” still didn’t work.

 

Finally, in 1971, John got down to brass tacks. He completely retooled the song into the very honest, open, and frank “Jealous Guy.” Now singing bespoke lyrics that suited his life and personality, John hit the mark.

 

I was dreaming of the past

And my heart was beating fast

I began to lose control, I began to lose control…

I didn’t mean to hurt you

I’m sorry that I made you cry…

 

Now this was about the real John…the little boy who had been so abandoned in his past that he could never trust future relationships…the child who had been so unloved that he could never relax into loving without the trembling query, “If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true??” The lyrics of “Jealous Guy” were fitting for the man who often hurt people before they could hurt him. It was a genuine song.

 

In transforming “Child of Nature,” John had adopted Paul’s caution against work created too spontaneously. Though much later, John’s bent towards immediate release would succeed with “Instant Karma,” here a brilliant work was unearthed through years of change and reconsideration. “Child of Nature” was the germ of what would later become one of John’s most outstanding works.

 

Sexy Sadie

 

Like the British Romantic poets (Keats, Shelly, Wordsworth, Poe, Coleridge), John was most productive during periods of trial. His gift (and his key to survival) was transforming pain into music. And since the spring of 1968 was replete with pain and anguish for him, John was writing superb music.  Therefore, John came to Kinfauns bearing splendid songs to offer his mates. Some, like “Sexy Sadie,” however, still needed work.

 

Most Beatles fans know that John had penned “Sexy Sadie” in Rishikesh, during the aftermath of a rumour that the Maharishi had committed a grave impropriety with one of the young females on the Rishikesh excursion (a Mia Farrow look-alike named Pat, a nurse from Southern California).

 

John, who’d fervently hoped that the Maharishi would be “The Answer” to his marital problems and his discontent, reacted violently to the “griff” that the supposed holy man was more man than holy. John deducted, very sadly, that the Maharishi, therefore, probably didn’t hold the peace he was seeking, and disgusted, John had begun packing to leave India.

 

The version of “Sexy Sadie” that John sang to his friends in Esher wasn’t, of course, the original Rishikesh version. Only George Harrison had heard the initial lyrics, and he’d wisely convinced John not to use them. George had also encouraged John to scrap the very pointed title, “Maharishi,” pointing out not only the legal ramifications, but also, the bad karma one might incur from such a rash move. And John had listened.

 

With wisdom prevailing, John didn’t perform the original song at Kinfauns, either. Already, he’d begun the process of transforming “Maharishi” into the more acceptable “Sexy Sadie.” John had already implemented changes that would permit this song to be played on radio.

 

On July 19 and 21, in EMI Studios, John continued to cultivate his song. But this time, he moved more rapidly than he did with “Child of Nature.” Following his long-held philosophy of developing a song in studio with his band, John worked with “the group” to shape the track. The Beatles did 21 takes of “Sexy Sadie” on July 19, and then, completed another 23 takes on 24 July.  And that work certainly paid off.

 

“Sexy Sadie” emerged as the version that we now know. Although it is a rather “watered down” shadow of John’s original manuscript, the enhanced track appealed to a much wider group of listeners. Who hadn’t, at least once, been duped by a charming and duplicitous man or woman? Who hadn’t been deceived? John Lennon had sagely turned a personal affront into a universal theme…and in doing so, had created one of the strongest offerings on the White.

 

To learn more about the Esher Demos, attend Dr. Kit O’Toole’s presentation at the 2019 New York Metro Fest for Beatles Fans where you’ll be able to hear gifted musician, Scott Erickson, perform many of these unique songs for you.

 

To order your own copy of the newly remastered Esher Demos, HEAD HERE


Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

 

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

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‘Tis the Esher Season!

Part 1

 

Prior to their 1968 summer and early autumn recording sessions at EMI, Paul McCartney stated that The Beatles’ original plan was to have several rehearsals prior to the recording of their new LP.[i] But “life,” as we all know, “is what happens while you’re making other plans.” [ii] And so, the boys got one day and one day only to present their ideas and concept songs for The Beatles LP to one another. But what a magical day it turned out to be…and what remarkable tracks have recently been revealed to us via the long-awaited mid-November 2018 release of the Esher Demos.

 

For McCartney fans, there are not as many diamonds to unearth on Esher as there are for Lennon or Harrison aficionados. In keeping with Paul’s lifelong belief that rock’n’roll should be well-manufactured rather than grown, extemporaneously organic, Paul came to George Harrison’s house at Kinfauns with his demo songs almost completely fleshed out. Prior to his arrival in Esher, Paul had performed and recorded the songs with full backing tracks. He’d left very little to the imagination. Indeed, few of McCartney’s Esher offerings deviate significantly from the version we’ve come to know so well on the White Album.

 

And although Ringo contributed significantly to the White Album, there was no original Starr composition proudly presented to the others on that late day in May 1968. Therefore, in Part 1 of our discussion of the Esher Demos, our focus will turn to two of George Harrison’s offerings, “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and “Not Guilty.”  In Part 2, we’ll consider Harrison’s “Sour Milk Sea” and a clever Lennon contribution: “What’s the New Mary Jane?” And in our final blog prior to the New York Metro Fest, we’ll examine John’s “Child of Nature” and “Julia.”

 

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While My Guitar Gently Weeps — In Rishikesh, India, George was less productive musically than John and Paul because he firmly believed that writing music was contrary to everything The Beatles had journeyed to India to achieve. They were supposed to be (he insisted) retreating from work and the pressures of business; they were supposed to be concentrating on their souls.

 

Paul later commented on the Rishikesh experience: “I remember talking about the next album, and George was quite strict. He’d say, ‘We’re not here to talk music; we’re here to meditate.’”[iii]  But agreeing to George’s face, Paul kept right on clandestinely writing music…while John meditated but worked openly — looking, all the while, for “a shortcut” to the Inner Light.

 

But despite their myriad of distractions from the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s teachings, the deep influence of India, nevertheless, filled the White Album. Indeed, George was later quoted as saying, “The experience of India was all embodied in that album.”[iv] And nowhere is it heard or felt more than in the reflective, soul-searching Esher version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

 

Without being preachy (and George could occasionally be preachy, as in “Within You, Without You”), this quiet song enumerates the sins and faults of his “brothers” and almost pleads with them for repentance and a better way forward.

 

In this raw, primitive Esher version — minus the urgency of Clapton’s dazzling lead guitar — you can hear George’s heartbreak. Rock’n’roll author of The Recipe Records Series, Lanea Stagg, commented, “You can almost taste the salt of George’s tears.” Pared down to its essentials, Esher’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” is even more poignant and touching than its final iteration.

 

This May 1968 version of the song is the background that we hear playing as Martin Scorsese’s “Living in the Material World, Part II” opens. And it’s an apt beginning to the second half of George’s biography, because with this song, Harrison more or less declares his independence from The Beatle collective and dejectedly, but firmly, sets out on his solo career.

 

Once this song goes into EMI production — once it’s engineered and filled out — the listener will hear Harrison’s words less clearly, less pointedly. But here, with minimal embellishment, one digests the deep disappointment that George has found in John and Paul:

 

“I don’t know why nobody told you how to unfold your love,

I don’t know how someone controlled you,

They bought and sold you.”

 

 

However, although you can’t miss the sorrow in George’s voice (the regret that things have played out as they have), you can also hear his resolve. He has come to terms with the fact that the world is still turning; he realizes that there are other options for him. And if waiting around too long to be respected has been a mistake, well, “with every mistake, we must surely be learning.” And so, George is sadly — very sadly — realizing that he must now move on.

 

“While My Guitar Gently Weeps” always tugs at the heartstrings, but never more than when you hear it without any distractions. This is just George from Speke telling his boyhood Merseyside friends how much he has loved them and how much he has suffered…and now, at last, he intends to say goodbye.

 

In this version, it is George Harrison’s — and no one else’s — guitar that gently weeps.

 

Not Guilty –

 

“Not Guilty” is another of George Harrison’s songs (in the same vein as “Piggies,” “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” and “Sour Milk Sea”) in which he reprimands his mates for the way they’ve dealt with him through the years.  However, his other songs are rather veiled — somewhat softened. This track is not milquetoast. This is Harrison standing up for himself, without apology, without regret.

 

In fact, in 1999, George told Billboard Editor-in-Chief, Timothy White, that this song addresses “the grief I was catching from Lennon and McCartney post-India.” He went on to say that he was telling them once and for all that: “I wasn’t guilty of getting in the way of their career. I said I wasn’t guilty of leading them astray in our going to Rishikesh to see the Maharishi. I was sticking up for myself …”[v]

 

According to Harrison biographer Peter Doggett, in You Never Give Me Your Money, another issue that George was addressing was the incredible amount of money that The Beatles had invested on the launch of Apple. George had always been a sharp-eyed steward of the group’s finances, and in the spring of 1968, he felt that Apple’s extravagances were “too lavish” and unnecessary. In “Not Guilty,” Harrison relents and says he “won’t upset the Apple cart.” But, clearly, George isn’t pleased with the status quo.

 

The Esher version of “Not Guilty” is clear evidence that by May of 1968, George Harrison was no longer content to be long-suffering, to bite back his indignation, to “get along.” From the secure environment of his own home, Harrison cleared his throat, lifted his head, and sang his lyrics unabashedly — face-to-face with the friends who’d implied that he’d led them astray by convincing them to go to Rishikesh. He stared into their eyes and told them that he had never stood in the way of their progress…and that he had no apologies whatsoever for his behavior. It was a bold move, albeit an emotional one.

 

In the Esher Demo of “Not Guilty,” you can hear the passion in George’s voice. You can also feel the rigid, awkward silence all around him.

 

Next blog: “Sour Milk Sea” and “What’s the New Mary Jane?”

 

Purchase the re-engineered White Album with the Esher Demos and liner notes HERE.


[i] Howlett, Kevin, “Esher Demos” liner notes for the re-engineered White Album, November 2018.

[ii] Lennon, John, “Beautiful Boy” lyrics, with credit to Allen Saunders, an American cartoonist who created Mary Worth and used this phrase in a piece in Readers’ Digest in Feb. 1957.

[iii] Howlett, Kevin, “On the Road to the White Album,” liner notes for the re-engineered White Album, November 2018.

[iv] Howlett, “Esher Demos” liner notes for the re-engineered White Album, November 2018.

[v] Huntley, Elliot J., Mystical One: George Harrison – After the Break-Up of The Beatles, 165.


Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

 

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

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All The Lonely People

Revolver: It was a serious LP about solemn issues, and no song expressed the theme of this album better than “Eleanor Rigby.”

 

Ah, look at all the lonely people!

 

That formal “Greek chorus” opening the song boldly announced to us all the “grand motif” of the songs that would follow (and repeated the theme of “Taxman,” which had just preceded it). “Ah, look at all the lonely people!” It was Revolver’s seven-word synopsis, in all its intricacy and creative glory.

 

So why is “Eleanor Rigby” not the opening song on the LP, then? Why is it placed as the second track on the record?

 

For the listener, “Taxman” is the equivalent of a novel’s “hook,” that exciting chapter that draws the reader into the book at large.  But then, in Chapter Two – in “Eleanor Rigby” – the reader settles into the narrative and begins the book in earnest. He or she takes a breath, sits back, and listens…begins to pay attention and absorb the theme of what is to come.

 

“Taxman” immediately grabs our attention, but in “Eleanor Rigby” (to the moving, poignant sound of a string octet [1]), we are given a quiet moment to stop, think, and preview every single issue to follow on this album: isolation, loneliness, love desired, love denied, and finally, death. In the storied lives of Eleanor Rigby and Father McKenzie, we get a glimpse of all this is to come: the irreparable heartbreak in “For No One,” the aching need and hunger in the seemingly jaunty “Got to Get You Into My Life [2],” the anger in “And Your Bird Can Sing,” and even the deep depression of “She Said She Said.” It’s all there.

 

For The Beatles, this song couldn’t have come at a better time. A fissure was on its way to becoming a cleft (bass and treble), and the cleft would eventually become a split. But right now, it was only a fissure. Barely there, and yet, still a problem. But magically, this lovely song about isolation and loneliness, for a time, bridged that fragile gap and brought The Beatles close together again. If only for a short time.

 

They met at John’s Kenwood and began tackling “Eleanor Rigby” as a team. Paul had already developed the basic melody, but many of the lyrics still eluded him. The central character (eventually Eleanor) had inadequately evolved from “Ola Na Tungee” to “Miss Daisy Hawkins” without Paul’s feeling that this was right [3]. And similarly, he was searching for a story about the parish priest. And so, he left London behind and went out into the night, in search of a little help from his friends.

 

According to Pete Shotton, when Paul arrived at John’s “Kenwood,” John, George, Ringo, and Pete were all there [4]. John, bored with the telly, suggested they all go up to his recording studio “’n play a bit of music [5].” And that is when Paul offered up “this little tune here [that] keeps poppin’ into me head, but I haven’t got very far with it [6].” And so the lads listened…and began to offer suggestions.

 

Pete pointed out that the fans would “think that’s your poor old dad” in the song “left all alone in Liverpool to darn his own socks [7].” And alarmed, Paul quickly agreed: they needed a new name for the lonely cleric. So Pete, thumbing through a phone book, began to call out Mc-names to the gathered group. “McVicar?” he shouted. Hilarious…and so, not appropriate for the song’s disposition. “McKenzie?” Right. It fit the melody’s patter, and besides, they’d once known that Northwich Memorial Hall compere, Tommy McKenzie. “Good man – Tommy!” one of them said. “Yeah, right, give the lad a nod!”

 

So Father McKenzie it was…a holy man wholly alone, solitary, and brooding. But doing what exactly? “Darnin’ his socks in the night,” Ringo suggested. “Yeah, right!” “That!” And it was adopted on the spot.

 

“Writin’ sermons that no one will hear,” John claimed to have added later, in a room alone with Paul [8]. And that, too, became part of the song.

 

It was George, however, who suggested the most memorable line of all: “Ah, look at all the lonely people [9].” A simple phrase. Perfect. It spoke eloquently of solitary Eleanor, unloved and unlovely, picking up not her bouquet, but fallen rice littering an empty church where a wedding had been. It captured the spirit of the devoted, solitary man of God whose entire life’s work had (alas) saved no one. It was the quintessential line of hopelessness that hovered over this beautiful song of longing.

 

The Beatles: each one of them added something. (Even Pete, who’d once been a QuarryMan and their mate in the Jacaranda [10]). For several hours, the lads worked together, standing close – shoulder to shoulder, as it were – and in that small bit of time, the fissure closed.

 

In days to come, Paul would record the song alone, with John and George only brought in to sing harmony. No other contribution needed.

 

In years to come, they would argue about who had contributed what that seminal night.

 

Paul would say he had most of the song written before he even visited Kenwood. John would say, “Of course there isn’t a line of theirs [Ringo’s, George’s and Pete’s] in the song because I finally went off into a room with Paul, and we finished the song [11].” Pete would continue to insist that McKenzie was entirely his, but others would deny it vehemently. The Beatles would forget the night they came together as the cleft widened to a split, and they would go their separate ways.

 

In the summer of 1966, The Beatles lived in a dream, but it wasn’t always a pleasant one. And that night, when they all said, “T’rah” and motored away, John stood at the window, wearing a face that seemed content, yet was anything but. Dousing the light and trudging upstairs did he hum, “All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong?”

 

It’s possible that he did. And the fissure ran.


1. Rodriguez, Robert. Revolver: How The Beatles Re-Imagined Rock’n’Roll, 132.

2. Of course, Paul famously stated that “Got to Get You Into My Life” was a sly reference to his new fascination with marijuana, but like all Beatles’ songs, “there’s more here than meets the eye.” We’ll discuss the complex levels of meaning in this song soon!

3. Guesdon, Jean-Michel and Phillipe Margotin, All the Songs: The Story Behind Every Beatles Release, 326.

4. Shotton, Pete, John Lennon: In My Life, 123. Note that Guesdon and Margotin state the Mal Evans and Neil Aspinall were also there. Pete does not include them in his account of the evening.

5. Shotton, 123.

6. Shotton, 123.

7. Shotton, 123 and Rodriguez, 82. Pete says that he was the one consulting the phone book. Rodriguez tells us that Paul was the one consulting the phone book. In any event, a phone book was consulted and the group conferred on last names.

8. Guesdon, Jean-Michel and Phillipe Margotin, All the Songs: The Story Behind Every Beatles Release, 326. This information was gleaned from David Sheff’s Playboy Interviews with John and Yoko.

9. Shotton, 123.

10. Pete’s contribution might have been quite significant indeed. We are told in Rodriguez’s book that “It was Shotton that came up with the key development of having these two lonely people cross paths, only in death.” (p. 82)

11. Sheff, The Playboy Interviews.


Jude Southerland Kessler is the author of the John Lennon Series: www.johnlennonseries.com

 

Jude is represented by 910 Public Relations — @910PubRel on Twitter and 910 Public Relations on Facebook.

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Fifty Years of Beatleness!

By Candy Leonard, author of Beatleness: How the Beatles and Their Fans Remade the World
 
With the exception of the great visionary Brian Epstein, no one would have predicted that we’d still be listening to and celebrating the Beatles in the 21st century. Across three generations and across the universe, their music continues to bring joy and happiness to millions.
 
Their story continues to fascinate and inspire people of all ages. The Gratitude Wall at the Fests are filled with heartfelt expressions of appreciation for the Beatles being there at life’s most difficult and most joyous moments.
 
When I was working on my book, Beatleness, I realized that there was no word to describe this amazing, complicated, fifty-year, multigenerational, cross-cultural phenomenon and how it makes people feel. I started calling it Beatleness, and it became the title of the book. It’s a way of describing the indescribable! Here are the three definitions of the word as they appear in the book.
 
Beatleness /bē-tl-nəs, bē-tl-nis/
noun
1. qualities or characteristics of the Beatles and their works; a manifestation of the essential qualities that define “the Beatles.”
2. an emotional or spiritual state, condition, or feeling resulting from exposure to or thinking about the Beatles and their works.
3. cultural references and artifacts, tangible and intangible, that evoke the Beatles; artistic or commercial use of words and images associated with the Beatles.
 
We asked you to use the word “Beatleness” in a sentence for a chance to win a copy of the book—and got close to 100 responses! Many of you talked about the Beatleness that was passed to you from your parents or the Beatleness you’re passing on to your children. Others talked about the positive messages of Beatleness. It’s a useful word – let’s keep using it in 2015!
 
Below are the Top Ten responses…
 
James F. Opalecky – If there were more BEATLENESS in the world, we would live in peace and harmony, feeling love for each other! ‬‬
 
Leslie Smith – The apex of Beatleness in my life was seeing Paul McCartney for the first time with my dad. We laughed, sang and cried together. It was a moment of pure music, love, and Beatleness that I hold dear now that my dad is gone.
 
Jennie Ann Hampton – I look at each and every person as an individual regardless of their race, religion or nationality. And I do feel that the Beatleness in my heart is partially responsible.
 
Debra Wallace Karina – Beatleness had entered my soul when I was young and will be with me every day for my entire life. I have shared it with my children !
 
Roger Yee – The world would be a much better place if more “Beatleness” existed.‬‬
 
Dan Vance – I’ve been a Beatle fan since I was a kid living in Europe. I worked hard to impress my kids with Beatleness since they were little kids, and I do believe it worked!!!
 
Marlene Reiter Yuzik – I have always had Beatleness in my life. Ever since I was 10 years old and saw them on Ed Sullivan. I have brought up my three children with Beatleness!!
 
Donna Bornemann – My best Beatleness moment – I had tickets to see Paul 1976 and went into labor so missed the concert and had a beautiful baby girl‬‬
 
Oscar Mayer – The Beatleness was all around and us and still has us under it’s power!‬‬
 
Briana Herzog – My Beatleness is obvious because I named my son Lennon!!!
 
And the winner is……James Opalecky!
 
Congrats, James. And thanks to all who entered!

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Live Rubber Soul

With today being the 49th anniversary of the release of Rubber Soul in the UK, we’ve put together “Live Rubber Soul” – the nine Rubber Soul tracks that have been performed live either by the Beatles or solo Beatles.
 
The Beatles’ decision to retreat full time into the studio after their concert at Candlestick Park in 1966 was a deliberate one. However, as we all know, the group was churning out songs that were either impossible to play live or nearly impossible to duplicate live well before late-1966.
 
Of the 14 tracks on Rubber Soul, nine have been performed live. Two of the songs were regulars on the Beatles’ set list during their final US tour, five have been performed live by Paul McCartney (solo), one was performed live by George Harrison, and one has been performed live by Ringo Starr (solo).
 
The songs on Rubber Soul that have never been performed in concert by the Beatles or solo Beatles: Norwegian Wood, Think For Yourself, Girl, Wait, and Run For Your Life.
 
Drive My Car (Paul McCartney solo)

 
You Won’t See Me (Paul McCartney Solo — first time since 1965 on record)

 
Nowhere Man (at the Circus Krone)

 
The Word (Paul McCartney Solo — first time since 1965 on record)

 
Michelle (Paul McCartney Solo)

 
What Goes On (Ringo Starr Solo)

 
I’m Looking Through You (Paul McCartney Solo)

 
In My Life (George Harrison Solo in 1974)

 
If I Needed Someone (Live in Japan)

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On “Now And Then,” Which Was Nearly the Third Beatles Reunion Track


 
By Danny Abriano
 
All hardcore Beatles fans know that Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr reunited in 1994 and 1995 to record “Free As A Bird” and “Real Love” for release on the upcoming Anthology 1 and Anthology 2 albums respectively.
 
What some may not know, is that there was another John Lennon demo the three living Beatles were planning to record for release on Anthology 3.
 
That demo was “Now And Then.”
 
Originally recorded by Lennon at the Dakota in 1979, Now And Then (along with the other Lennon demos) was given to Paul McCartney by Yoko Ono in January of 1994.
 
On March 20th, 1995, McCartney, Harrison, and Starr began working on Now And Then, recording a backing track that was to be used on what would’ve been the finished product. However, after one more day of working on the track, all plans to finish “Now And Then” and have it included on Anthology 3 were scrapped.
 
According to those who were there, there were two reasons why Paul, George, and Ringo stopped working on Now And Then.
 
The first, was that some of the verses and part of the chorus weren’t finished and/or were unintelligible on the demo. Paul, George, and Ringo would’ve had to finish writing those parts for John, which is something Paul later stated George “didn’t want to do.” The original lyrics by John are as follows:
 
I know it’s true, it’s all because of you
And if I make it through, it’s all because of you
And now and then, if we must start again
We will know for sure, that I love you
 
I don’t want to lose you – oh no, no, no
Lose you or abuse you – oh no, no, no, sweet darl’
But if you have to go, away
If you have to go (unintelligible)
 
Now and then, I miss you
Oh now and then, I (unintelligible)
I know return to me
 
I know it’s true, it’s all because of you
And if you go away, I know you (unintelligible)
 
I don’t want to lose you – oh no, no, no
Abuse you or confuse you – oh no, no, no, sweet darl’
But if you had to go
Well I won’t stop you babe
And if you had to go
Well (unintelligible)
 
As can be seen above, there are four spots where John Lennon’s words either trail off, are unintelligible, or both. Those are the verses the remaining Beatles would’ve had to have re-written.
 
The second issue with the track was that the quality of the original Lennon demo contained a technical problem – a humming noise that lingered on the tape throughout.
 
In a bootleg that was released in 2009, the humming noise from the original Lennon demo was removed, meaning that the song could potentially be finished by McCartney and Starr if they so choose.
 
In 2012, McCartney was quoted as saying he would be open to completing Now And Then with Jeff Lynne as the producer.
 
Perhaps the song will eventually be finished by Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr (also utilizing the backing track that includes George Harrison) and released. Until then, you can listen to John Lennon’s demo and imagine what the finished product might sound like:
 

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