Saturday, December 11, 2010

1962, June 11



(above) onstage at the Playhouse Theatre this night

Flush with a Parlophone record contract, and having wowed ‘em once before (1962, March 7), The Beatles had no trouble in securing this second appearance on Teenager's Turn - Here We Go (again at the Playhouse Theatre in Manchester, and again with Ray Peters hosting), nor with getting enthusiastic fans to fill the audience, as the faithful lined up to order tickets through the Beatles Fan Club.

According to Lewisohn, the lads didn’t play “Love Me Do” or “P.S. I Love You” this night because they expected these two songs to be released as a debut single in July 1962. This may be, but certainly their hopes were dashed by their August 3 show in Grafton, for which a set-list, in Paul’s handwriting, included both songs1. The question is, once The Beatles knew that no single was forthcoming, did they reinstate the two songs to their set-list as a way to improve them for their next scheduled (September 4) recording session? It would seem likely, since on June 6 the arrangement for “Love Me Do” (at least) had been changed by George Martin (the suggestion being made that Paul move to the vocal for the “love me do-oo” hook while John concentrated on harmonica), and perhaps John or Paul felt a bit bashful about “practicing” on national television. “P.S. I Love You” may have been raw as well, but at least “Ask Me Why” was polished, since it was written in 1960 or before (1960, April circa).

This show aired June 15, at 5pm. It is the last known recording of Pete Best with The Beatles. In fact, after the show, the ensuing excitement in the streets of Manchester found Pete accidentally left behind, a grim omen.

The fact that “Love Me Do” and “P.S. I Love You” were played at Grafton on August 3 also negates any idea that The Beatles were waiting to spotlight these songs without Pete Best, since Pete did not get the boot until August 15. Yes, the others had been contemplating Pete’s removal for some time, but on June 11 they were not much further advanced in this idea, George Martin’s declaration in this direction not yet communicated.

1 Lewisohn, The Beatles Live!, p.113

(general refs: Winn, Way Beyond Compare; Lewisohn, Chronicles)
_______________________________________________________________________

TRACKS:

“ASK ME WHY” (w. 6-second intro)
“BESAME MUCHO” (Velazquez) (w. 7-second intro)
“A PICTURE OF YOU” (Brown) (w. 11-second outro)
_______________________________________________________________________

AUDIO: Purple Chick's The Complete BBC Sessions - Upgraded for 2004, Disc 1 provides the cleanest, most complete, and speed-checked tracks. The bases for these tracks were "unbooted upgrades." Note that the FLAC version of the disc makes each intro to each song a separate track (6 tracks for 3 songs), while the mp3 version attaches each intro to its corresponding song (3 tracks for 3 songs).

Most of Great Dane's release runs too slow. You can find a comprehensive history of The Beatles' BBC bootleg releases: here.

VIDEO: None.

PHOTOS & INFORMATION: here.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tom Wise
gengar843@msn.com

Although I use quotes from sources, or cited fact, much of the material on this and other pages of my blog is original, from my own pen. This is not cut-and-paste, it is a work of art. Copyright © 2010 Tom Wise.

1962, February 10




Sometime in February of 1962, The Beatles received their Decca rejection slip. In the meantime, with the aid of Brian Epstein and their burgeoning popularity, The Beatles continued playing the club scene.

An audience member filmed one of these gigs, on color stock without sound.
The hand-cranked film was rediscovered years later (1973 or 1974), and auctioned at Sotheby's in September 1996.


It has been supposed by good deduction that this film dates from February 10, at St. Paul's Presbyterian Church Youth Club, Tranmere, Birkenhead. See that deduction:
here (also at this webpage, you can view the footage in various forms), and here. Since this is not 100%, there are other proposals, such as February 20 at Floral Hall, Southport, or even February 14, 1961 at the Cas(s)anova Club, Liverpool. See that latter guess here: here.

(ref:
Winn, Way Beyond Compare)

_______________________________________________________________________

AUDIO: None.

VIDEO: Approximately 30 seconds of footage was shown in three 10-second segments on the 2004 PBS documentary Best of the Beatles, subsequently released on DVD. It was also shown in 1996 on various TV "tabloid" shows such as Extra. Some say the song being performed is "Kansas City." Others say the footage comprises two songs.

TOURISM: St. Paul's Church hall is (or was) located on North Road, Tranmere, Birkenhead.

Floral Hall still stands. See a photo: here.

Cas(s)anova Club, Liverpool. Try to find a photo: here.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tom Wise
gengar843@msn.com

Although I use quotes from sources, or cited fact, much of the material on this and other pages of my blog is original, from my own pen. This is not cut-and-paste, it is a work of art. Copyright © 2010 Tom Wise.


1962, January 1




(Above) Brian Epstein at the Cavern ca. 1962 (photo: David Steen)

In October of 1961, The Beatles were at the crossroads, between hope for a workmanlike future as touring musicians and desperation in the realization that they were several years in and not much closer to their goal. They were pleased that the Tony Sheridan session had gone well, but were well aware that Polydor was not going to place their music in the shops unless some excitement was generated.

That excitement came in the form of Brian Epstein, who was searching for something also. Brian desired to elevate himself from merely being the manager of a Liverpool record shop (even if he was to own it one day), and The Beatles provided the perfect fit: a very popular local act with a recent record release, but one which the knowledgeable proprietor did not personally know*. Seeking them out, he found them even more intriguing: leather-clad rockers with high intelligence, wit, talent, and sex appeal. Brian thus began a vigorous campaign to get them signed. The Beatles were likewise impressed with Epstein, a cut above their usual booking agent, well-spoken and sincere, who also happened to run the NEMS record store where their records might sell. As a consequence of this energy,
Brian Epstein became manager of The Beatles on December 10, 1961, about one month after meeting them.

* See my separate article (webpage), "How Brian Epstein Met the Beatles"

Brian’s first action was to secure some publicity for the Liverpool beat scene. For some reason, the London music papers, and even the local Liverpool dailies and weeklies, had been generally ignoring Merseybeat. The Liverpool Echo, however, printed a pop music column by “Disker,” who Brian believed might be sympathetic. After writing a letter to Disker, hoping to solicit a favorable mention for The Beatles, Brian received a reply, not from the Echo but from Decca Records. “Disker” turned out to be one Tony Barrow, a London-based Liverpudlian who was also a sleeve-writer for Decca Records. Brian traveled to London to meet with Barrow, and played for him a scratchy acetate of a Beatles performance from the Cavern Club. Barrow was not impressed. Neither did Barrow feel able to accommodate a blurb in the Echo. Still, Barrow had a gut feeling.

After Brian left, Barrow placed a few calls around Decca, one strategically to the sales department which, as Barrow expected, contacted the A&R department to say that it would be a tactful move to allow The Beatles an audition, especially that NEMS was such a wonderful outlet for Decca product. Dick Rowe, head of A&R, agreed that it was in the company’s best interests to humor this great client. Thus, on December 13, 1961, Rowe sent Mike Smith, his young assistant, to see The Beatles in performance at The Cavern.
Suitably impressed with that encounter, Smith made arrangements with his London office for a proper audition on New Year’s Day, 1962.


On January 1, Brian was already at the studio when The Beatles arrived, some trouble having preceded.
At 11:00 am, the appointment time came and passed without Mike Smith’s arrival, much to everyone’s resentment. Smith finally came late, haggard from the previous night’s partying, and insisted that The Beatles use Decca’s equipment, which added to the bad mood, as the boys had gone to the trouble of bringing their own gear (to Smith’s defense, the Beatles’ equipment was quite shoddy).
By all accounts, the band was nervous, even jumpy. Besides the aforementioned snags, The Beatles found out that Brian Poole and the Tremeloes were scheduled to be auditioned directly after them. On the line was a recording contract. Despite these jitters, 15 songs were recorded during a session that lasted probably two hours. How did The Beatles do? The consensus among historians is that the group sounded "ragged and tentative, at times with a sloppiness that verged on the unprofessional." Tempos were off and vocals wavered. John has been quoted: "We were all excited, you know, Decca and all that. So we went down, and we met this Mike Smith guy, and we did all these numbers and we were terrified and nervous. You can hear it on the bootlegs. It starts off terrifying and gradually settles down. We were still together musically. You can hear it's primitive, you know, and it isn't recorded that well, but the power's there." At first, Brian imagined they’d done quite well, and received no sign that they hadn’t. They celebrated with dinner in London that night. Expecting the best, they returned to Liverpool and resumed their schedule. Tony Barrow's column for January 27, 1962 even declared that "Mike Smith tells me that he thinks The Beatles are great." In early February, 1962, they received the devastating news that Decca had turned down The Beatles. John later said: "We found out that we hadn't been accepted. We really thought that was it. We thought that was the end."

Given Mike Smith’s enthusiasm, the rejection seemed odd. The Beatles were told they “sounded too much like The Shadows” and “guitar groups are on the way out.” Brian didn’t like the taste of this, and he traveled to London to meet Dick Rowe. There, he was greeted with a kindly rejection and a patronizing request that he stick to the retail end of records. Brian exploded, exclaiming that The Beatles would be bigger than Elvis, an outburst which wasn’t a surprise to the jaded Decca executives. Naturally, Decca was blowing smoke. The Beatles were nothing like The Shadows, and Decca actually chose The Tremeloes, a guitar group, for the prized recording contract. The lads were rejected not truly for ineptitude or perceived obsolescence, but for financial reasons and convenience. In short, Decca lied.
Subsequently, Mike Smith said that he (naturally) bitterly regretted missing the chance to sign The Beatles. Dick Rowe reportedly denied even making his infamous statement. Some mythologies surround the recording session. One is that John blew it by yelling anti-Semitic and other slurs at Brian Epstein, in front of Mike Smith. Another is that Brian ruined their chances by insisting on a particular choice of songs. These may fairly be dismissed. Less fantastic is that Brian, after the rejection, offered to buy 3000 copies of The Beatles’ first single from Decca if they would sign the band. Rowe claimed that if Brian had made this offer he would have been not only willing but literally forced to sign the Beatles. Although it appears that Decca made a foolish move, many historians have stated that the Fab Four were not so fab nor deserving of a contract, as much as they might have desired it. Paul said: "Listening to the tapes, I can understand why we failed the Decca audition. We weren't that good; though there were some quite interesting and original things."

On the same day he was rejected in person by Dick Rowe, Brian shopped The Beatles to the Pye and Oriole record labels in London, meeting with rejection there also. By no small coincidence
, he entered the HMV record shop on Oxford Street, owned by Bob Boast, whom Brian knew. Boast was in no position to help Brian, but suggested it might be easier and better to transfer the tapes to vinyl discs. Brian was led to a small studio on the first floor where 78 rpm records were cut. As engineer Jim Foy was making these discs, he told Epstein he liked what he heard. Brian, cheered, told Foy that three of the songs were originals, whereupon Foy directed him to Sid Coleman (who ran the music publishing subsidiary of EMI, Ardmore & Beechwood, on the top floor of HMV) to give the tapes a listen. Coleman offered a publishing deal, but Brian declined, seeking instead a recording contract. Coleman called George Martin, head of A&R at Parlophone, another subsidiary of EMI. This led to a meeting between Brian and Martin, which in turn led to the Parlophone audition in June of that year. The rejection by Decca was thus the best thing for the Beatles. Mike Smith later stated that wouldn’t have worked with the band the way George Martin did, and would have retained Pete Best.

Interestingly, George Harrison was instrumental in recommending to Dick Rowe a little group called the Rolling Stones, who signed with Decca in 1963. In another twist,
Pete Best, after leaving The Beatles, was signed by Decca as part of his next group, Lee Curtis and the All-Stars.

Between 1976 and 1978 (or 1979, depending who you ask), fourteen of the 15 songs from the audition tape were distributed via a series of colored-vinyl bootleg singles (Deccagone label), issued by Beatles fan magazine (Strawberry Fields Forever) publisher, Joe Pope. I recently discovered that Pope obtained a reel-to-reel of the production master, and recorded the 45's straight from this reel. In 1978, Pope issued an LP, The Deccagones, which collected the 14 singles cuts plus "Take Good Care of My Baby." Also in 1978, Audiofon, under the label Circuit Records, produced the LP The Decca Tapes, claiming this to be from original Decca tapes recently sold at auction. However, this has been disputed if not refuted, for another source asserts that Audiofon received only a "manipulated" copy of Pope's tape. By the early 1980's, the Decca tapes had been used to produce a few quasi-legal albums (ownership of the tapes not yet legally ascertained), such as Dawn of the Silver Beatles (PAR Records) and Silver Beatles - Like Dreamers Do (Backstage Records), which were actually sold in legitimate record shops. In 1988, Apple began to fight this grey-market activity beginning, but by that time the digital age had begun and the flow from the underground was unstoppable.

(ref: Winn, Way Beyond Compare; Lewisohn, Chronicles; Unterberger, Unreleased Beatles Music and Film; The Beatles Anthology;
Berkenstadt and Belmo, Black Market Beatles; Sulpy, Complete Beatles Audio Guide)

_______________________________________________________________________

THE TRACKS:


"LIKE DREAMERS DO
" (Lennon/McCartney) (actually, Paul)
"MONEY (That's What I Want)" (Barrett Strong)
"TILL THERE WAS YOU" (Meredith Wilson) (from the musical The Music Man)
"THE SHEIK OF ARABY" (Smith/Wheeler/Snyder)
"TO KNOW HER IS TO LOVE HER" (Phil Spector, adapted)
"TAKE GOOD CARE OF MY BABY" (Goffin/King)
"MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE" (Chuck Berry)
"SURE TO FALL (In Love With You)" (Cantrell/Claunch/Perkins)
"HELLO LITTLE GIRL" (Lennon/McCartney) (actually, John)
"THREE COOL CATS" (Leiber/Stoller)
"CRYING, WAITING, HOPING" (Buddy Holly)
"LOVE OF THE LOVED" (Lennon/McCartney) (actually, Paul)
"SEPTEMBER IN THE RAIN" (Warren/Dubin)
"BESAME MUCHO" (Velazquez)
"SEARCHIN" (Leiber/Stoller)

_______________________________________________________________________

AUDIO

A Theory. From the jump, I've always believed "Sheik of Araby" to have overdubs on those two moments when a voice shockingly sings along in a nasal English twit voice. Furthermore, I think it's John using that voice. To me, this invokes an image of John playing at home in New York while being a househusband, in his spare time making an overdub tape of funny noises from his copy of the Decca tape (or acetate from it). Farfetch'd? Possibly. But how and from whom did Joe Pope get his reel? And who else could that be fumfing around on "Sheik of Araby"?

Speed and Other Issues. Joe Pope's 45's were in Mono, dry, and at about the right speed. The Audiofon LP turned out to be Mock-Stereo, processed, and too fast (not too slow, as often reported). Even worse, as the market became flooded with reissues of Pope's tape, liberties were taken, such as removing moments of studio chatter and noise after the song proper was ended, history erased as it were. And, of course, the usual mis-tracking, vinyl pops, and label errors, not to mention incomplete collections. But, in recent years, most if not all of these issues have been resolved.

Recommendations. Here's where we stand:

Both Sulpy and Winn gave a recommendation to March 5, 1963 Plus The Decca Tape (Vigotone) for the bulk of the recordings, Anthology 1 for "Like Dreamers Do" and "Three Cool Cats," and The Ultimate Collection Vol. 1 (Yellow Dog) for "Searchin." This list is now obsolete.

Dr. Ebbetts' New Years Day (2001) brought to the table better mastering, and his improvement The Decca Audition (ca 2008) found him recording 14 of the 15 songs from Joe Pope's original singles, which also provided the full endings for each song.

In the meantime, Purple Chick produced I Hope We Passed the Audition, which collected the best-sounding masters (in their opinion). The accompanying documentation states that they lost the original construction notes for their collection, but endeavored to reconstruct the information from memory. Some of that information may be incorrect, but it is nonetheless a fascinating potpourri of sources, including endings edited in from the Deccagone singles.

I recently went back and listened to a variety of sources, including March 5, 1963 Plus the Decca Tape (Australian copy), I Hope We Passed the Audition (PC FLAC), Anthology 1 (CD), The Decca Audition (TOCP-6211 Japanese CD 2009), a 2010 fan remaster from TheOneBeatle, The Deccagone Sessions vinyl from 1977, and The Decca Tapes vinyl (Circuit 1979).

Here are the winning results for each song:

Like Dreamers Do. Anthology 1. Purple Chick is a straight copy. About the best tape we're likely to hear, and a complete ending.

Money. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from March 5, 1963. Includes a hair more drift after the final bass swoop, edited in from The Deccagones LP (not to be confused with The Deccagone Sessions LP). The Japanese 2009 remaster is less bright, so I like it also. And take a listen to TheOneBeatle's remaster, which dries out the track so that the vocals swell.

To Know Her is to Love Her. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from March 5, 1963. Includes a couple of seconds more at the end, with a guitar note and some odd hollow noise (cool!) edited in from The Deccagones.

Memphis. March 5, 1963. Purple Chick is a straight copy.

Till There Was You. New Years Day. Purple Chick is a straight copy. This is very full. Interestingly, channel inversion makes a nice Mock-Stereo.

Sure to Fall. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from New Years Day. Supposedly some extra noise, edited in from The Deccagones, but I don't hear it. A small step up from March 5, 1963, not really changing the dynamics, but minimizing (not killing) the buzz. Right on the cusp of taking the prize is the Japanese 2009 Remaster, with just enough highs taken off to eliminate the buzz completely without making things muddy. Channel duplication solution for a little bit of electronic imbalance present, and you're good to go.

Besame Mucho. March 5, 1963. I'll go against the grain here, and say this is slightly better than New Year's Day, though it does have a slight wrinkle trying to catch a buzz from the highs. Close behind is I Hope We Passed the Audition, taken from New Years Day, which is just missing that extra bit of necessary high frequency.

Love of the Loved. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from New Years Day. Includes a touch more noise at the end, edited in from The Deccagones. Gained a tad high, but not to distortion.

Hello Little Girl. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from Anthology 1, which is absolutely the right choice (a nice sound). Supposedly some extra noise edited in from The Deccagones, but I don't hear it. A slight imbalance in Anthology's track was fixed here. A close second is the Japanese 2009 remaster. Though gained hot, nearing a little distortion, I think this track benefits. I'm not willing to call it best, but it's very good.

Three Cool Cats. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from Anthology 1. Excellent sound, and a complete ending.

September in the Rain. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from New Years Day. Includes the full ending, edited in from The Deccagones.

Take Good Care of My Baby. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from New Years Day. Includes the full ending, edited in from The Deccagones. Japanese 2009 remaster had an edgier sound, possibly from the gain or a little less mid-range, and could be called best here.

Crying Waiting Hoping. I Hope We Passed the Audition. Taken from New Years Day. Includes the full ending, edited in from The Deccagones. Not much different than March 5, 1963. The Japanese 2009 remaster's excess gain gives this track a rough edge I liked.

Sheik of Araby. Anthology 1 . Purple Chick is a straight copy. Very nice, and a complete ending. The Japanese 2009 remaster sounded identical to me.

Searchin'. I Hope We Passed the Audition. The story here is a little strange. Speed-corrected on The Ultimate Collection Vol. 1, it was nevertheless an inferior mastering job. Vigotone upped that ante for March 5, 1963, but lost quality control when an unnoticed glitch ruined their work. When Anthology 1 was released (from a different source tape), the glitch was naturally absent, but the start of this track included a voice-over. Purple Chick took the best of the Anthology and March 5, 1963 tracks, and edited from them a new and better master.

NOTES.

(1) March 5, 1963, good for its time, it actually quite uneven. In general, it's too bright, and this is especially noticeable on "Like Dreamers Do" and "Till There Was You." Some of the songs (such as "September in the Rain") are missing full endings.

(2) The 2009 Japanese Remaster is erratic, and gained very hot, causing distortion. The EQ is also a little off, sounding muted much of the time. One of the interesting positives to this CD is that the endings to all the songs are kept at normalized volume, so you can hear every bit without knob-fiddling.

(3) I hate to be a party crasher, but in the main the remaster by TheOneBeatle is muddy, like hearing the music through blankets. There are also new buzzes where none existed. The one bright spot is "Money."

(4) As previously noted, The Decca Tapes vinyl runs fast and is Mock-Stereo, so I haven't considered them for anything but reference.

(5) The Deccagone Sessions vinyl is now clearly not in the running for anything.

(6) However, I think the Joe Pope colored-vinyl singles are worth obtaining, if you can.

(7) Results pending for Ebbetts' The Decca Audition

ACETATES

Some of the tracks were cut to disc, possibly by Decca. One for "Like Dreamers Do" can be viewed: here. Apparently, Dick James also believed "Like Dreamers Do" to have the most potential, as he pressed a demo acetate on his private label, viewable: here.

PICTURE SLEEVES

A visual collection of the Deccagone picture sleeves is: here.

_______________________________________________________________________

VIDEO: None.

DRAMATIZATION: Brian's first encounter with The Beatles, as well as the Decca audition and Brian's confrontation with Dick Rowe, is depicted in the film Birth of the Beatles. Just so you know, when Brian first comes down the Cavern stairway, The "Beatles" are playing "Cry For a Shadow."

TOURISM: The Cavern Club Wikipedia page is: here.

The offices of The Liverpool Echo are at Post & Echo Building, Old Hall Street, Liverpool.

NEMS (North End Music Stores) comprised two shops at 12/14 Whitechapel and 50/52 Great Charlotte St, in Liverpool. The latter was Brian's domain. Both are closed. A very interesting webpage (and website), with photos, is: here.

Decca Studio, London. You can see the Decca audition location, read the Tony Barrow article from January 27, 1962, and hear many of the Beatles' audition tracks: here.

HMV, originally at 363 Oxford St, London, moved, but a plaque was erected at the original site. More on this building: here.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tom Wise
gengar843@msn.com

Although I use quotes from sources, or cited fact, much of the material on this and other pages of my blog is original, from my own pen. This is not cut-and-paste, it is a work of art. Copyright © 2010 Tom Wise.


Wednesday, December 1, 2010

1962, September 11: Back-Story



(above) drummer Andy White

Surprise!

There can be no doubt that George Martin was displeased with Ringo’s drumming at the previous recording session, September 4, for not only were The Beatles expected to re-record “Love Me Do” but, when they arrived to the studio this day, September 11, session drummer Andy White was in attendance, ready to roll. The other three Beatles were not shocked and put up no resistance, for George Martin had taken them aside previously to tell them that he “would like to bring in another drummer for this record”1. There are a few theories concerning why Martin felt uneasy enough to bring in Andy White. First, he hadn’t asked The Beatles to let Pete Best go; that was their decision. It may be that Martin, not at all familiar with Ringo, felt that The Beatles had acted rashly, replacing one inferior cog for another. Second, Ringo was unfamiliar with the material, having joined the group for good just weeks earlier. That tentativeness was likely evident. Third, Ringo had been drumming strangely on September 4. As Ringo said, “I was playing the bass drum with a maraca in one hand and a tambourine in the other. I think it's because of that that George Martin used Andy White”1. Fourth, Ringo had not made a favorable impression with his talent. Paul said, “Ringo at that point was not that steady on time”1. Martin told Hunter Davies in 1968, “He couldn’t do a roll – and still can’t – though he’s improved a lot”2.

Whatever the reason, The Beatles had put themselves in this position. Having petitioned George Martin for “Love Me Do” to be their first single (and triumphing over Mitch Murray’s “How Do You Do It”), they were tacitly (if not literally) obliged to adhere to George Martin’s authority all the more. Thus, when Martin told the boys that Andy White would be waiting for them this day, it was understood that Ringo would have to suffer the ignominy to stand aside. Ringo told Davies quite naively, “Nobody said anything” because “we were just lads being pushed around”3. Not quite. George Martin was actually absent for most of this session (Ron Richards took charge), but this was not a sign that he was uninterested or hiding out, only that all was in order as planned.

Ringo also attested that he was “devastated” and “I thought, they’re doing a Pete Best on me”3. But even this should not bring much sympathy for Ringo, for he ended up making the negative into a positive, taking Andy White’s appearance as a challenge, not a slap in the face; a classic case of manning-up.

1 The Beatles Anthology, p.76

2 The Beatles, p.162

3 The Beatles, p.163

_______________________________________________________________________

RECORDING AND MIXING

“P.S. I Love You” was recorded first, using ten takes. As Andy White kept an adequate beat, Ringo joined in on the maracas. Paul had composed “P.S. I Love You” in April or May 19621, during a Beatles Hamburg trip. John said, “That’s Paul’s song. He wrote that in Germany, or when we were going to and from Hamburg”2. The key question here is, did Paul write this song around the time of Stu Sutcliffe’s death (April 10), or around the time they put down basic tracks for “Sweet Georgia Brown” (May 24)? Like “Love Me Do,” this song was probably written for a Beatle girl, namely Dorothy “Dot” Rhone, Paul’s Liverpool squeeze. Rhone’s own words on the subject are: here. Paul, however, responded that “P.S. I Love You” was “not based in reality, nor did I write it to my girlfriend from Hamburg, which some people think”3, and John said that “he was trying to write a ‘Soldier Boy,’ like The Shirelles”2, a big hit for the girl band in April and May 1962. I leave it for the reader to decide.

“Love Me Do” followed, taking 18 takes. This time, Ringo grabbed a tambourine.

George Martin showed up to the studio as the boys began recording “Please Please Me.” This song had been rehearsed on September 4, 1962, but Martin at that time thought the Roy Orbison-style tempo too slow. On September 11, Andy White played drums while The Beatles tried to work out the kinks to this song, but scheduled time ran out before much progress was made.

At session's end, Mono mixes were done for all three songs, and taped to EMI reel E47852 (see John Barrett’s note: here). Although some references claim that acetates were made, I can find no evidence for this.

No Stereo mixes were made. Instead, Mock-Stereo mixes for “Love Me Do” and “P.S. I Love You” were created on February 25, 1963, on EMI reel E48979 (see John Barrett’s note: here), indicating that the twin-track master tapes were already destroyed (per EMI protocol of that time).

1 Dowlding, Beatlesongs, p.34

2 Sheff, All We Are Saying, p.168

3 Miles, Many Years From Now, p.38

_______________________________________________________________________

RELEASES

“Love Me Do” with Andy White (“Version 2”) was first released on the Please Please Me LP, March 22, 1963, but George Martin decided to release the earlier recording (“Ringo Version”) on The Beatles’ premier single, October 5, 1962. Regarding this, no clear explanation has been given. The common idea is that Martin wanted to “make it up” to Ringo, but this makes no sense. For if Martin thought so little of the “Ringo Version” as to bring in Andy White, and thought so well of the Andy White version as to make it the candidate for the debut LP (and a later “Rechanneled Stereo” remix), it would seem self-defeating that he should choose the “inferior” (Ringo) version for the single which preceded the album (if at all). And if the argument is that Martin’s soft heart did this, that is, allowed for a sacrifice of quality to mollify Ringo’s consternation, this not only questions the producer’s judgment, but also makes Martin’s relationship with Ringo (who he only met a week prior) or with the other Beatles (with whom he had only a bit more affection) to be exaggerated for the sake of the reasoning. A better explanation is that Martin merely changed his mind. That is, after bringing in Andy White to improve on Ringo, Martin found that he preferred the Ringo Version, and he used the opportunity to serve as a silent apology (an olive branch, so to speak). What did Martin like about the Ringo Version? One theory is that John’s harmonica was so much better thereon that Martin felt compelled to issue it; and perhaps, after satisfying his desire to allow John his perfect moment on vinyl, and having “repented” for bringing in Andy White, Martin thereafter felt released enough (spiritually, that is) to notice that Version 2 was best after all, the evidence being that the Ringo Version was not used again by Martin until a 1980 compilation called Rarities.

On April 27, 1964, “Love Me Do” (Version 2) and “P.S. I Love You” were released on a single in the US (Tollie 9008). The A-side reached #1 on May 30, 1964, and the B-side hit #10 on June 6.

_______________________________________________________________________

RELATIVES: Andy White is still active in music; visit his website: here. White lives in New Jersey; read a local article: here. A short interview with White: here.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tom Wise
gengar843@msn.com

Although I use quotes from sources, or cited fact, much of the material on this and other pages of my blog is original, from my own pen. This is not cut-and-paste, it is a work of art. Copyright © 2010 Tom Wise

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

How Brian Epstein Met the Beatles




(above) Raymond Jones

This article concerns two points. First, when did Brian Epstein discover the existence of The Beatles? Second, who is Raymond Jones?

Concerning the first point, it is almost certain that, well before October 28, 1961, the date that Raymond Jones legendarily came to Brian Epstein’s NEMS record shop in Whitechapel, Liverpool, inquiring on the availability of the “My Bonnie” single, Brian had already heard about The Beatles. This supposition is inextricably interwoven with the history of Mersey Beat, the biweekly Liverpool music newspaper, published by Bill Harry, that was dedicated to the local beat scene. The first issue of Mersey Beat contained an article by John Lennon, “Being a Short Diversion on the Dubious Origins of Beatles”1. The second issue featured The Beatles on the cover and, most importantly, a report on their recording session with Tony Sheridan in Germany2. Brian at this exact moment ordered 144 copies of Mersey Beat for his shop, and simultaneously began to write record reviews for that publication, beginning with issue #3 on August 3, 1961, a column entitled “Stop the World – And Listen to Everything In It: Brian Epstein of NEMS”3. Miles wrote, "Brian knew perfectly well who the Beatles were - they were on the front page of the second issue of Mersey Beat, the local music paper. Brian sold twelve dozen copies of this issue, so many that he invited the editor, Bill Harry, into his office for a drink to discuss why it was selling so well and to ask if he could write a record review column for it. He is unlikely to have missed the 'Beatles sign recording contract' banner headline, reporting their session with Tony Sheridan for Bert Kaempfert”4.

Concerning Raymond Jones, there are varying reports on this individual. Let us right off the bat, however, clear the air and say that Raymond Jones was an actual person who really did come to the NEMS record shop to request “My Bonnie”5. However, it would seem to be the case that Jones was enshrined in Brian’s book, A Cellarful of Noise, as a consequence of being memorable in Brian’s mind (for whatever reason) rather than being the first in line at NEMS to inquire after The Beatles6. And though Derek Taylor was ghost-writer for this book7, Brian actually interviewed Jones for that section8.

This brings us to a grave contradiction. For many, including Jones, and Brian in his own book, say that Brian knew nothing of The Beatles until that meeting with Jones, but, knowing the history of Mersey Beat, this seems highly unlikely9. The best extrication from this mess is to say that, sometime in the summer of 1961, Brian first heard about The Beatles when excited fans came to his shop to order a single that was being trumpeted in Mersey Beat #2. Having assured himself that such fans were anomalies, he failed to order “My Bonnie” for his inventory until Raymond Jones became the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back, that is, caused Brian to finally see in person this band which was making so many waves. For we can assume that mild-mannered and clean-cut Brian was not interested in the beat scene for its aesthetics, but only for its financial potential, and had no desire to be among the scruffy underbelly of club life until he believed that his future lay in that direction.

But, regarding any statements made by Alistair Taylor that he posed as “Raymond Jones” in order to further sales of Beatles records10, these are to be ignored as Taylor grasping at fifteen minutes (or years) of fame, an accusation with which Bob Wooler (who ought to know) concurred11.

Therefore, let us say that at 3pm (per Hunter Davies) on October 28, 1961, Raymond Jones, a 20-year-old printer’s apprentice from Huyton, and a country-and-western buff who Brian knew as an avid Carl Perkins fan12, requested “My Bonnie” from the NEMS record shop, and spurred a bored businessman to follow his destiny, for the rest of the story appears to be true; that is, Brian visited the Cavern on November 9, had his first business meeting with the band on December 3, and made the informal contract between them on December 10.

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1 Reported as early as 1968 by Davies, The Beatles, p.105. Mersey Beat article reprinted: here.

2 Fully supported by Bill Harry: here, viz., "The story of this record covered the entire front page of issue No. 2 of Mersey Beat on July 20 1961."

3 Reported as early as 1994 by Wiener, The Ultimate Recording Guide, pp.6-7. Wiener duly noted that not only must we expect Brian to have been aware of The Beatles by this time, but keenly aware due to his ties with Mersey Beat. Wiener added that Bill Harry claimed to have briefed Brian on The Beatles during the summer of 1961, and (citing Lewisohn, 1986) that Brian was selling tickets to Sam Leach’s Operation Big Beat (October 27), tickets which bore prominently the name of the headliner, The Beatles. Bill Harry discusses Brian's column: here, here, and here.

4 Many Years From Now, p.85

5 See August 2010 interview with Jones: here. Also, read Bill Harry’s confirmation: here, viz., "As it turns out, Raymond Jones does exist."

6 Supported by Bill Harry: here, viz., “He was just one of several people, including a lot of girls, who asked about the Beatles record in NEMS. There are probably people who came into NEMS asking for the record before Jones did, but their names either weren't taken down, or Brian just picked one of the names to include in his book.”

Quoted from A Cellarful of Noise: “Raymond Jones was one of any average dozen customers who called in daily for unknown discs and there seems now no valid reason why, beyond my normal efforts to satisfy a customer, I should have gone to such lengths to trace the actual recording artistes. But I did and I wonder sometimes whether there is not something mystically magnetic about the name 'Beatle'?... On October 28, Raymond Jones left the store after I had taken a note of his request. I wrote on a pad: ‘My Bonnie. The Beatles. Check on Monday.’”

7 Taylor made this known in Apple to the Core, McCabe & Schonfeld, p.38.

8 Raymond Jones interview: here, viz., “When the Beatles had had a couple of recording under their belt, Brian Epstein was telling his story in a national newspaper. I was livid when he described me in the article as a "scruffy" 18-year-old leather-jacketed youth. I wrote to NEMS to show him my disgust about his remark. In the letter I said not everyone wore suits and that some people had to work for a living. Shortly after that, someone from NEMS wrote to me and asked me to contact Mr. Epstein at his office, which at that time was in Moorfields off Dale Street. When I contacted him, he asked me to call to his office and said he would like to apologise in person. After his somewhat poor apology we both went to Rigby's pub in Dale Street and had a couple of drinks. He was asking me all sorts of questions and taking notes at the same time. He didn't say so but I think he must have been planning the book, A Cellarful Of Noise.”

9 Supported by Bill Harry: here, viz., “Because, in his autobiography A Cellarful of Noise, Epstein came up with the story about Raymond Jones coming into his shop on October 28 1961, this has caused a dilemma for writers trying to explain it. His reviews appeared months before the Raymond Jones incident... The Raymond Jones story is a good punchy 'anecdotal' tale to introduce the book. Yes, without Mersey Beat, Brian would probably have not known or become interested in the Beatles. Back to the dilemma of writers who always put the Jones story as if it was a fact. The only relevance to Raymond Jones in the Beatles story would be if it were true that Brian hadn't heard of the Beatles until the lad asked for the record. As this isn't the fact, what can writers do? They can ignore the factual Mersey Beat story outright or they can make out that although Brian wrote for Mersey Beat, although his NEMS adverts appeared on the same pages as major Beatles articles, he didn't actually read the paper or notice their photograph on the front covers, which is totally ridiculous.”

10 Taylor told The Beatles Book in 1997, “The truth is that we were being asked for ‘My Bonnie’ but no one actually ordered it. Brian would order any record once we had a firm order for it. I thought that we were losing sales and I wrote an order in the book under the name Raymond Jones; and, from that moment, the legend grew.”

11 Raymond Jones interview: here, particularly, “Bob (Wooler) and I were both disgusted with Taylor's claims.”

12 Shout!, pp.140

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Tom Wise
gengar843@msn.com

Although I use quotes from sources, or cited fact, much of the material on this and other pages of my blog is original, from my own pen. This is not cut-and-paste, it is a work of art. Copyright © 2010 Tom Wise.