www.gosanangelo.com Book chronicles Beatles' American tour Rick Bentley The Fresno Bee (MCT) Aug 29, 2014 Ivor Davis knows exactly where he was 50 years ago today—hanging out with The Beatles. As the West Coast bureau chief for the London Daily Express, Davis was assigned to cover the first U.S. tour by the Fab Four that started with a performance at the Cow Palace in San Francisco on Aug. 19, 1964 and ended Sept. 20, 1964 at the Paramount Theater in New York. From young women bargaining with him to get near John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison or Ringo Starr to the late night Monopoly games (where Lennon was known to cheat), Davis recounts his ticket to ride along with the band on that cross-country trek in his new book “The Beatles and Me On Tour” (Cockney Kid Publishing, $15.99). Davis never planned to write a book on the experience. “When you are a reporter on a daily paper, you do a story and then you forget about it. That’s what happened for years and years,” Davis says. “I didn’t think it was such a big deal, but I would go to a dinner party and people would find out that I toured with The Beatles and they wanted to talk about it.” In the book, he talks about the 34 days where he had unrestricted access to the lads from Liverpool. He was there when The Beatles couldn’t leave their hotel rooms because of the rabid fans outside. He watched when slot machines were placed in their rooms in Las Vegas because they couldn’t go into a casino without causing a riot. Davis was there when Bob Dylan introduced the band to pot. Davis also spent a lot of time ghostwriting for Harrison, who gave a first-person account of what was happening on tour for a newspaper column in the Express. Things started poorly because Davis had a noon deadline and Harrison often didn’t get out of bed until 3 p.m. “I made up the column the first week, and I wrote a lot of rubbish. Harrison finally told me that the column was (expletive deleted). I told him that if he woke up earlier and talked to me the column would get better. He did and the column did get better,” Davis says. The craziness started the moment The Beatles arrived in America. Davis recalls going to the Hilton Hotel and fighting his way through the mobs of fans who stayed outside all night. Because Davis had a British accent, he would get asked by fans to help get access to The Beatles. “The most I ever did was help a few people get autographs. But I never kept any autographs for myself,” Davis says. “I was 24 at the time and none of us had a sense of history about what The Beatles would become. None of them ever thought we would still be talking about them after 50 years.” After the tour, Davis returned to covering news and entertainment. Along with interviewing the likes of Cary Grant, Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, Tom Cruise and Muhammad Ali, Davis was in the Ambassador Hotel the night Robert Kennedy was assassinated. Today, Davis lives in Southern California and is working on two new books: one about movies and the other a true crime story. “The Beatles and Me On Tour” is available at www.amazon.com and at www.ivordavisbeatles.com . photos.dailynews.com PHOTOS: Ivor Davis has written a book “The Beatles and Me on Tour” Posted Aug 26, 2014 Longtime entertainment reporter Ivor Davis has written a book, "The Beatles and Me on Tour," about his adventures with the lads while he was covering their 1964 summer tour of America. Tuesday, August 26, 2014. (Photo by Michael Owen Baker/Los Angeles Daily News) Copy photo of George Harrison with Ivor Davis, from Davis' book, "The Beatles and Me on Tour." Tuesday, August 26, 2014. (Photo by Michael Owen Baker/Los Angeles Daily News) A framed and autographed Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band album in Ivor Davis' Ventura home. Davis has written a book, "The Beatles and Me on Tour," about his adventures with the lads while he was covering their 1964 summer tour of America. Tuesday, August 26, 2014. (Photo by Michael Owen Baker/Los Angeles Daily News) www.ivordavisbeatles.com Sample Chapter INTRODUCTION It was 1964, and I was the slightly wet-behind-the-ears, 25-year-old West Coast correspondent for one of Britain’s biggest newspapers, the London Daily Express—circulation four million daily. Based in Los Angeles, I had arrived only six months earlier and contracted with the paper’s foreign editor David English to cover, on a freelance basis, an assortment of major breaking news stories. I was the new cockney kid on the Beverly Hills block who was beginning to live his dream of being a real foreign correspondent. Except I wouldn’t be covering significant “serious” news like that of my hero, Edward R. Murrow. My job was to chronicle the vagaries of Hollywood, which ranged from the marriages of Elizabeth Taylor to the divorces of Marlon Brando and Cary Grant. My dogged reporting on actor Peter Sellers’ series of massive heart attacks after marrying the nubile 21-year-old Swedish starlet Britt Ekland, as well as my work on other assignments that dealt with other British-tinged showbiz shenanigans, impressed David and, after a time, he hired me full-time to be the Express’ man in Hollywood. So it was in mid-August 1964, when I received an unexpected call. English was on the line with my first big job: To cover, from start to finish, a hot, British rock ’n’ roll group making its first concert tour of North America. The Beatles had first set foot in America earlier in the year, with two live performances on the country’s most popular variety hour, The Ed Sullivan Show. Their first appearance, on February 9, had made them an instant sensation, drawing 74 million viewers and changing music history forever. Now I was to witness the repercussions unfold at a 24-city tour, staged over 34 days, to begin that very evening in San Francisco. But it was more than just a ticket to ride; I was to become, not just front row and center for every one of their sold-out concerts, but part of their entourage. The Beatles were in stretch limo Number 1, along with their manager Brian Epstein. I traveled in Number 2, along with press officer Derek Taylor, a reporter from a Liverpool daily newspaper and a writer from one of England’s top musical weeklies. We were flanked by wailing motorcycle escorts, whizzing through the hordes of hysterical fans. On the Beatles’ private jet, we flew from California to Canada, Montreal to Milwaukee, New Orleans to New York. I lived and ate with the boys. We had adjoining hotel rooms drank, kibitzed and played cards and Monopoly with them into the early hours of the morning, seamlessly integrated into their lives. In addition, I was given the job of ghostwriting a weekly newspaper column for the youngest Beatle, George Harrison. My access to them was unfettered—unheard of in today’s pop music world. The access didn’t end when they returned to their homes across the Pond. I was also alongside them part of the way the following summer, when they made their second U.S. tour. I was there when they popped pills and talked candidly about their passions and the things and people that they disliked; when they told war stories; when they moaned about the lousy sound systems and the crappy merchandise sold at stadiums, about their fear of flying and about how they coped with the revolving door of women of all shapes, sizes and ages that came calling. I was there the night when a scandal in Las Vegas threatened to derail their tour and when gorgeous Hollywood stars came knocking. I was a fly on the wall for their meet-and-greet with the King himself—Elvis Presley—and a wet towel away the night Bob Dylan introduced them to the joys of marijuana. This book is my very personal invitation to travel back to the Way They Were, my vivid recollection of life back then, when communication was so much simpler, when John Lennon called people “twits”—and twitter was something that only birds did. It’s my personal, inside tale of what happened on that first, weird and wonderful North American tour—of 34 manic and memorable days. It was 50 years ago today. And I was there. Gallery The book includes forty pictures from some of the world’s leading Beatles photographers Pillow fight. Photo: Harry Benson With Ed Sullivan. Photo: Express Newspapers Brits invade America. Photo: Express Newspapers The untalkative George with his ghostwriter: me. Photo: Ron Joy-Belle Schwartz Estate Don’t fence me in. Photo: Curt Gunther-Steven Gunther estate All together, in Chicago. Photo: Ivor Davis Collection George backs up a solo by Paul. Photo: Curt Gunther-Steven Gunther Estate Having a haircut on A Hard Day’s Night Photo: United Artists Pictures Lennon in LA 1973 Photo: Cyril Maitland
consequenceofsound.net Listen to cassette recording of The Beatles’ final concert at Candlestick Park BY MICHELLE GESLANI ON AUGUST 29, 2014 Yesterday, we celebrated the 50th anniversary of The Beatles and Bob Dylan meeting for the very first time (aka, the day the Fab Four smoked their first joint). Today, we look back on another historical moment in the legendary group’s career: their final concert, which took place 48 years ago on August 29th, 1966 at Candlestick Park in San Francisco. (While they did perform together later in January 1969 on the rooftop of their label, Apple, the event was unannounced and thus, not considered an “official concert”.) The Beatles’ last show in Candlestick Park, then home to the San Francisco Giants, featured an 11-song set over the course of about 30 minutes. Among the hits played were “She’s a Woman”, “Day Tripper”, “I Feel Fine”, “Yesterday”, and “Paperback Writer”. Tickets for the event cost only about $4.50 to $6.50 a piece, and unbelievably enough, only a little more than half of the venue’s 42,500 seats were sold. (What even … ?) As the band knew it would be their final proper concert together, John Lennon and Paul McCartney reportedly brought a camera onto the stage with them to take photos of the crowd and personally document the momentous occasion. The Beatles had also requested their press officer, Tony Barrow, to record the concert on cassette. However, since the tape could only hold 30 minutes on each side and Barrow forgot to turn it over towards the end of the set, the closing song (“Long Tall Sally”) was never recorded in full. It’s unknown just how that recording was distributed and bootlegged — to this day only two tapes (the original and one copy) were known to have been made — but, boy, are we lucky that it did. Below, listen to the audio from that very special night, followed by a lengthy and detailed account of the show and a few of the events that came before and after it, including George Harrison saying on their flight out of San Francisco: “That’s it, then. I’m not a Beatle anymore.” 01. 00:00 “Rock and Roll Music” 02. 01:39 “She’s a Woman” 03. 04:52 “If I Needed Someone” 04. 07:52 “Day Tripper” 05. 10:58 “Baby’s In Black” 06. 13:43 “I Feel Fine” 07. 16:24 “Yesterday” 08. 19:06 “I Wanna Be Your Man” 09. 21:45 “Nowhere Man” 10. 24:33 “Paperback Writer” 11. 27:19 “Long Tall Sally” (Incomplete) "Although they made an unannounced live appearance in January 1969 on the rooftop of the Apple building, The Beatles’ final live concert took place on 29 August 1966 at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, California. The Park’s capacity was 42,500, but only 25,000 tickets were sold, leaving large sections of unsold seats. Fans paid between $4.50 and $6.50 for tickets, and The Beatles’ fee was around $90,000. The show’s promoter was local company Tempo Productions. The Beatles took 65% of the gross, the city of San Francisco took 15% of paid admissions and were given 50 free tickets. This arrangement, coupled with low ticket sales and other unexpected expenses resulted in a financial loss for Tempo Productions. Candlestick Park was the home of the baseball team the San Francisco Giants. The stage was located just behind second base on the field, and was five feet high and surrounded by a six-foot high wire fence. The compère was ‘Emperor’ Gene Nelson of KYA AM 1260, and the support acts were, in order of appearance, The Remains, Bobby Hebb, The Cyrkle and The Ronettes. The show began at 8pm. The Beatles took to the stage at 9.27pm, and performed 11 songs: Rock And Roll Music, She’s A Woman, If I Needed Someone, Day Tripper, Baby’s In Black, I Feel Fine, Yesterday, I Wanna Be Your Man, Nowhere Man, Paperback Writer and Long Tall Sally. The group knew it was to be their final concert. Recognising its significance, John Lennon and Paul McCartney took a camera onto the stage, with which they took pictures of the crowd, the rest of the group, and themselves at arm’s length. As The Beatles made their way to Candlestick Park, Paul McCartney asked their press officer Tony Barrow to make a recording of the concert on audio cassette, using a hand-held recorder. The cassette lasted 30 minutes on each side, and, as Barrow didn’t flip it during the show, the recording cut off during final song Long Tall Sally. Barrow gave the original tape of the Candlestick Park concert to McCartney. He also made a single copy, which was kept in a locked drawer in Barrow’s office desk. The recording has since become widely circulated on bootlegs, although quite how is not known. The final show saw perhaps a slightly more energetic performance than usual from The Beatles, and was longer than their usual 20-25 minute duration. They barely paused between songs, although their on-stage patter was notably looser and less scripted than normal. Particularly revealing are McCartney’s comments before Paperback Writer, during which he questions the group’s future; and Long Tall Sally, which may have carried a veiled reference to the withdrawn ‘butcher’ artwork for Yesterday… And Today. Just before leaving the stage, John Lennon teasingly played the opening bars of In My Life, before running off to join the rest of the group backstage. The Beatles were quickly taken to the airport in an armoured car. They flew from San Francisco to Los Angeles, arriving at 12.50am. During the flight George Harrison was heard to exclaim: “That’s it, then. I’m not a Beatle anymore.”
www.dailymail.co.uk Hat-ing a great time! Sir Paul McCartney enjoys lunch in the Hamptons with wife Nancy Shevell as she flashes pins in vibrant lace dress By JESSICA EARNSHAW FOR MAILONLINE PUBLISHED: 28 August 2014 They partied with pals at a star-studded charity bash last week, however Wednesday's outing was much more low-key for Sir Paul McCartney and his wife. The Beatles hitmaker and Nancy Shevell made the most of the weather in East Hampton, where they were spotted dining al fresco with pals. The 72-year-old walked hand in hand with his spouse of two years while dressed casually in black shorts and a white Tee. Love Me Do: Sir Paul McCartney and wife Nancy Shevell enjoyed lunch with friends in East Hampton, New York on Wednesday The Hey Jude crooner kept his navy baseball cap on, while Nancy also chose to cover up her head in the form of a white trilby with black band. Paul - who will celebrate his third wedding anniversary in October - completed his off-duty look with brown sandals and black aviators shades. Meanwhile the brunette beauty made the most of her toned pins in a thigh-skimming lace dress complete with colourful floral detailing. Over there! The former Beatles star was seen sitting at a table with his younger spouse, who was dressed in a colourful lace dress and trilby A Day In The Life: The 72-year-old looked casual in a navy baseball cap, white T-Shirt, black shorts and brown sandals At the weekend, Paul proved he’d still got what it takes as he took to the stage to give an energetic performance at the charity gala in aid of the Apollo Theatre. The Liverpudlian crooner took part in a sing-along with Hollywood actor Jamie Foxx, who looked sauve in his plum coloured suit. Barbra Streisand, Robert DeNiro, Anjelica Huston, Pharrell Williams, Francesco Yates, James Brolin, and Jack Nicholson were also among the guests, which has become a must-attend event for New York's elite class. Soaking up some rays: The father-of-five looked relaxed as he made the most of the warm weather R&R: The couple - who married in 2011 - were seen partying in the Hamptons last week at a star-studded fundraiser benefiting the Apollo Theater It was reported earlier this month that Kanye West wanted to collaborate with Paul on his upcoming album. The Yeezus rapper, who has reportedly become very good friends with the former Beatles lead singer has approached him as he puts the finishing touches to his latest material. And it may surprise some fans that 72-year-old Paul has a big appreciation for rap. The Live And Let Die singer revealed in a Twitter Q&A in October last year that his most recent album purchases were Kanye and Jay-Z. A source told The Sun newspaper: 'Kanye has been tapping Macca up for a while about working together.' Hand in hand: The Beatles crooner took part in a sing-along with Hollywood actor Jamie Foxx
www.theguardian.com When Dylan met the Beatles – history in a handshake? Fifty years ago this week the Beatles and Bob Dylan got together to share a few joints – and the world of music was never the same again. Or so the story goes. But does pop culture really work like that? Andrew Harrison The Guardian Wednesday 27 August 2014 Just as a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day, the 50th anniversary of a major Beatle-related happening comes around every other week in 2014. Friday marks one of the bigger half-century landmarks, and the birth of a way of looking at rock music that just won't go away. On Friday 28 August 1964, in a room in the Delmonico hotel at Park Avenue and 59th in New York City – at a rendezvous brokered with a keen eye to a story by journalist, mutual friend and assiduous self-publicist Al Aronowitz – the Beatles encountered Bob Dylan for the first time. Here the folk-singing scarecrow-prophet introduced the excitable Scousers to marijuana for (allegedly) the first time. Ringo Starr, the first to be offered a smoke and ignorant of dope etiquette, chugged through that first joint like a stevedore attacking his first Woodbine of the morning and collapsed in a giggling mess. Brian Epstein became so stoned he could only squeak,"I'm so high I'm up on the ceiling." Paul McCartney believed he'd attained true mental clarity for the first time in his life and instructed Beatles roadie and major-domo Mal Evans to write down everything he said henceforth. Dylan, meanwhile, lost his cool and began answering the hotel phone by shouting, "This is Beatlemania here!" Otherwise they drank wine and acted the goat, like bands do. The post-game analysis was that, the doors of their perception not so much cleansed as kicked to matchwood and burnt, the Beatles then left behind childish things and set out on the road to enlightenment, serious artistry and self-expression at all costs. Exposed to the Beatles, Dylan would go on to create folk-rock and import the social conscience of traditional American music into the rock arena, thereby providing the counterculture with its national anthems. Kicking down the doors of perception … Bob Dylan and the Beatles. Photograph: Getty Never ones to undersell their achievements, baby boomers subsequently promoted this fairly shambolic Beatles-Dylan hangout as a decisive summit, a defining event of rock culture. "Until the advent of rap, pop music remained largely derivative of that night at the Delmonico," Aronowitz would later proclaim. (Goodnight, soul, funk and disco; back in your box, James Brown and Kraftwerk.) "That meeting didn't just change pop music – it changed the times." The truth, inevitably, is more prosaic. "The meeting was a game-changer," says Mark Ellen, co-founder of Mojo and Q magazines, "but it wasn't the instant dramatic meeting of superpowers that people imagine." The two parties had already regarded one another with envy long before they met. The Beatles were becoming tired of screaming teenage fans and life as a group, just as Dylan was becoming enamoured of exactly those things. "At the Delmonico," says Ellen, "they were passing one another at a time when each of them would quite liked to have been the other one." Afterwards, the Beatles began to mine their own interior lives for personal, self-examining songs like Michelle and Yesterday. Dylan made 1965's Bringing It All Back Home album, half of which featured a rattling full electric-rock group, to the horror of the turtleneck crowd. "These changes were probably going to happen anyway," Ellen argues. "And the Beatles and Dylan were eventually going to meet because they had to meet, just as the Beatles had to meet Elvis eventually. They were the biggest things on the planet at the time." David Bowie and Iggy Pop Photograph: Jan Persson/Redferns Yet the idea of an ultimate turning point, a fork in the woods, a Zarathustra moment where everything changes, persists. It plays to the pop fan's weakness for a version of the "great man" theory of history – the notion that everything depends on this one decision or that single conjunction – and connects to the lure of the counterfactual. (What if Kurt Cobain had lived?) If the Beatles and Dylan stories are modern myths, then the Delmonico hotel meeting becomes that most modern and meta of all pop events, a crossover episode. It's Sherlock meets the X-Men, it's England meets America, it's Dylan's adopted dustbowl past meeting the Beatles' democratised hyper-pop future, one side nourishing the other. You can see where this sort of thinking leads a person. In which case, maybe it's sad that pretty much every fateful encounter in music turns out not to be quite so singular after all. Take, for instance, the case of Keith Richards and Mick Jagger. They first run into one another on the platform at Dartford station in October 1961. Mick is carrying a clutch of rare blues records, Keith a hollow-bodied Hofner cutaway guitar. They recognise kindred spirits, fall to talking about music and within a year have formed the Rolling Stones. A prime Sliding Doors moment, you'd think. Except that they already knew each other from primary school. And the London blues scene that gave birth to the Stones was such a small one that, even separately, Richards and Jagger would surely have gravitated to Alexis Korner's Ealing jazz club and therefore Charlie Watts, Ian Stewart and finally Brian Jones. Maybe events would have corrected themselves, as they do in science fiction. David Bowie meeting Iggy Pop at Max's Kansas City club in 1971, without which no Raw Power, no Ziggy Stardust and therefore, arguably, neither glam-rock nor punk? It was hardly a chance meeting. Bowie, besotted with the Stooges, had made a point of seeking out Jim Osterberg and Lou Reed, too. You could say that Roger Daltrey spotting Who bass player John Entwistle in the street really was a lucky coincidence. ("I hear you play bass," the singer reputedly said, an astute observation given that Entwistle was actually carrying one at the time.) But even the most dedicated Who fanatic would find it hard to argue that this providential encounter determined the band's future. Whoever played bass, the Who would still be the Who. Morrissey meeting Johnny Marr? The guitarist tramped over to Stretford specifically to knock on the future Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now hitmaker's door and demand that they write songs together (plus they'd already met once at a Patti Smith concert). Clash manager Bernard Rhodes spotting John Lydon on the King's Road in an "I Hate Pink Floyd" T-shirt? The incestuous London pre-punk scene of 1975 would surely have brought Lydon and the Sex Pistols together eventually. Simon and Garfunkel? Met at elementary school. Pete Doherty and Carl Barât? Who cares? Chris Lowe and Neil Tennant Photograph: Fabio Nosotti/Corbis Pretty much the only serendipitous meeting that stands up is that between Pet Shop Boys Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe, who happened upon each other in a hi-fi shop on the King's Road in August 1981, got talking about music and were writing songs together within a week. Yet both were habitués of London clubland and would surely have got together sooner or later anyway. Just as we no longer think that the assassination of Franz Ferdinand "caused" the first world war, perhaps we only imagined that unrepeatable meetings between supernatural talents shaped our music culture. Meanwhile, the very notion of a meat-space encounter between opposing talents is disappearing as collaborations take place virtually. The 50th anniversary of Kanye West dropboxing a file to Daft Punk is unlikely to be celebrated. And that's probably a good thing.
wogew.blogspot.com New Lennon film in pre-production by Roger Stormo Thursday, August 28, 2014 The BBC reports that a new film has gone into pre-production in New York looking at the events that took place on the night that John Lennon was shot and killed outside his Manhattan home in December 1980. "The Lennon Report" looks at the focus on the efforts of first responders at the site of the shooting - and at the Roosevelt hospital where Lennon was taken. I must confess that I find this focus on that senseless murder depressing. I can barely watch these films. I stayed away from that 2008 "Chapter 27" film. There are lots of stories to tell about the adventurous life of John Lennon. Give me a "Lost weekend" film any day. May Pang is currently rewriting her "Loving John" book, because the editors removed so much from her original manuscript. A dramatisation of John Lennon's interaction with Phil Spector and the rock'n'roll gang in Los Angeles, including a visit from the McCartneys would be something I'd like to watch. Or how about his retreat from the public eye following the "Rock'n' Roll" album, his house-husband days leading up to his Bermuda adventure? Ice bucket challenge, 1965.
wegotthiscovered.com Kevin Dillon Will Attempt To Save A Beatle In The Lennon Report Isaac Feldberg August 14, 2014 The tragic story of Beatles member John Lennon’s murder at the hands of the deranged Mark Chapman has been committed to celluloid twice before, in 2007′s The Killing of John Lennon and 2008′s Chapter 27, but another project is now in the works that takes a different approach to the event. The Lennon Report, from first-time director Jeremy Profe, will explore the frantic aftermath of the shooting as police officers and emergency doctors raced to save Lennon’s life. Today, Kevin Dillon boarded the movie in the role of a New York City motorcycle cop. Much like Parkland centered on the aftermath of the JFK assassination, The Lennon Report focuses on real people who were inside Roosevelt Hospital as doctors and nurses did their best to save Lennon’s life. Among those present was Alan Weiss, a WABC-TV producer who discovered that Lennon had been shot while being treated for an unrelated motorcycle injury. Weiss would go on to win one of his six Emmys for breaking the tragic news. Dillon’s character speaks to Weiss over the course of the movie, acting as a reassuring voice of reason in a time of chaos. No other cast members have been announced for The Lennon Report, which Profe wrote with Walter Vincent. As always though, we’ll keep you posted when we hear more.
www.popmatters.com “No Complaints”: An Interview with Pete Best, the Original Drummer of the Beatles By Zachary Stockill 25 August 2014 Randolph Peter Best cuts an unassuming figure onstage. Wearing a white moustache, a frizzled taft of white hair, a boyish grin and drooping eyes, today he looks more like a retired auto mechanic than a former Beatle. Still, watching him perform at a tiny music club in a suburb of Santiago, Chile, one couldn’t help being moved by his affection for live music, the apparent zeal with which he plays the drums, and his almost-embarrassed response to the crowd’s adulation. His humility makes it clear that he is no rock star, which is a big reason why Pete Best is so easy to like. Best has experienced both incredible highs, and devastating lows over his 72 years on this planet, but you wouldn’t necessarily know it by speaking with him today. Offstage he is soft spoken, friendly and just a little bit guarded; he describes himself, above all else, as a simple “family man”. When he opened his mouth to answer my questions, revealing an unmistakeable Liverpool accent, I couldn’t help but think: “He really sounds like a Beatle.” But at the same time Pete Best is obviously not a Beatle – lacking the swagger, ego, and commanding presence common to each of his famous former bandmates. Between 1960 and 1962 Pete was the drummer of a well-travelled, but so far mostly unsuccessful British rock and roll act called variously Johnny and the Moondogs, The Silver Beetles, and, finally, The Beatles. For over two years he held the beat for John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and George Harrison in dank clubs in the red light district of Hamburg, Germany, playing marathon sets to audiences consisting mostly of strippers and sailors. After honing their craft in Germany, the band returned home to Liverpool where they soon became the city’s top-drawing act, acquiring a ravenous local fan base in the process. And then, one August afternoon, on the cusp of the band’s ascendancy to national stardom, John, Paul, and George instructed Beatles manager Brian Epstein to fire Pete and replace him with a different Liverpool drummer named Ringo Starr. And just like that, Pete was no longer a Beatle, in the process becoming forever confined to the footnotes of rock ‘n’ roll history. The reasons for the Beatles’ dismissal of Best have always been unclear. Some suggest that Pete had fallen out of favour with the rest of the band on account of his introversion; others claim that Ringo was simply a better drummer; some even claim that John and Paul were insecure about Pete’s good looks and popularity with the fans outshining their own. Whatever the reason, on the eve of Beatlemania, Best suddenly found himself to be out of work, missing out on perhaps the greatest party of all time in the process. In the months and years that followed, John, Paul, George, and Ringo would ascend to previously-unimagined levels of global fame, wealth, and commercial and critical success. Shortly after they sacked Pete, the Beatles achieved the impossible: they became even bigger than Elvis, an insane pipe-dream for the youngsters while sweating it out in Hamburg just a couple of years before. Following his dismissal from the Beatles, Best tried to make a name for himself in music, but found limited success. Eventually, he returned to Liverpool and settled into a career as a civil servant; he wasn’t playing on the Ed Sullivan Show or rubbing shoulders with the Queen, but at least he could pay the bills. And then, after shying away from the spotlight for 20 years, in the late 1980s Pete began to play various Beatles-related engagements. Rediscovering his passion for live performance in the process, the drummer soon founded his own Pete Best Band, and has toured all over the world for the past three decades. Backstage in Santiago, I was curious to get to know Pete the human being, as opposed to Pete the ex-Beatle. How does a man cope with such unimaginable disappointment? How does a musician come to terms with losing one of the most coveted gigs of all time? How does someone deal with what I assumed to be a lifetime of incredulous “What if’s?” I found many of the answers I’d been looking for when I sat down with Pete following his performance. As songs from his old friend Lennon emanated from nearby speakers—“(Just Like) Starting Over,” “Imagine” and others—I discovered a man not defeated by bitterness and disappointment, but hopeful about the future, and genuinely content with a life devoted to family, and the music he loves. Some of the songs you played tonight you played in Germany with the Beatles over 50 years ago. What’s it like playing those songs again? You still get a buzz from them, because at the end of the day they were great rock ‘n’ roll songs. Some of them I haven’t played for 50 years; you get a buzz off it simply because of the fact that it’s part of your heritage. People expect it from you. And you enjoy playing it… Chuck Berry, Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent, Ray Charles... I could go on and on. They were our heroes, so to keep them still alive even though it’s under the pseudonym of “The Beatles,” it’s still the old rockers from way back. If it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t be here. So [those old songs] still feel fresh? Oh, very much so. It’s a little bit like the audience makes it fresh. You may have played the song 50 times, but you still enjoy playing it when the enjoyment comes from the audience, and the adrenaline keeps flowing. It’s a good night… very simple. You didn’t play very much for a while in the ‘60s and ‘70s. What made you want to start playing for people again? I’d been asked for many years to get up and play so people could see what I could do, and see who this guy was… “This mysterious guy who used to play with the Beatles.” [laughs] And I kept turning them down. Then, in 1988, I got asked by the people running a Beatles convention in Liverpool, and I couldn’t get out of it… So I said “OK, let’s get it over and done with.” I picked some friends from the old days, and my younger brother [to play with], and said “Let’s have some fun. It’s going to be a one-off [performance]. Let’s just go out and show ‘em what we could do.” And we did, and the audience went wild. Absolutely wild. My mother was there that particular night because it was the first time that she’d seen her younger son and her elder son playing onstage at the same time. And when I finished she turned around and said “Pete, you don’t know it but you’re going to be going back into show business.” To which I laughed, and said “No, it’s only a one-off.” And here I am, 30 years afterward! [laughs] So she was right. Yeah, she was right. When I was watching you play tonight, you looked like you were having a lot of fun. I found it inspiring. If you can’t have fun, then don’t go back on the stage. It’s as simple as that. Simple rule in music: people feel what you’re presenting onstage. And if you’re not enjoying yourself, it comes out in the music. No matter [if] you try to disguise it. At the end of the day you wouldn’t be where you are without that audience, and you have to thank them for it. The only way you can thank them is [by] making sure your performance is 100%. Simple rules. What do you see your future looking like? Do you have plans? When you reach my age… [laughs] you still have plans, but they’re not long-term. I still want to continue playing music, and bringing enjoyment to crowds. I have no ambitions to get a record in the charts or anything like that. My mission is to bring enjoyment to fans, and I enjoy playing music to them, and I’ll continue doing that. Away from the public, I’m a great family man. And as much as I tour, I love going back home again. I have a wife who I idolize, been married to her for 50 years. I have grandchildren who I idolize as well, two beautiful daughters. It’s nice for me to go back home, and spend time with them. Have you let go of any disappointment you had about the original disagreement with [the Beatles] in 1962? Is there any lingering bitterness there? There never was any [bitterness]. Bitterness is a word the media picked up. There was anger and there was resentment because of what happened and the way it happened, because of the way I contributed to the band, but bitterness, no. It’s like anything else, if you carry it with you, you’re going to end up a bitter and twisted old git. And there’s no need for that. I’ve enjoyed life. There came a time when I was like “Fine. It’s not about thinking about what happened yesterday, it’s about today and tomorrow.” And I think once you come to terms about yourself, then you realize that there’s so much more that your future holds for you, as opposed to your past, that you’re striving for. My life since then had ups and downs; it hasn’t been a perfect life. But when I look back on it now, I wouldn’t change it. I’m happy, I’m healthy, I have a great band which tours the world. I’m a great family man, I love meeting people, I love laughing and joking with them. I’m still in show business, which I didn’t expect to be. But maybe my karma; it’s a word we use, being born out east [Author’s note: Best was born in British India, and lived there until the age of 5]. Karma’s a word we use an awful lot. Maybe my karma turned ‘round and said “Your time will come some time in the future.” I have no complaints, I’ve enjoyed life. Wouldn’t change anything.
www.sanluisobispo.com Previously unseen Beatles photos offered in Ohio The Associated Press August 25, 2014 CINCINNATI — A photographer who had special access to the Beatles' 1964 Cincinnati appearance plans to offer previously unseen photos to the public. Photos by Walt Burton will be available starting Oct. 18 during a regional photography festival, The Cincinnati Enquirer (http://cin.ci/1wrK3p1 ) reported. (Photo: Provided/Walt Burton ) Burton was the official event photographer for the Cincinnati concert, the seventh stop on the Beatles' tour 50 years ago. The photos include their airport arrival with teens rushing their limousine, a press conference and the "Fab Four" performing their Cincinnati Gardens concert. "When I saw them, I was blown away," said Christopher Hoeting, an art professor and artist who is serving as Beatles project archivist for the Burton estate. Burton is now 80 and lives in a Cincinnati retirement community. "They show the entirety of what happened that day," Hoeting said. "The intimacy is amazing." In his long career, Burton shot publicity photos for such clients as Cincinnati's Playhouse in the Park and the Playboy Club that was downtown, and operated a gallery dealing in rare and antique photographs. Prints of up to 50 of his images will be on display and for sale at a downtown store, and two groups of signed and numbered prints also will be offered for sale via email. Unframed prints will start at $150 each, with some framed prints at $525. The two 10-print groups will be limited to 25 sets each. "We're not printing 100 million of these so everyone can have them," Hoeting said. "We want these to be like little gems." He said the negatives aren't for sale, but his research indicates they are worth thousands of dollars. In this 1964 photo made by Walt Burton and provided by Christopher Hoeting, the Beatles perform during a concert in Cincinnati. Burton, who had special access to the Beatles' 1964 Cincinnati appearance, plans to offer previously unseen photos to the public. WALT BURTON — AP Photo Beatles Photos This 1964 photo made by Walt Burton and provided by Christopher Hoeting shows Beatle John Lennon backstage during a concert in Cincinnati. Burton, who had special access to the Beatles' 1964 Cincinnati appearance, plans to offer previously unseen photos to the public. WALT BURTON — AP Photo In this 1980 photo, photographer Walt Burton poses inside his gallery in Cincinnati. Burton, who had special access to the Beatles' 1964 Cincinnati appearance, plans to offer previously unseen photos to the public. CINCINNATI ENQUIRER, GERRY WOLTER — AP Photo In this 1964 photo made by Walt Burton and provided by Christopher Hoeting, John Lennon, front, and Paul McCartney, of the Beatles, perform during a concert in Cincinnati. Burton, who had special access to the Beatles' 1964 Cincinnati appearance, plans to offer previously unseen photos to the public. WALT BURTON — AP Photo A proof sheet of Walter Burton's photos from the Beatles tour stop in Cincinnati. (Photo: Walter Burton) The Beatles wave upon exiting their plane at Lunken Airport. (Photo: Walter Burton) A shot from the Beatles press conference at Cincinnati Gardens. (Photo: Walter Burton) AUGUST 27, 1964: Ringo Starr, left and John Lennon, members of The Beatles. From the Enquirer archives. FROM A AUGUST 28, 1964 ARTICLE BY DAVID BRACEY OF THE ENQUIRER STAFF: What will they do when the wave of Beatle-mania subsides? Beatle John Lennon had the answer Thursday in a Cincinnati press conference: "Count the money." (Photo: File) Joyce Cunningham was a 13-year-old Norwood resident and one of seven WSAI-AM contest winners to meet the Beatles before the concert. (Photo: Walt Burton) The cover shot from the "Beatles in Cincinnati" concert booklet/magazine produced by WSAI-AM includes a photo by Walter Burton. (Photo: Walter Burton) The original concert shot that became the cover of the "Beatles in Cincinnati" concert booklet/magazine produced by WSAI-AM. (Photo: Walter Burton) George Harrison and Ringo Starr in concert. (Photo: Walter Burton) Ringo Starr on drums. (Photo: Walter Burton) The Beatles in concert at Cincinnati Gardens. (Photo: Walter Burton)
