JOHN: The Sixties saw a revolution among youth - not just concentrating in small pockets or classes, but a revolution in a whole way of thinking. The youth got it first and the next generation second. The Beatles were part of the revolution, which is really an evolution, and is continuing.69
We were all on this ship in the Sixties. Our generation - a ship going to discover the New World. And The Beatles were in the crow's-nest of that ship. We were part of it and contributed what we contributed; I can't designate what we did and didn't do. It depends on how each individual was impressed by The Beatles, or how shock waves went to different people. We were going through the changes, and all we were saying was, 'It's raining up here!' or, 'There's land!' or, 'There's sun!' or, 'We can see a seagull!' We were just reporting what was happening to us.75
GEORGE: The Sixties was a good period, and in Europe at least it had a lot to do with the fact that we were the generation that hadn't been in the war. We'd been born during the Second World War, and as we grew up we became sick of hearing about it. To this day the newspapers and television love the war and wars in general - they can't get enough of them. They keep putting programmes on about them. There's about fifty-four wars happening right now, and even if there's a lull in one of the fifty-four wars they'll show us the re-runs of the Second World War or Pearl Harbor.
We were the generation who didn't suffer from the war and we didn't want to have to keep being told about Hitler. We were more bright-eyed and hopeful for the future, breaking out of the leftover Victorian mould of attitudes and poverty and hardship. We were the first generation to experience that, so in that respect it was good. And then we had Little Richard and Elvis and Fats Domino and all that music - because up until then it had all been pretty silly music from the Fifties. I was a bit disappointed the way the Seventies seemed to hit a brick wall and turn into headbanging and spitting on each other.
And then we bumped right into Vietnam around that time when we were starting to have had enough experience as The Beatles to have grown up a bit and realised that there's more to life than being noddy-head Beatles.
PAUL: There was a big period of freedom, which I always liken to God opening up the waves for Moses and then closing them again. AIDS has closed down the sexual freedom we had then, just as VD had shut it off for an earlier generation. I remember my dad saying he was quite envious of me because there was no longer any need to fear VD. It had been a major threat when he was a kid. We didn't have to worry about it - you just went down the clinic and got a jab. And all the girls were on the Pill, which removed another traditional worry, so we had an amazing sexual freedom.
JOHN: People are just uptight because the kids are having fun. They didn't have the same freedom because they didn't take it; they just followed the lives laid down by their parents. And they're jealous of the people that didn't do that. It's a simple sexual jealousy.
I don't know what age it was, the Twenties or the Thirties, [when] most of the pop music was about the sort of illusory romantic love that was basically nonexistent. The songs were always about love and a boy/girl relationship, but they just happened to miss out the most important thing, which was sex. I think now the kids sing and want to hear about reality, whether that's love or sex, or whatever it is.
I think the music reflects the state that the society is in. It doesn't suggest the state. I think the poets and musicians and artists are of the age - not only do they lead the age on, but they also reflect that age. And I think that's what the pop music is doing: it's reflecting.
Like The Beatles. We came out of Liverpool and we reflected our background and we reflected our thoughts in what we sang, and that's all people are doing.71
PAUL: I suppose the fashion thing was a kind of eruption. We were erupting anyway, as The Beatles; and it's very difficult to separate The Beatles' eruption from the fashion or the cultural or the mind eruption. It was all happening at once, as a whirlpool. If we got invited to places, generally it was because we were The Beatles; it wouldn't be because of the clothes, which were secondary.
Pot and LSD were the two other major influences. Instead of getting totally out of it and falling over, as we would have done on Scotch, we'd end up talking very seriously and having a good time till three in the morning. Now it's reverted and in many ways it's as though that period didn't happen. It's come full circle: the waters have closed over again and we've got militaristic things in the air instead of people putting flowers down the barrels of guns. When will they ever learn?
RINGO: I feel The Beatles were doing what they wanted to do, and a lot of it was that youthfulness of trying to change ideas. I think it allowed people to do things they wouldn't have done if we hadn't been out there. Because so many people have always said, 'Oh, it's OK for you to dress like that or to do that,' but it's OK for anyone, really.
The Sixties were it for me, but the Forties were best for my dad. For him, no one topped Glenn Miller, including The Beatles. If I play records I don't really play a lot after 1970. I go for blues, some jazz, people who were around in the Sixties. It's Bob from then, Eric from then - some Elton, not a lot. I don't play a lot of Beaky, Beaky, Nosey, Ducky, Dicky and Tich, all that stuff. I'd got it all nailed by 1970.
NEIL ASPINALL: Easing up on their breakneck schedule in early 1966, when they took a couple of months off, meant we all had more time. For them it meant time to hang around with friends, get into other things, have personal lives, even time to go on holiday.
JOHN: We were all at the prime, and we used to go around London in our cars and meet each other and talk about music with The Animals and Eric [Burdon] and all those. It was a really good time. That was the best period, fame-wise. We didn't get mobbed so much. It was like a men's smoking club, a very good scene.70
PAUL: FOR A TIME IT WAS GREAT: WE WERE INTRODUCED TO A WHOLE SET OF PEOPLE WE COULDN'T HAVE EXPECTED TO MEET IN OTHER TIMES OR CIRCUMSTANCES. IT WAS A GOOD SET, TOO; A VERY COSMOPOLITAN GROUP - GAY WOULD MIX WITH HETERO WITHOUT EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT, CERTAINLY AMERICAN WOULD MIX WITH BRITISH. ALL NATIONALITIES WOULD MIX.
JOHN: The main club we all went to was the Ad Lib. The Bag O'Nails was another. There were a couple more but they were never as big. We used to go there and dance and talk music, get drunk, stoned and high. One of the records we always played in the Ad Lib, with all of us sitting there, and dancing, looking superstoned, was 'Daddy Rolling Stone' by Derek Martin, which The Who later did a version of, like the English usually do all these great records: not too good - that's including us. That's all we ever played: American records. There was no such thing as English records in those days.74
PAUL: We're very friendly with all the other groups. When we go to the Ad Lib and The Rolling Stones are there, or The Animals or The Moody Blues, it's good to have a chance to sit down and talk about music and our latest record or their new record.65
JOHN: The thing about clubs like the Ad Lib is that we go there and we meet other people - we meet The Rolling Stones and The Animals and any visiting American artists - and we're not bothered there. I think I've signed one autograph at the Ad Lib and we've been going there a year. No one bothers us, and you can get drunk or you can fall on your face if you like and nobody's going to bother. You know that you're OK and you relax there, even though it's rowdy and heavy.65
PAUL: After recording sessions, at two or three in the morning, we'd be careering through the villages on the way to Weybridge, shouting 'wey-hey' and driving much too fast. George would perhaps be in his Ferrari - he was quite a fast driver - and John and I would be following in his big Rolls Royce or the Princess. John had a mike in the Rolls with a loudspeaker outside and he'd be shouting to George in front: 'It is foolish to resist, it is foolish to resist! Pull over!' It was insane. All the lights would go on the houses as we went past - it must have freaked everybody out.
When John went to make How I Won The War in Spain, he took the same car, which he virtually lived in. It had blacked-out windows and you could never see who was in it, so it was perfect. John didn't come out of it - he just used to talk to the people outside through the microphone: 'Get away from the car! Get away!'
Once we were going through Regent's Park on our way to North London to do a session. We were in John's Rolls and we'd just come from his house in Weybridge. Suddenly we pulled up behind Brian Jones, who was sitting quietly in the back of his Austin Princess. John was a very funny guy, and he shouted through the microphone: 'Brian Jones, do not move! You have been under surveillance - you are under arrest!' Brian leapt up about eight feet and went as white as a sheet, going, 'Oh my God! Oh my God!' Then he saw it was us - 'You bunch of bastards!' It nearly killed him that day, John was so official-sounding.
JOHN: When I first got the original black Rolls, I couldn't drive; I hadn't passed my test. I'd never bothered because I wasn't very interested in driving, but when the others passed I thought I'd better do it or I'd get left. So I got the first Rolls and it used to be embarrassing, sitting in a Rolls. People think they've got black windows to hide. It's partly that, but it's also for when you're coming home late. If it's daylight when you're coming in, it's still dark inside the car - you just shut all the windows and you're still in the club.65
GEORGE: I had a couple of Ferraris and later John suddenly decided that he wanted a Ferrari, too. We used to race together but I always regarded myself as slightly better because, first of all, John was as blind as a bat and, secondly, he was never really very good at driving. But he wanted to drive his Ferrari and I would always be fearing some huge crash. We'd come down Piccadilly at about ninety miles an hour and go under the underpass on Hyde Park Corner like bats out of hell and he'd be right behind me, trying to keep up, with his contact lenses in, or whatever. And all the way home, back down the A3; I remember that a few times. Sometimes I'd slow down, because I was afraid that he was going to have an enormous 'sausage'.
Once John was driving his Ferrari with Terry Doran in the passenger seat. Terry was a car dealer from Liverpool (a 'man from the motor trade'), and an old friend of Brian Epstein; he was with us all the time around that period. He and John were coming down the M1, doing about ninety, when a bird flew across their path and splattered itself on the windscreen. John instinctively ducked and threw up his hands - 'Whoa! - and Terry was forced to grab hold of the steering wheel and steer the car out of a crash. Brian Epstein had a big posh car. Early on it was great because Paul and I had learnt how to drive and we always wanted to drive his car. That's one of the reasons we signed up with him - because he had a good car. Brian was the worst driver. He knocked down the little 'Keep Left' bollard going into Liverpool Airport. He also had a problem with traffic lights. When they were green he'd stop, and when they went to red he'd go. He had a Maserati, which in the early Sixties was a pretty potent car, and as he went down Piccadilly in it one day the light went to red and he went across the junction. A cop was standing at the side and he shouted, 'Hey!' but Brian drove off down to the next green light and stopped. The cop came running almost up to him, but as the light changed to red he pulled away again. The cop ran all the way down Piccadilly, trying to get him, but Brian didn't even know the cop was after him. He was totally on his own agenda.
PAUL: We'd be hanging out with the Stones, working on their sessions; it was a very friendly scene. There must have been a bit of competition because that's only natural, but it was always friendly. We used to say, 'Have you got one coming out?' and if they had we'd say, 'Well, hold it for a couple of weeks, because we've got one.' It made sense, really, to avoid each other's releases. John and I sang on the Stones' song 'We Love You' - Mick had been stuck for an idea and he asked us to come along. So we went down to Olympic Studios and made it up.
We and the Stones were part of the same crowd. We used to go to a flat in Earl's Court, the late-night hangout. Actually there were a few of these - there was Robert Fraser's place, my place, Mick and Keith's place or maybe Brian's. I remember Mick bringing in 'Ruby Tuesday' as a demo; they'd just done it and it was great. We'd get everything hot off the press. They said, 'What do you think of this one?' and we said, 'Yeah, great, "Ruby Tuesday" - lovely.'
When we asked Brian Jones to one of our sessions, to our surprise he brought along a sax. He turned up in a big Afghan coat at Abbey Road. He played sax on a crazy record, 'You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)'. It's a funny sax solo - it isn't amazingly well played but it happened to be exactly what we wanted: a ropey, shaky sax. Brian was very good like that.
GEORGE: I always used to see Brian in the clubs and hang out with him. In the mid-Sixties he used to come out to my house - particularly when he'd got 'the fear', when he'd mixed too many weird things together. I'd hear his voice shouting to me from out in the garden: 'George, George...' I'd let him in - he was a good mate. He would always come round to my house in the sitar period. We talked about 'Paint It Black' and he picked up my sitar and tried to play it - and the next thing was he did that track.
We had a lot in common, when I think about it. We shared the same date of birth, or nearly, so he must have been a Pisces as well. We also shared the same positions in the most prominent bands in the universe: him with Mick and Keith, and me with Paul and John. I think he related to me a lot, and I liked him. Some people didn't have time for him, but I thought he was one of the most interesting ones.
JOHN: He was different over the years as he disintegrated. He ended up the kind of guy that you dread he'd come on the phone because you knew it was trouble. He was in a lot of pain. But in the early days he was all right because he was young and confident. He was one of those guys that disintegrates in front of you. He was all right. Not brilliant or anything, just a nice guy.70
PAUL: Brian was a nervous guy, very shy, quite serious and maybe into drugs a little more than he should have been, because he used to shake a bit. He was lovely, though. We knew he was on heroin. I knew about heroin but I couldn't have been very clear about it because I remember asking Robert Fraser about it. I think it was he who said to me, 'Heroin's no problem as long as you can afford it. There are millions of addicts, man,' and for a second I almost thought that might just be true. But thank goodness something said to me, 'No, that doesn't sound right,' so I didn't get into it. I was lucky.
I was round at John Dunbar's house when one of their friends came round and got out the rubber, tied his arm up, got out the needle and did the whole thing. I was so scared, but I just had to look. I couldn't tell him not to do it because it was his life, but it was frightening to witness. I was told that the guy died the next week, so I could see what they were getting into.
GEORGE: I GOT MARRIED TO PATTIE ON 21ST JANUARY 1966. PAUL WAS THE BEST MAN. WE GOT MARRIED IN EPSOM, AND THEN WENT TO BARBADOS FOR OUR HONEYMOON.
JOHN: MY ORIGINAL IDEA FOR THE COVER WAS BETTER - DECAPITATE PAUL - BUT HE WOULDN'T GO ALONG WITH IT.
GEORGE: The 1966 American album, Yesterday and Today, was the one with the controversial sleeve. I think Brian Epstein had met a photographer in Australia called Robert Whitaker, who came to London where Brian introduced him to us. He was avant-garde and took a lot of photographs. He set up a photo session which I never liked personally at the time.
I thought it was gross, and I also thought it was stupid. Sometimes we all did stupid things, thinking it was cool or hip when it was naïve and dumb; and that was one of them. But again, it was a case of being put in a situation where one is obliged, as part of a unit, to co-operate.
So we put on those butchers' uniforms for that picture. In the photograph we're going, 'Ugh!' That's what I'm doing, isn't it? I'm disgusted, and especially so by the baby dolls with their heads off. What the bloody hell is that all about?
Quite rightly somebody took a look at it and said, 'Do you think you really need this as an album cover?' So the record company said: 'You don't want to do a cover like that. We want to have a nice one with you all sitting in a little box.'
NEIL ASPINALL: The 'butcher' sleeve was Bob Whitaker's idea. He was trying to get across some sort of earthy idea. It was on the American album - Capitol Records issued different versions from the English ones then - and the retailers were horrified. I'm not sure how many copies they pressed, but the reaction to it was: 'What it this?'
Capitol pasted a new cover over the original sleeves they had already pressed, and then the next pressings had only the new image. But people who bought one of the first batch steamed off the new cover to reveal the 'butcher' picture. There are not that many of them out there.
PAUL: In those days you'd turn up at a session and the photographer would normally have an idea. In the very early days Dezo Hoffmann asked us to put glasses on. I said, 'I don't wear glasses, Dezo.' He said, 'Yeah, but I'll be able to sell these to eyeglass magazines all over the world.' We were getting all these little clues of how it was done. So we were used to photographers giving us bizarre ideas; sometimes we'd ask why we should do it, and they'd say, 'It'll be OK,' and we'd agree.
We'd done a few sessions with Bob before this, and he knew our personalities: he knew we liked black humour and sick jokes. It was very prevalent at that time. And he said, 'I've had an idea - stick these white lab coats on.' It didn't seem too offensive to us. It was just dolls and a lot of meat. I don't know really what he was trying to say, but it seemed a little more original than the things the rest of the people were getting us to do - eyeglasses!
He had a little history of doing that kind of shoot. I remember we came in once and he had some polystyrene that he wanted us to break, and he took action photos of us doing it. I suppose when the photos came out, it looked as if we were wrecking everything, but it was only because we were asked to do it as an idea for a photo session; and that's what the 'butcher' cover was. So we liked it - we thought it was stunning and shocking, but we didn't see all the connotations.
It was Capitol Records that didn't want it, but you have to remember the climate then. I remember Sir Edward Lewis, head of Decca, not wanting the Stones' album cover because it had graffiti on a toilet seat on it. Mick came round to talk to us about it, and I actually rang up Sir Edward and said that I thought they should put it out, but he wasn't having any of it. We weren't against a little shock now and then; it was part of our make-up.
RINGO: I don't know how it came about. I don't know how we ended up sitting in butchers' coats with meat all over us. If you look at eyes, you realise none of us really knew what we were doing. It was just one of those things that happened as life went on.
The sleeve was great for us because we were quite a nice bunch of boys and we thought, 'Let's do something like this!' What was crazy about that sleeve was that, because it was banned, they glued paper over it and everyone started steaming it off. They made it into a really heavy collector's item - which, I'm afraid to say, I don't have a copy of, because in those days we never thought, 'We'd better save this.'
JOHN: We took the pictures in London at one of those photo sessions. By then we were really beginning to hate it - a photo session was a big ordeal, and you had to try and look normal and you didn't feel it. The photographer was a bit of a surrealist and he brought along all these babies and pieces of meat and doctors' coats, so we really got into it, and that's how we felt - 'Yeah!'
I don't like being locked in to one game all the time, and there we were supposed to be sort of angels. I wanted to show that we were aware of life, and I really was pushing for that album cover. I would say I was a lot of the force behind it going out and trying to keep it out.
I especially pushed for it to be an album cover, just to break the image. And it got out in America: they printed it and about 60,000 got out, and then there was some kind of fuss, as usual, and they were all sent back in or withdrawn, and they stuck that awful-go-lucky foursome. We tried to do something different. We would design a cover or have control of more of our own covers in England, but America always had more albums so they always needed another picture, another cover. We used to say, 'Why can't we put fourteen [tracks] out in America?' Because we would sequence the albums - how we thought they should sound - and we put a lot of work into the sequencing too. They wouldn't let us put fourteen out; they said there was some rule or something. And so we almost didn't care what happened to the albums in America until we started coming over more, and noticing [for instance that] on the eight tracks they'd have out-takes and mumbling on the beginning - which is interesting now, but it used to drive us crackers. We'd make an album and they'd keep two from two from every album.74
JOHN: One thing's for sure - the next LP is going to be very different. We wanted to have it so that there was no space between the tracks - just continuous. But they wouldn't wear it.
Paul and I are very keen on this electronic music. You make it clinking a couple of glasses together, or with bleeps from the radio, then you loop the tape to repeat the noises at intervals. Some people build up whole symphonies from it. It would have been better than the background music we had for the last film. All those silly bands. Never again!66
|Revolution Is My Name||Expendable Youth Gun down cold on a raw deal|
|Международный турнир в венгрии the 9th International Youth Tournament||English literature during the Bourgeois Revolution|
|English literature during the Bourgeois Revolution||Development of prevention educational materials for teachers and peer leaders oriented on youth problems and values|
1. /Take Our Revolution.doc
1. /Manifesto for a Cytoplasmic Revolution с Переводом.doc
|I \' m not small i'm not small, I'm so tall, I can carry a tree on my back|
1. /1968 - White Album CD 2/01 - Birthday.txt