PAUL: We all discussed it. We knew it wasn't really a big issue for us, but because it had become so big we couldn't deny it.
I've never seen John so nervous. He realised the full import of what had happened. So he had to say, 'I didn't mean it like that. I meant I'm actually quite supportive...' - which people were able to accept as an answer, except in the Bible Belt.
JOHN: If I'd have said, 'Television is more popular than Jesus,' I might have got away with it. I am sorry I opened my mouth. I just happened to be talking to a friend and I used the word 'Beatles' as a remote thing - 'Beatles', like other people see us. I said they are having more influence on kids and things than anything else, including Jesus. I said it in that way, which was the wrong way. I'm not anti-God, anti-Christ, or anti-religion. I was not knocking it. I was not saying we are great or better. I think it's a bit silly. If they don't like us, why don't they just not buy the records?
It was part of an in-depth series she was doing, and so I wasn't really thinking in terms of PR or translating what I was saying. It was going on for a couple of hours, and I said it just to cover the subject. It's so complicated, and it got out of hand.
When I first heard about the repercussions I thought, 'It can't be true - it's just one of those things.' And then when I realised it was serious, I was worried stiff because I knew how it would go on, and the things that would get said about it, and all those miserable pictures of me looking like a cynic, and it would go on and on and on and get out of hand, and I couldn't control it. I can't answer for it when it gets that big, because it's nothing to do with me then.
I'm sorry I said it for the mess it's made, but I never meant it as an anti-religious thing. My views are from what I've read or observed of Christianity, and what it was, and what it has been, and what it could be. I'm not knocking it or saying it's bad. I'm just saying it seems to be shrinking and losing context. Nothing seems to be replacing it. It's no good going on and saying, 'Yes, it's all fine, we're all Christians and we're all doing this,' and we're not doing it!
I don't profess to be a practising Christian. I think Christ was what he was, and if anyone says anything great about him, I believe, but I'm not a practising Christian like I was brought up to be.
I got away with it in England inasmuch as nobody took offence and saw through me, but in America it went the other was. We forget we're Beatles sometimes. You can't help it, and if you say something like 'Britain's becoming a police state,' you say it exactly the same as two friends in a pub across the bar.
I don't like supposing that somebody like Jesus was alive now and pretending and imagining what he'd do. But if he was Jesus and he held that he was the real Jesus that had the same views as before -well, 'Eleanor Rigby' wouldn't mean that much to him. [CHICAGO PRESS CONFERENCE, 11TH AUGUST 1966]
PAUL: We don't care about those who don't like us because of the statement. We'd rather perform for people who do like us. We found out that the guy who started it did it purely as an unashamed publicity stunt.66
JOHN: It doesn't matter about people not liking our records or not liking the way we look or what we say. There're entitled to not like us - and we're entitled not to have anything to do with them if we don't want to, or not to regard them. We've all got our rights... Harold.64
RINGO: It shows us where people are at, because they love you and love you, but then when something like that happens millions of kids start burning their Beatles records. There were bonfires of them - which was OK for us because later they rebought them! But we knew it was getting pretty rough.
The repercussions were that we played a lot of places where people were getting really angry. The Ku Klux Klan were out in force, which was pretty frightening. There was always that edge in America - we knew that they did have guns.
I don't think we contemplated cancelling the tour. We never cancelled anything. Brian would say, 'Here you go,' and we would say, 'Oh, we're off again.' I think we just moaned: 'This is enough.' But it was a routine: 'It's autumn, you make a record and get it out for Christmas.' There were all these strange rules, and we'd keep on going. But it was starting to get too much. It was building up to us saying, 'This is it.'
GEORGE: With the stress and all the things we had to go through anyway, it was something we could have done without. There was a consideration that we might not bother with the tour because we felt we were going to get threatened.
We thought we could actually pull out of one concert in the South, in Memphis - and in Memphis there was film of a guy from the Ku Klux Klan with his shades on, saying, 'We have ways of dealing with this...' But apparently the members of the Klan who were outside the stadium got chased away by the fans. So although we were feeling quite frightened (I remember sitting in a little minibus on the way to the gig, feeling a bit scared) we did the show. Nothing happened. We got out there and that was it.
PAUL: By the time we got to the Bible Belt, down South, there were people banging on our windows. I particularly remember a young boy, maybe eleven or twelve years old, banging on the window of our coach. If he could have got to us, I think he would have killed us; he was fired up with the Spirit of the Lord. And we were saying, 'No, we love you. It's OK.'
It made us wonder about touring. It was a case of how much of a good thing can you have? How long can you sustain things? Every tour had gone great, marvellous, but we were becoming a bit fed up anyway because we'd been at it so long - and it gets gruelling: one Holiday Inn after another. Now other things were starting to happen: Manila and threats - and people thinking we're anti-Christ!
GEORGE: IF EVERYBODY WHO HAD A GUN JUST SHOT THEMSELVES THERE WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM.
PAUL: Threats were hard for us to comprehend. We weren't into prejudice. We were always very keen on mixed-race audiences. I remember a woman coming to our school once, giving a lecture on South Africa, saying, 'It's marvellous - you can get a boy to do the tea, and we have boys cleaning up, and boys in the cricket nets...' We said, 'Don't you feel a little embarrassed? It's like slaves, isn't it?' - 'No, no, no. They love it, the little boys.'
GEORGE: I think we were offered gigs in South Africa but we wouldn't go, and because of that they banned our records there.
JOHN: Musicians don't usually have this thing about what street you live on. They get that scene sorted out as soon as they meet other musicians. It's the music that counts. But there's no common denominator for society like in music.68
PAUL: With that being our attitude, shared by all the group, we never wanted to play South Africa or any places where blacks would be separated. People said to us later that even if you let everybody in, all the black people tended to stick together and all the white people. You don't integrate just because. Someone says it's nice - you sit with your mates. That was all right, but we didn't want any segregation. We were very keen on people's rights. It wasn't out of any goody-goody thing, we just thought, 'Why should you separate black people from white? That's stupid, isn't it?'
JOHN: We dare not go out on the streets. We just stay in the hotel room until the car or coach calls to take us to the show. We miss an awful lot, but I suppose we will see it one day.
We seem to have gone back every August, as far as I can see. Like our annual trip. The longest tour we ever do is three weeks, and it's usually America where we do the longest tours. Three weeks - if you're busy, it's all over before you know what's happened, and you're back home.66
NEIL ASPINALL: The American tour was a repetition of what they'd done the year before, and therefore it was boring, really. It was the same good old exciting America, but it's like anything else - if you've done it once or twice, the third time is a bit old hat.
When they played Shea Stadium again, for me it blended in with the first one, though it was said there were slightly fewer people there than the year before. For some reason I missed the police van that was taking us. I had gone back for something, and before I could get in the van, they slammed the doors and of it went. I was left at the hotel, so I got a cab, but that broke down in Harlem. Another cab took me to the stadium, but there were thousands of people, and I thought: 'Oh God, they're really going to let me in! I'm going to just knock on the door and say, "I'm with The Beatles?"' Then I saw the four of them banging out of a window, and they saw me wandering round the car park. It was like magic; they were shouting, 'There he is! Let him in!'
In the Washington gig there had been a Ku Klux Klan demonstration, but it turned out to be six guys in white sheets and conical hats walking round with a placard. It really didn't amount to much. But the assassination threats in Memphis were more scary.
JOHN: One night on a show in the South somewhere [Memphis] somebody let off a firecracker while we were on stage. There had been threats to shoot us, the Klan were burning Beatle records outside and a lot of the crew-cut kids were joining in with them. Somebody let off a firecracker and every one of us - I think it's on film - look at each other, because each thought it was the other that had been shot. It was that bad.74
GEORGE: Cincinnati was an open-air venue, and they had a bandstand in the centre of the ballpark, with a canvas top on it. It was really bad weather, pouring with rain, and when Mal got there to set up the equipment he said, 'Where's the electricity power feed?' And the fella said, 'What do you mean, electricity? I thought they played guitars.' He didn't even know we played electric guitars.
It was so went that we couldn't play. They'd brought in the electricity, but the stage was soaking and we would have been electrocuted, so we cancelled - the only gig we ever missed. But we did it the next morning. We had to get up early and get on and play the concert at midday, then take all the gear apart and go to the airport, fly to St Louis, set up and play the gig originally planned for that day. In those days all we had were three amps, three guitars, and a set of drums. Imagine trying to do it now!
MAL EVANS: Open-air concerts in the States were terrible. When it looked like rain in the open air, I used to be scared stiff. Rain on the wires and everybody would have been blown up; yet if they'd stopped the show, the kids would have stampeded.
PAUL: When we played one place it rained quite heavily, and they put bits of corrugated iron over the stage, so it felt like the worst little gig we'd ever played at even before we'd started as a band. We were having to worry about the rain getting in the amps and this took us right back to the Cavern days - it was worse than those early days. And I don't even think the house was full.
After the gig I remember us getting in a big, empty steel-lined wagon, like a removal van. There was no furniture in there - nothing. We were sliding around trying to old on to something, and at that moment everyone said, 'Oh, this loody touring lark - I've had it up to here, man.'
I finally agreed. I'd been trying to say, 'Ah, touring's good and it keeps us sharp. We need touring, and musicians need to play. Keep music live.' I had held on that attitude when there were doubts, but finally I agreed with them.
George and John were the ones most against touring; they got particularly fed up. So we agreed to say nothing, but never to tour again. We thought we'd get into recording, and say nothing until some journalist asked, 'Are you going out on tour?' - 'Not yet.' We wouldn't make The Big Announcement that we'd finished touring forever, but it would gradually dawn on people: 'They don't appear to be going on tour, do they? How long was that? Ten years? Maybe they've given it up.'
That was the main point: we'd always tried to keep some fun in it for ourselves. In anything you do you have to do that, and we'd been pretty good at it. But now even America was beginning to pall because of the conditions of touring and because we'd done it so many times.
RINGO: In 1966 the road was getting pretty boring and it was also coming to the end for me. Nobody was listening at the shows. That was OK at the beginning, but it got that we were playing really bad, and the reason I joined The Beatles was because they were the best band in Liverpool. I always wanted to play with good players. That was what it was all about. First and foremost, we were musicians: singers, writers, performers. Where we ended up on a huge crazy pedestal was not really in my plan. My plan was to keep playing great music. But it was obvious to us that the touring had to end soon, because it wasn't working any more.
On the last tour of America the most exciting thing was meeting people who came to the shows, not the shows themselves. We'd played the stadiums, we'd played to the big crowds, and still we were only doing our thirty-minute show!
JOHN: The Beatles were famous for doing fifteen-minute shows; we could speed it up to fifteen minutes over in America. Fifty thousand people, and we'd be off. That was our record. We got our kicks from seeing how fast we could do the whole show. And if we were really counting them in too fast, or were too speedy to deal with it, we'd run off and realise we'd only been on fifteen minutes.
There were times when your voice was so bad (through losing your voice) you virtually wouldn't be singing at all, and nobody would notice because there'd be so much noise going on. You could never hear what we were doing. It would just become a sort of happening - like Shea Stadium was a happening. You couldn't hear any music at all. That got boring; that's why we stopped it.71
PAUL: BY CANDLESTICK PARK IT WAS LIKE, DON'T TELL ANYONE, BUT THIS IS PROBABLY OUR LAST GIG.
RINGO: There was big talk at Candlestick Park that this had got to end. At the San Francisco gig it seemed that this could possibly be the last time, but I never felt 100% certain till we got back to London.
John wanted to give up more than the others. He said that he'd had enough.
JOHN: I didn't want to tour again, especially after having been accused of crucifying Jesus when all I'd made was a flippant remark, and having to stand with the Klan outside and firecrackers going on inside. I couldn't take any more.80
RINGO: I don't think anyone didn't want to stop touring, but Paul would have gone on longer than George and I. I was feeling such a bad musician and I was fed up playing the way I was playing. That was my criteria for ending it. I just wasn't working on the road any more because i couldn't play.
I don't think any of the decisions were made quickly. We'd all expressed them and moaned about them, laughed about them and cried about them. Then it had got to a head where it was 'yes' or 'no' time - and we seemed to do that with the touring, with the recording and with the breaking-up. None of those things ended with someone turning round and saying it without talking about it first. We didn't make a formal announcement that we were going to stop touring, because it was just something we decided and then we let it go away.
GEORGE: When we got to Candlestick Park we placed our cameras on the amplifiers and put them on the timer. We stopped between tunes, Ringo got down off the drums, and we stood facing the amplifiers with our back to the audience and took photographs. We knew. 'This is it - we're not going to do this again. This is the last concert.' It was a unanimous decision.
It was too much, with all those riots and hurricanes. Beatlemania took its toll, and we were no longer on the buzz of fame and success. 'The Dental Experience' had made us see life in a different light, and touring was no longer fun.
We'd done about 1,400 live shows and I certainly felt that was it. I never really projected into the future; I was thinking, 'This is going to be sure a relief - not to have to go through that madness any more.'
It was nice to be popular, but when you saw the size of it, it was ridiculous, and it felt dangerous because everybody was out of hand and out of line. Even the cops were out of line. They were all caught up in the mania. It was as if they were all in a big movie and we were the ones trapped in the middle of it. It was a very strange feeling. For a year or so I'd been saying, 'Let's not do this any more.' And then it played itself out, so that by 1966 everybody was feeling, 'We've got to stop this.' I don't know exactly where in 1966, but obviously after the Philippines we thought, 'Hey, we've got to pack this in.'
We were all still pretty friendly; we were just tired. It had been four years of legging around in a screaming mania. We'd had a couple of small vacations, but we'd only had one big holiday during that whole four years. We needed a rest. I don't think anybody was regretting it, thinking, 'This is the end of an era.' I think we welcomed it.
JOHN: I reckon we could send out four waxwork dummies of ourselves and that would satisfy the crowds. Beatles concerts are nothing to do with music any more. They're just bloody tribal rites.66
GEORGE: WHILE EVERYBODY ELSE WAS GOING MAD, WE WERE ACTUALLY THE SANEST PEOPLE IN THE WHOLE THING.
NEIL ASPINALL: It was in India that I heard for the first time that they might not tour in 1967. We were all in a hotel suite with Brian, talking about going to America. It was George who asked Brian, 'Is this touring becoming an annual event?' because he wasn't prepared to do it again. Probably they'd all spoken about it among themselves and decided that it wasn't a good idea. And they decided then and there that they weren't going to do America the next year.
So when we got to Candlestick Park we knew that was the last gig. For me that wasn't The Last Gig Ever; it was just that they weren't going to tour for a while. I never knew what my role was, so I figured their not touring wouldn't affect me.
I'm not sure whether or not Brian was at the last show. Maybe he was trying to find his briefcase. It was reported that money and other personal items had been stolen from his room. Brian was robbed on occasions.
With no more live shows planned, the idea was that they could make more records. All The Beatles' albums, with the possible exception of Revolver, had been fitted in between coming off the road and getting back on. They would have to make an album in two or three weeks, including the cover and everything. Then they were back on the road with no real time to concentrate on it.
GEORGE MARTIN: Curiously enough the second Shea Stadium concert had about 11,000 seats unsold. So it was a pretty unsettling time. And it was against this background that they said, 'Right, we definitely won't do any more. We are going to have a break and then we are going into the studio to make a record.'
PAUL: I don't remember having a negative feeling about the band. I did about touring. But you always forget the bad bits. It's like a holiday when it rains all the time; you just remember the fine days.
George has said, 'We weren't musicians any more. We were just moptops and rag dolls,' and I think that was true. We were getting fed up with that aspect, but I think I could have handled it. I expect that when you become famous.
But the quality of the music wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better with the touring. We all agreed that maybe going into recording would be the new thing to turn us all on.
JOHN: We are not goody-goody boys. We are not possessed of limitless patience. One has to have the quality of an angel to cheerfully submit to the demands of some fans. We're not trying to pass off as kids, and we're human as the next fellow. Whether we look our age or not, very often we feel a lot older than we really are.
We can't go on holding hands forever. We have been Beatles as best we ever will be - those four jolly lads. But we're not those people any more. We are old men. We can't go on hopping on Top of the Pops forever. We still enjoy it, but sometimes we feel silly. We can't develop the singing because none of us can sing the tune. We've got to find something else to do. Paul says it's like leaving school and finding a job. It's just like school, actually, because you have the group to lean on, and then suddenly you find you're on your own.
I shouldn't worry if I was rejected by the public. It's rejection on the part of
|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