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Hello folks, and welcome to all the new subscribers! First off, it’s Memorial Day in the US today: to all who gave this last full measure of devotion we owe a debt of gratitude, thanks and remembrance. There seems to be some common misunderstanding as to what exactly this is all about – it’s not that hard. Personally, a number of my family members have served, but only in the last year when doing genealogy research did I become aware of one who died in battle; at Bastogne in December 1944. As of 2025, he leaves one living sibling. But this newsletter is about The Beatles, not me: one notable aspect of their story concerns National Service in the UK. Following the war, compulsory peacetime military service for young men was mandated in 1949 – you can read the particulars here. Think about that for a second: there but for fortune, the four who became Beatles sidestepped a disruption in their career momentum – who knows if they ever would’ve regained it and in what form? But for the program ending in late 1960 (just when their first Hamburg hitch ended – badly), they were spared a fate like this. Interesting but seldom commented upon: at the height of the Vietnam war, which many of their generation fervently opposed, Ringo was the one who recorded a song commemorating the fallen. The toll that armed conflicts take on loved ones as well as those who love them is rarely expressed so eloquently in song, at least among The Beatles’ peer group. But getting political in song was nothing that The Beatles (or at least John) were shy about post-Brian. One can argue about what constitutes “politics” in song (“The Word”? “All You Need Is Love”?), but overt politics, inspired by contemporary events, was out in the open by 1968. Paul has taken a lot of flack through the years for his evolving origin stories RE “Blackbird” and the Civil Rights movement: getting so specific in recent years as to cite the Little Rock Nine as inspiration. While his explanations have typically fused women (“birds”) and people of color (“Black”), plenty have met the claims with mountains of skepticism, among them, Hunter Davies, who was certainly around at the time, as well as Paul’s step-mother: Angie is quite vehement that the initial inspiration came from some “blackbirds” who were keeping her mother, Edie, from sleeping one night/morning. (As evidence, they cite the recording of numerous attempts at performing the song by Paul that he dedicates to “Edie.” This tape, bootlegged in the ’70s on this release, was recorded in 1974 at Elstree Studio, in connection to the One Hand Clapping project.) On the other side of the argument, the timing works out: if Paul initially conceived the tune (itself inspired as Bach-influenced finger exercise) in India, Paul was back in Scotland in time for the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King on April 4, 1968, as well as the subsequent rioting that followed in the US. Paul was aware of these events (though he never seems to have evoked King in his explanations, merely the rioting). But the most compelling evidence of some kind of civil rights connection more or less contemporaneously came just after the release of The Beatles, in late 1968 when Paul was taped in the studio with Donovan, working on Mary Hopkin’s Post Card album. He performs the song for Donovan (who had a vested interest: did you know that he was in Rishikesh with The Beatles that year, and that he taught them Travis-style fingerpicking? Just ask him – you just might be able to pry it out of him…) In this non-public documentation, Paul makes a joke about Diana Ross before earnestly asserting that the song was in fact inspired by civil rights. (Look for a deep dive into this and related topics on an upcoming episode featuring two special guests…) John led the way with overt politics with the first tune tracked for the “White Album” sessions at EMI, “Revolution 1.” Per the lore, it was freshly composed, inspired by the recent student riots in Paris (which incidentally impacted George directly: in France with Ringo for the Wonderwall premiere, the Cannes Film Festival was cancelled one day after the film was screened). Per his wishes, The Beatles laid down a bluesy, slow-paced version, that the words (including his “out/in” ambivalence) might be clearly understood. John pushed for this take to be issued as a single, that their audience might see what side they were on (both/neither). But as he would assert later, Paul and George didn’t think this approach was commercial enough for product going out under their collective name: it was momentarily shelved, while the extended coda would be repurposed as the foundation for his Musique concrète depiction of the sound of a revolution, “Revolution 9,” until the group re-cut the familiar fast version in July. Recorded on May 30, 1968, it was the attempt designated as “take 18” that became the foundation of both White Album “Revolution”s. Worth noting is the way the song was received in its day by those for whom the message may have been directly intended, especially when contrasted with the take issued by “arch-rivals,” the Rolling Stones at around the same time. In response to criticism from the “New Left” about the song, John was defensive, although his position – like so much else – was susceptible to outside influence over time. See this terrific post from Erin Weber on the subject. (Karen Hooper’s money quote: “It’s interesting to me that although John claimed retrospectively that his time with the Beatles was stifling, the truth of the matter is that the Beatle years represented a time with John was the most capable of thinking and acting independently.”) Mortality report: there are things in this world I don’t care about and one of them is football. (“You commie, you!”) Therefore, but for a mutual friend bringing it to

Hello all; First off, I want to apologize to anyone who’s had trouble accessing the SATB site. My tech, who built it (and if it looks a little geocities to anyone, LMK – there’ll be a re-design!), is a fellow who’s suffered some health issues in the last month, taking him out of availability, though he initially thought otherwise. Consequently, things needing fixing (like access and password issues) haven’t yet been sorted out for some of you. I spent the last week auditioning other techs and expect to have all of it sorted out this week. So patience please and again, if I could do this stuff myself, I would. Newsletters on the site will be made current too. On the subject of technical stuff: you listeners have long been assured that SATB’s full arrival on Spotify would be coming “soon.” That was the best knowledge I had at the time, but this has been an unduly drawn out process not of my making – what should’ve been simple has been a case of the goal posts being moved repeatedly. We’re at the point now where I was told this week that there’s a “glitch” on their end – at least they are owning up to that much, and it will be addressed this week in a “high level meeting.” So again, for those to whom this is important, . What I would advise everyone is that one of their conditions was that full or lengthy “quotes” from commercially available songs used in the shows be removed; therefore, if you wanted to download them in their original form, it may be too late (but you can always hit me up). I have been keeping new episodes for the last year or so clear of segments running to a minute or less – this should be acceptable – but everything from #123 onward was subject to a re-edit to bring them up to speed. You trade the ideal listening experience for added reach, I suppose. Not my preference at all, but I don’t make the rules…. Upward! In the news this past week, Barbra Streisand is releasing a new duets album. For context, she is a couple of months older than Sir Paul, and has been recording professionally for nearly as long. Like other song interpreters, she’s done her share of Beatles covers; she’s also turned in some bold solo choices. As you might expect, they have occasionally crossed paths through the years, but now she’s issued a collaboration with Sir Paul on a song that may shape up as his final “standard.” It is a joint effort that IMHO gels better than other such attempts (I know lots of people are fans of Santana and Rob Thomas but I never was…) – see what you think. Other news: Chris O’Dell is the subject of a documentary just made available for streaming this week in the US and UK. If you aren’t exactly sure who or what she is, Chris was a Tucson, AZ native who, around 1967, fell into the orbit of Derek Taylor in LA, during the period he was working with The Byrds and The Beach Boys. Once he was re-recruited by The Beatles to run the Apple Press Office in 1968, he took her with. Chris became an absolute insider with the group, George and Ringo especially. She was on the rooftop in January 1969 (as you all have heard here) and later, stayed close, living at Friar Park for a time, becoming the subject of a non-album solo Beatle B-side, and in 1974, managing the Dark Horse Tour. She also worked with Dylan, the Stones, Clapton, and Crosby, Stills and Nash, if being among The Fabs wasn’t enough. She’s had lifelong friendships with Pattie, May and Nancy Andrews, the latter of which we commemorated here. Her memoir is a fantastic read to anyone even slightly interested in those times and that world. Is a return visit to SATB in the cards? We shall see… On the subject of George: Mo Foster was a renowned bassist during the years coinciding with the rise of British rock. He worked with loads of artists both well known and less so; Ringo being one of the former (for Old Wave). He also penned an absolutely terrific memoir/account of the rise of British rock, entailing sitting a number of well-known friends down and collecting their anecdotes. The result was published as 17 Watts: The Birth of British Rock Guitar, a fabulous and entertaining account of those years from a number of luminaries, including George. This week, video of George taken at EMI in 1995 (while Anthology was being produced) was made public from the late Mr. Foster’s archive. This is just a teaser: apparently more will be forthcoming! May 20, 1966 was when The Beatles convened at Chiswick House under the direction of Michael Lindsay-Hogg, an American working as a director on Ready Steady Go, to shoot promotional films for “Paperback Writer” and “Rain.” He quickly made a name for himself for his pioneering work outside the show, including for acts like The Kinks, The Who and the Rolling Stones before being tabbed for Rock and Roll Circus, followed quickly by the Get Back project. Anyway, here’s a collection of the extant Chiswick House footage. Speaking of the Stones: as mentioned in passing previously, the first episode of the Classic Rock Album Olympics podcast series is here and now on Apple. Hoste by Gary Wenstrup, I am along for the ride as side-kick, so it’s not exactly SATB – just a fun gabfest between fans about albums we all know and love, rated Olympiad-style. Do check it out if you are so inclined! Last, Who fans generally (and Zak Starkey in particular) may find themselves suffering from whiplash of late. One would expect as a loving father that Ringo would be more than a little perturbed at the shabby treatment his firstborn has received by the chaotic-in-their-dotage principles: Pete Townshend

Hello all;   Welcome to the second half year of the SATB Newsletter. I first want to thank everyone who has reached out with their response to episode 304, my conversation with Bob Jackson of Badfinger – it really seems to have touched a nerve with people on many levels, but as I’ve noted before: the show is as good as its guests, and he was absolutely terrific. Their story is so compelling and ultimately at once sad and enraging over their ill-treatment and the utter lack of justice. A few documentaries have been made, but one day the time will be right for a dramatic depiction of their story – all the material is there already. On the subject of dramatic tellings of true history, the writers of the Sam Mendes “four film cinematic event” (their description) were announced this week, and they are, predictably, no slouches. You can read about their work in the link above, but perhaps what was even more noteworthy was the reaction to the news, specifically this article in what is, to be sure, not a particularly highly-regarded news platform. The writer has a valid point in asserting that, for far too long, Beatles history (and indeed, rock history) has been presented through the voice of white male writers – now this in and of itself may not be problematic per se, so long as the viewpoints of other perspectives are investigated, presented and honored, and that those “other” (non-male, non white) voices are validated as legitimate rather than, what has been the case far too often and far too long, marginalized and depicted as silly, unserious and reduced to the “soft bigotry of low expectations.” I am going to presume that the writer of the Independent article, as a woman herself, had sincere intentions at making a valid point on a sensitive issue. Here at SATB, I have strived to help remedy decades of a warped perspective by availing the platform for as much diversity as I can, especially inclusive of women scholars. But my take is that she tripped over her own message in her depiction of SATB guest (and friend) Christine Feldman-Barrett, suggesting that her scholarship was limited to the scope of her singular book, namely “women-and-the-Beatles,” as if one simply leaped into that niche without first earning cred as a scholar of rock AND Beatles. (I suppose by this criteria, I am only qualified to write about the 1950s if this, this and this is anything to go by.) Further, the Erin Thorkelson Webers and Candy Leonards of the world (to name but two) must have been astonished to learn that the only academic Beatles work by a female this author could bring to mind was Christine’s. Good on Christine – it’s a top notch work – but I suppose it illustrates what all these worthy women adding mightily to the conversation and study (you know their names just by listening to this podcast: Debbie Gendler – Carol Tyler – Sibbie O’Sullivan – Allison Bumsted, et al and coming soon Katie Kapurch, Sara Schmidt and Beth Easton) are up against: a world where not even women journalists who you would think would take a moment to familiarize themselves with what’s out there already are in effect perpetuating the issue. RE her prediction that the scripts for these four films will simply tow the establishment line by repeating the white male perspective on Beatles history: we don’t know that, but we do know that Jann Wenner, perhaps the single most influential rock journalism figure of the era in imposing a limited paradigm (which lives on in the “hall of fame” he architected), paid a price when called out on this in the 21st century. If the Mendes writers are at all paying attention, they will take heed and at the very least, invite female researchers into the mix. That’s half their audience, after all. Back to the past: the last couple of newsletters were living in 1975 to a large degree, but I thought I would fast-forward this one five years, to a mere 45 years ago and specifically, May 17, 1980. This was the day when Saturday Night Live aired an episode featuring a running gag, building to an interview with Paul (and Linda). The occasion was the release of the “Coming Up” video from McCartney II, but contextually, it was on the heels of his January 1980 Japanese drug bust, hence the joke. I always feel that to get the real feel of the times, it’s best to see things like this in full context: the guest that night was Steve Martin, and the would-be interviewer is “Father Guido Sarducci,” Vatican correspondent, played by Don Novello. Here’s the show and if you want to follow along with some annotation, here’s a transcript. This past week was the anniversary of the famous Lorne Michaels offer of $3000 for The Beatles to reunite on the show, watched in real time by John and Paul at the Dakota (though in recent years, Paul – ever the revisionist – is lately claiming that he wasn’t there and that John merely told him about the offer later. His latter-day denial doesn’t hold water for reasons I have enumerated on social media). In any event, I thought that for anyone interested, seeing the entirety of the show as they experienced it would be fun, so picture John and Paul watching this , a show that begins with host Raquel Welch (who’d starred alongside Ringo in The Magic Christian seven years earlier) duetting with Joe Cocker (via John Belushi). The Lorne Michaels segment comes at around the 42:30 mark, just after a musical performance by a contemporary of theirs, John Sebastian, who was on his way to scoring a US number one single with his Welcome Back, Kotter theme. It would’ve been interesting to have seen their reaction to Sebastian and the song, no less than their reaction to what came next… (Here’s a transcript to that

Hello all, I guess from the number of this newsletter it means that we’re half a year in – doesn’t feel like six months at all, but maybe that’s because fun things tend to go by fast. I really enjoy putting these together, even if it’s later in the day than maybe you are expecting, but I am committed to Mondays (here) and so with your indulgence, sometimes it’ll be a late night thing. It’s been a busy week on my end, but we’re hours away from 304 dropping, which has taken a little longer than anticipated. Bob Jackson and I had a long conversation – well past two hours – but I like to keep the edits tight. It should hit by this time tomorrow, and then I have 305 to look forward to – that taping ran to three hours… Anyway, not a ton in the news this past week but a few things to note: first, not anything I would consider to be major news, but the cover for the upcoming book on Wings was released; different in North America than Europe. On the subject of books and McCartney, it was announced just today that the animated adaptation of Paul’s children’s book, High in the Clouds, will feature an all-star cast (including Ringo) for the voice casting. (Also cast: Himesh Patel of 2019’s Yesterday). As you hardcores will already know, Macca and children’s entertainment/animation goes way back, encompassing a number of projects that started with grand intentions before falling short of their initial ambitions (Bruce McMouse comes to mind, as does Rupert the Bear). Maybe third time’s the charm. In other film news, Alan G. Parker’s Borrowed Time: Lennon’s Last Decade is just out in the UK. I was told by Alan that he believes it will be out in the states in August; I expect we will talk sometime before…. As mentioned in the last newsletter, the main theme of this newsletter will be Badfinger as we observe the sad 50th anniversary of Pete Ham’s suicide. This is not to belabor tragedy but rather to offer recognition of one of rock’s unsung talents who left us far too soon. I am not sure how many of you are Badfinger fans or are necessarily interested in their story per se. In 304, I attempt a thumbnail history before my conversation with Bob Jackson begins (it runs about 10 minutes). If you want to skip that, this article catches things up pretty succinctly. There are also a few documentaries out there worth seeing if you really want to catch up on their music and story. I recommend this one; if you just have time to check out some music, here’s a nice Set of Six TV showcase from 1972 at what was probably their commercial peak, supporting the Straight Up album. Something I will likely be doing going forward: creating playlists to accompany shows. Here’s the one I did for 304, including several songs from Head First as well as footage from the Bob Jackson 1982 iteration of the band, one each of Pete and Tommy’s last songs (plus a pair of tunes Tommy wrote about their bad business goings on). Everyone here should be familiar with Richard DiLello or at least his 1972 book, The Longest Cocktail Party. The self-described “house hippie” at Apple, he worked in the press office longside Derek Taylor, who is largely the star of his memoir of those insane and all too brief years. While at Apple, he befriended Badfinger and was pressed into service to photograph them: he shot the cover of Straight Up as well as the gatefold portrait for No Dice. Richard went on to a career as a writer for TV, including the early 90s show Midnight Caller (that name is a song on the No Dice album and it’s hard not to see its use as a tribute of some sort). In 1975, after Pete’s death, Richard was a guest at the Los Angeles Beatlefest. While there, he delivered an absolutely blistering editorial against the music industry that he blamed for the tragedy. I don’t know if it appears anywhere in print, beyond perhaps the late Dan Matovina’s Without You Badfinger bio, but here it is transcribed: Last: a new month means a new installment of the Seederman Chronology: #7. This one runs from July 1976 to (sigh) December 1980… PS: Remember Gary Wenstrup, most recently heard in our One To One recap? I had alluded to an announcement he had up his sleeve and here it is…

Hello folks, First off, because you are all here and appreciated for the ongoing support, I want to present something cool that I’ve shared in the past, but not in the newsletter. In 1975 – 50 years ago – I was a very, very young Beatles fan. People around at that time will tell you that, beyond the limited books available on the group, imagine a world with no internet/YouTube or home video. (Arguably, HBO and local cable existed in some places but certainly was not accessible to all, least of all me). To see any video of The Beatles at that time, you had limited options. One was to trek out to a midnight showing of Beatle films when they came around (that was how I first saw Yellow Submarine, Magical Mystery Tour and Let It Be – thankfully on a big screen and with the added value/ambience of a room full of very vocal fans). Another was at the fan conventions beginning a year earlier, produced by Joe Pope or Mark Lapidos, but they were certainly not yet ubiquitous – Chicago didn’t get its first until 1977. These events hosted ballroom screenings of the Fab films, as well as the promo films in circulation. (For example, seeing Ringo’s “Hey! Baby” on a big screen amongst fans is an experience that anyone who’s ever had will never forget.) But for the most part, you were at the mercy of TV broadcasters to catch any form of Beatles, typically limited to whatever guest appearances they made (we’ve just passed the 50th of John’s Tomorrow show visit as well as the taping of the Sir Lew Grade tribute special – a time capsule if ever was). Around that same time, Ringo appeared on the reboot of The Smothers Brothers. George, apart from his 1971 Dick Cavett Show appearance, almost never came on US TV, until his 1976 blitz for Thirty-Three and 1/3rd. And Paul, excepting his curious 1973 TV special, didn’t really warm to the medium until later in the decade; in the ensuing years, he could be counted on for any number of chat show appearances (and the occasional SNL). Beyond this, there were periodic TV screenings of A Hard Day’s Night and Help!, which – while incredibly enjoyable – were scripted and not the same thing as seeing them in performance mode. (This did not stop me and my ilk at such times from running cassette recorders in front of the TV and angrily shushing anyone who happened into the room.) US late night TV in 1975 was dominated by Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show. CBS ran their Late Movie while ABC struggled to compete against NBC’s juggernaut, offering a catch-all time block labeled ABC’s Wide World of Entertainment. This could encompass the occasional talk show (among them Geraldo Rivera’s Good Night America, where in March 1975 Robert Groden first presented the Zapruder film to the American public, therein stretching the word “entertainment” to its breaking point). Later in 1975, Americans got their first look at Monty Python’s Flying Circus in this ABC slot before it was then syndicated on PBS. On May 21, ABC turned the airtime over to David Frost and a special on the group, formally titled, A Salute To the Beatles: Once Upon A Time. I discussed this in detail in my Fab Four FAQ 2.0 book, but to sum up: it was a documentary hosted by Frost and comprised of footage ABC had at hand (ranging from various news segments to their appearance on Shindig! to the Al Brodax cartoon to various segments they controlled, like the 1973 Elliot Mintz interview with John on the beach or the 1972 footage of Wings rehearsing), as well as newly-taped interview segments with appropriate luminaries (George Martin – Mal Evans – Derek Taylor – Peter Brown) as well as, seemingly, anyone else who randomly wandered into camera range (David Essex, Bobby Vinton, Chuck Berry). For 1st-gen fans it was a sweet exercise in nostalgia, but for newly-minted young fans, it was a godsend. It was one thing to read about them in whatever books or magazines you could track down, but to actually see and hear them back then was an indescribable experience to those raised in an era where anyone interested is a few touches away on a smartphone from feasting their eyes and glutting their souls. The Shindig! footage (kinda-sorta live) was one thing, but seeing “Some Other Guy” at The Cavern was life-impacting at that time. So in short, it was something we never forgot, and now you too can revisit 1975 anytime you want. This was all before Tony Palmer’s Mighty Good, or The Rutles, or Compleat Beatles. While we know how 1995’s Anthology presentation stirred fandom among younger generations, I seriously wonder if May 21, 1975 had any lasting impact at all on anyone besides myself…. Other stuff: producer Roy Thomas Baker passed away on April 12, 2025 at 78 and I wanted to acknowledge it; not because he worked with any Beatles per se (though he did work at Trident Studios at the same time they were doing some work there, apparently) but because he did produce some acts we care about (Queen, The Cars, Alice Cooper, Cheap Trick), as well as many others (Journey, Foreigner, Ron Wood, and so forth). Safe to say, there was no hotter producer on the planet circa 1978-1979 and it was at that time that he was in contention for what became the “comeback” album for Badfinger, Airwaves. He was their choice, and apparently declined due to scheduling conflicts. Had he (instead of Elektra house producer David Malloy) done the honors, would it have marked a return to their fortunes? It’s impossible to know, but remains a footnote. And speaking of Badfinger, episode 304 will feature my conversation with Bob Jackson, truly the last surviving member of the group to have recorded an album with Pete Ham. By way of setting the table, check out

Hello all, Welcome to the SATB Newsletter, to subscribers new and legacy. Who knew this would become the year of the drummer? 2025 started strong with Ringo in Nashville with Look Up, his shows and TV special, before news of the death of Blondie’s Clem Burke (also Judas Priest’s Les Binks), coinciding with the announced retirement of Pete Best. Then there was last week: the whiplash-quick termination and then reinstatement of Ringo’s firstborn, Zak Starkey, percussionist par excellence with The Who. He’s been on board since 1996 and his role was won not through nepotism but with talent. In 1995, Who bassist John Entwistle was a member of Ringo’s All-Starr Band, and it was there that he first met Zak, also among the entourage. The Who was drummer shopping at the time, having shed Kenney Jones after their 1988 performances. (Simon Phillips took the chair for the 1989 “Final”” tour.) Zak fit like a hand in a glove for their Quadrophenia shows in ’96 and stayed with them ever after, including the 2001 Concert for New York , Entwistle’s last stateside performance. (Here’s a Quadrophenia cut from happier times.) In March 2025, The Who played a Teen Cancer charity gig at the RAH, and that’s where the trouble started. There’s no need to re-litigate the details here, but when singer Roger Daltrey was having troubles onstage hearing himself, he blamed the drummer (rather than the tech who was in charge of the monitors). The news sparked outrage around the world, most of it directed at Roger, while others suggest that perhaps the band’s time had come and gone. The normally loquacious Pete Townshend stayed uncharacteristically silent, until breaking the news on the third day that Zak in fact was back in the fold, and all mis-communications remedied. (Pity that Mr. Best is newly-retired, since his commentary on a Starkey firing would’ve been so worth it.) In other news, One To One: John and Yoko has been playing to positive reviews in US theaters. Forbes announced this week that it will be made available for purchase and streaming: details here. As noted in newsletter #23, Gary Wenstrup and I produced a “reaction” video of sorts. It turned out well, so in addition to being posted as a YouTube video, I also dropped it into the feed for the usual audio/podcast access (though I consider it to be something less than an episode – consider it bonus content). The actual new episode is just out: 303, the conversation with Ian Leslie, author of John and Paul: A Love Story in Song. It’s gotten tons of attention and I am really looking forward to what you listeners/readers think about it. This wouldn’t be a SATB newsletter without a passing to note: in this case, deejay and TV personality Wink Martindale. He was a fixture in media ranging from radio to game shows (and even had a hit record himself). For our purposes, we remember him for his interview with the Fabs in Nassau, during the filming of Help! Wink was 91. In other stuff: that David Sheff bio of Yoko was the subject of an online essay by SATB guest Christine Feldman-Barrett. And whilst speaking of new books, newly-posted is my conversation with Joe Wisbey on the fab Beatles Books podcast. Last: I am sitting on a mountain of video and audio – most of it Beatles-related. If any of you have any requests for anything specific, let me know – I am happy to share! As noted last time, all past newsletters are now archived on the SATB site – just create a sign-in. Thanks for being here – all reviews are welcomed and encouraged – and tell your friends!

Hello folks and welcome to Monday! (Though I acknowledge that it’s already Tuesday in some places this is being read…) Not a ton of new news to report but a couple of things warrant attention. First, buried in the shock of Clem Burke’s passing was news about another drummer: Pete Best. On Sunday April 6, a statement was issued through his brother (Neil Aspinall’s son) Roag that effective immediately, Pete was retired from performing. No specifics were given, beyond a vague “personal circumstances,” which of course is a jarring enough declaration. The Pete Best Band had just finished their stint on the Flower Power Cruise, alongside other luminaries of the ’60s, a week before. The band had been gigging fairly regularly of late, including in the US (Maine, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, NY) and had an upcoming Liverpool gig in August (now canceled). To anyone who saw them, good on you, because it all appears to be a thing of the past. To anyone who hasn’t, check this out: I put together an mp3 file containing 1) two sides of a 1965 single by the Pete Best Combo, featuring a pair of tunes well known by their Beatles covers, followed by a 2024 gig in Liverpool by his most recent iteration. (Access it here). (The interesting thing about the 1965 single: first, it claims on the sleeve that he sings: maybe he did somewhere but not here. Second: the label, Cameo, later merged with Parkway and in 1967 was purchased by a certain Alan Klein, who renamed it ABKCO. Third: this PBC release came out the same year as another oddball US release from his former bandmates, pairing the same songs. Someone will need quite the argument to assure me this was a total coincidence.) I did try to get him on the show once but he didn’t bite. Nonetheless, interviews with him are plentiful on YouTube, including this one which is fairly typical (and brutal: did the interviewer really just make him watch a cinematic reenactment of the worst moment of his life?). He did pen a couple of books: a memoir (which can be found far cheaper than this if you look for it) and another that I recommend more highly. Pete Best is a guy who, while clearly not on a Beatles level of talent and vision (but who else is?), was dealt a bad hand in life. That he endured and was willing to share his story, presence and music with fans all over the world speaks well of him. Others would have suffered his fate with far less grace (and on that thought, why wouldn’t it be a good idea for he and Paul to share a drink and a talk some time?), and if only for enduring a lifetime of having a terrible blow thrown in your face over and over again, maybe there’s something admirable there. For anyone who hasn’t already seen it, this is a nice encapsulation of his story. Onward! The other big news is the stateside release of One To One: John and Yoko. Whatever else you may think/expect about this film, it is absolutely worth checking out on the big screen if you can, preferably IMAX. You’ll thank me, I am confident in saying. I’d reached out to the director, Kevin Macdonald, months ago for a conversation but never heard back and now I am certain he’s up to his eyeballs. Maybe someone connected with the film will manifest later, but in the meantime, here’s my quick-and-dirty YouTube reaction conversation with Gary Wenstrup to offer our take (and spoilers abound – be forewarned!). You can read more about what Mcdonald has to say about the film here. As I write this, I am reminded of the historic nature of April 14: Lincoln, Titanic, and in 1969, Katherine Hepburn and Barbra Streisand tied for Best Actress at the Academy Awards. But over in London on that last date, two Beatles convened to track an A-side for a new single, despite the fact of their latest such release, “Get Back”/”Don’t Let Me Down” having only been issued three days before. (It came as relief within the longest drought between singles: over seven months since “Hey Jude“/”Revolution.”) Nonetheless, just back from his honeymoon, John was raring to go with a newly-penned “journalistic” account of the experience, and therefore, like a newspaper account, wanted it out ASAP, notwithstanding the absence of two bandmates. The session went well, with Paul eager to facilitate John’s wishes, availing himself on bass, piano, maracas and drums. A holy grail of the day was described in print as the evocation of the two absent Beatles by the two present ones (“Go a bit faster, Ringo!” “Okay, George!”) but the 2019 Abbey Road set reveals something slightly diminished: John’s light-hearted critique of the drummer (Paul) – “It got a bit fast there, Ringo!” – followed by Paul’s apparent call out to their producer… In any event, someone once took the trouble of doing a random remix of the song, showcasing the censorship of the word “Christ” and various elements. Here it is, married to the official promo film, which was shown in the UK on Top of the Pops and in the US on Music Scene. (Yes, the synch between music and visual was always a bit loose.) The clip was notable for 1) being an early glimpse into the footage shot in January 1969 and 2) offering the illusion that the song was a full band performance (see 1). As has been noted elsewhere, it would be John’s last song issued as a Beatles A-side (though not the last one offered…) One year to the day later, the atmosphere was considerably chillier. To circle back to One To One: it would appear that the difficult decision of what to do with the remastered Some Time in New York City set, on the shelf since it occured to the powers that be that it could be problematic in

Hello folks;   Welcome to another week. I was hoping to make it two in a row without something sad to report but might as well get this out of the way now: the passing of drummer Clem Burke, best known for his work with Blondie (but he’s played with an astonishing array of artists nearly beyond measure). He was 70 and suffering from cancer. Clem was, in the parlance, a musician’s musician: he could drum with the maniacal energy of a Keith Moon but with control in place of complete abandon. His hyper-kinetic style was very much a defining element of his band’s sound. By all accounts, he was a sweet and humble guy, and best of all, he was one of us: belonging to that 1st-generation of US fans whose lives were transformed as one of the 73 million that tuned in that February night. He spoke often of his fandom and as he relates here, met three of his heroes (while the 4th, John, documented his fandom of Blondie). Also – he was a left-hander who played with a right-handed set-up. (Remind you of anyone?) His playing always made me smile and I know it must have for millions of other fans. Shine on! The big Beatles story of the week though was the announced casting of the four leads in director Sam Mendes’ four Beatles films, ETA 2028. Everyone of course had to weigh in, including tons of people who know nothing about acting or filmmaking. The reaction across social media was as though they’d announced the finalists in a look-alike contest. (You know: the kind of thing they did regularly back in the 1960s.) There was a time in my immaturity that I might have been inclined to agree with the curious choices made based on physical appearance alone, but – I think we’re past the point where looks are the primary driver in such situations. It’s a rare thing when someone looks the part and has acting chops (does anyone else think that Cillian Murphy in his youth would’ve made a splendid Klaus Voormann?), but usually the success of projects based on real life well-known personas is based more on the script and direction rather than the capacity to resemble their character. (Daniel Day-Lewis was a rare exception in a long line of Lincoln biopics where he really did nail performance and looks.) And David Bowie’s lack of resemblance to Joseph Merrick wasn’t a deal breaker either. I guess my point is that, before everyone loses their minds over this and starts hating on it frame-unseen, we should trust that Mendes knows what he’s doing. Here’s one reasoned response. In other news: a painting by the late Scottish artist John Patrick Byrne went up for auction. It has often been reported as commissioned by The Beatles at some point between A Doll’s House and the arrival of Richard Hamilton as the cover art for what we call the “White Album.” This is not true: what is is that it was commissioned by artist Alan Aldridge for use as a frontispiece to his Beatles Illustrated Lyrics book (1969), which indeed it was. (Apparently there was a small and a large version: this auction was of the smaller version, while the larger piece was used in 1980 for the cover of The Beatles Ballads compilation.) 302 arrived this weekend: a conversation with Allison Bumsted about her book, covering TeenSet magazine and teen lit generally, and where the Beatles specifically interacted with the publishers. Also discussed: the story of DateBook and the “more popular than Jesus” controversy. She’s got an article that will be published online for free at any moment now that can be accessed here. The Q&A portion of her book launch is posted here. Next up is my conversation with Ian Leslie, he of the recently published John and Paul: A Love Story in Songs. Like so much else, it too has stirred some strong reactions from people, possibly louder from those who haven’t actually read it yet. I would again suggest patience and give this talk a listen: I think it’s an important book that connects some dots and at the very least, can influence the way you will hear their music going forward. Don’t take my word though… David Sheff’s recently published Yoko biography has been mentioned here previously. I haven’t yet read it but fully intend to; nonetheless, the Guardian once again says in print what I am inclined to believe, based on the personas involved. Yoko (and John, and in fact, all of the Beatles…) are all worthy of balanced, fair-minded explorations in print, based on data and not specific agendas/reactions to other things going on. I am hoping that we get there someday, but it may take many more years, beyond the lifetimes of the subjects, for this to happen. In the meantime, this is a big deal. You can bet I will be checking it out. (On the subject of balance: I posted one review last time and here’s another.) On the subject of writers and the past: this week was the book launch for my latest (with Jerry Hammack), Ribbons of Rust. Video of the call, which included the esteemed John Leckie, Sibbie O’Sullivan and Richard Mills, plus a supporting cast of innocent bystanders, will be posted in due course. Rather, it was the announcement of the event that drew unasked for attention, from a name that will likely be familiar to all subscribers to this newsletter. Said correspondent had this to say: “Please…. I think you guys are about 30 years late to the Beatles book business” before adding: what I see is people who have an obsession for a rock band that broke up over 50 years ago. I got in in 1984. I wrote the books that I wrote. I had my relationship with the people involved from both the inner and outer circle and moved on. I find it remarkable that people are willing