Int: It’s Possible - You Know This As Well As Anybody Does. It’s Possible That All Of You Will Be

JOHN and PAUL + eye contact

Beatles biographers saying totally normal things about John and Paul: A compilation

"‘John always used to say,’ Yoko told me at one point, ‘that no one ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him.’ The words suggested a far deeper emotional attachment between the two than the world ever suspected - they were like those of a spurned lover." -Philip Norman

"No matter how much he loved Yoko, the Gibraltar ceremony seems like something close to an on-the-rebound reaction to the loss of his first great love, Paul McCartney." -Chris Salewicz

"Almost in each other’s face, John and Paul quickly gained an unusual closeness, little or nothing hidden. Paul noticed that ‘John had beautiful hands." -Mark Lewisohn

"With Yoko present, Paul McCartney’s reign as Lennon’s princess was doomed.” -Peter McCabe

"John's in love with Yoko," Paul confessed to a reporter from the 'Evening Standard', "and he's no longer in love with the three of us." But for all intents and purposes, he might as well have been talking about himself." -Bob Spitz

'I thought Paul's was rubbish,' opined Lennon, saying that he preferred George's All Things Must Pass. McCartney studied the article with the morbid fascination of a jilted lover receiving a kiss-off letter. -Howard Sounes

“Lennon could have abandoned the (US) immigration case and returned to Britain, and possibly even to McCartney, but that would have meant accepting that his relationship with Ono was over.”-Peter Dogget

"Theirs was a volatile relationship right up to the end, and was fraught with emotional summits and valleys. While the connection between them was strictly heterosexual, it was deep, passionate, and highly explosive." -Geoffrey Giuliano

"John was insecure, and when he saw Paul he wanted to look cool. He gave up all his friends for Paul. Aunt Mimi recalled that John jumped around the kitchen when he told her about his new friend. She sarcastically said to John that they were like ‘chalk and cheese’ meaning how different they were. And John would start hurling himself around the room shouting ‘Chalk and Cheese!'’ smiling and laughing. He was fucking in love with him, he adored him. She understood he found the partner of his life." -Thomas Rhodes

“The last week in August, Paul McCartney returned to Liverpool, tanned and noticeably slimmer. In addition to starting school, he came back to begin a relationship he seemed destined for: hooking up with John Lennon." -Bob spitz

“Seeing Lennon focus on Ono rather than him [Paul] was as devastating as it would have been for Cynthia Lennon to witness the couple making love.” -Peter Dogget

you know how being songwriting partners is like marriage and songwriting is like sex and making an album is like being pregnant and songs are like your children. i don't even have anything to add to this it's just like. ok! yeah! what more can any of us do with this? you said it, man. sure!

Tony Bramwell on Brian:

- Brian dropped in at the Cavern and, spoiled for choice, fell in love at first sight with each of the Beatles in turn

- Brian almost promised to love, honour and obey them.

- He never publicly showed his embarrassment with poor deals, but one could tell something wasn’t right because inside, he anguished. Chewed his knuckles and grew pale.

- He was a fiercely loyal and honourable friend to those he loved, and ruthless toward those he despised

- He was shy to the point of blushing and stammering, and theatrical to the point of ranting and frothing at the mouth

- His biggest problem, perhaps his only real problem, was that he was homosexual in a still very unenlightened era. It kept getting in the way. Whenever he sat down for a meeting with heavyweights like Sir Joseph Lockwood at EMI, or whoever, he felt they all knew. “They’re talking behind my back, Tony,” Brian said. “They don’t respect me.”

- Paul was fond of Brian and thought he was the best possible manager: one who was courteous, who didn’t interfere with their private lives, but achieved all he said he would do. He never criticized him—none of us did. Brian was a god.  (It was only later that the façade cracked a bit, but even then we loved him. He was like family, and you accept your family for what they are and forgive them most anything.)

- his wonderfully fertile mind continuously thinking up innovative ideas and then worrying about them

- Brian was so different when around his beloved protégés. He became one of them. He was a friend, a chum, charming, trustworthy and kind. He set out to do what he promised and they all said it would never have happened without him.

- Brian bought an off-the-shelf company named Suba Films, which I virtually ran. It was way ahead of its time, the only independent company in England making music videos

- Whenever things got raunchy and out of hand around us, he would make his excuses and leave. At times, he almost ran.

- [on writing his biography]: “You don’t think John will think I’m raining on his parade, do you?” he asked hesitantly.

- I believe that Brian’s paranoia over the Beatles’ contract and his heavy use of drugs led him to think that it was only a matter of time before everything came tumbling down and he would be left standing in the ruins, with people pointing their fingers like kids in a playground.

- He was seriously ill and desperately sought to escape from the circus of his own creation.

- He was tormented by the idea of letting down his beloved Cilla and the Beatles, particularly John.

- He underwent deep sleep therapies at the Priory, being put under for days at a time with heavy drugs.

- Whether he managed the Beatles or not, he would still get 25 percent of their earnings from record sales for nine years. This subtlety had somehow escaped the Beatles, but it bothered Brian. It gnawed at his conscience because in his heart he knew he had conned them.

- [He] was abnormally distressed, convincing himself that they weren’t going to sign up again because they loathed him. Going through months of paranoia, he looked for reasons and forlornly asked the question, “Don’t they like me anymore?”

- It was so silly because it wasn’t like that at all. At different times, all of them commented to me that they would never have signed another contract as “Beatles” but they would have signed individually with Brian.

- “No, I think John hates me now. I don’t know what I’ll do if they don’t sign. What will people think? I can see the headlines now: EPSTEIN DUMPED BY BEATLES.”

- He was now seriously unhappy, not just troubled. His personality had radically changed.

- Brian had resident nurses, doctors who stayed, psychiatrists who lived in, all crowded into that little doll’s house, getting on each other’s nerves. At times he’d make an effort. He would sweet-talk everyone and then escape when they weren’t looking.

- [after Brian's death] Joanne was in shock. She had seen him first. The doors had been broken down and there he was, curled up on his side in bed with Saturday’s mail lying next to him. “We all knew at once that he was dead, but I heard myself say, ‘It’s all right, he’s just asleep. He’s fine,’ ” she said.

- It was unbelievable that the man who had got all this going—the vast money-making machine and the culture shock that had changed the world—was gone.

- The Summer of Love was over and autumn coming.

- I have been asked many times why it was that the Beatles didn’t just hire an office manager to handle their business affairs and pay him or her a salary. It would have made sense. But it never occurred to them. They just went blindly on, trying to find someone to replace Brian, like it was some kind of law. They seemed to think that they had to have a manager, to whom they had to give 25 percent of their gross income, or they’d be arrested or drummed out of the Brownies.

1979 is now up there with 1968 in my “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED BETWEEN PAUL MCCARTNEY AND JOHN LENNON” years.

You don’t just make something as joyful, teasing, naughty, and romantic as McCartney II out of the blue… You don’t just then come out of retirement out of the blue and starting boogying to Double Fantasy + Milk and Honey tracks COINCIDENTALLY, do you? DO YOU??

This is driving me a little crazy. What is your favorite conspiracy theory here?

i heart submarines ❤️

divassssssssssss 👑

✂️✂️✂️

Any Day Now, Bob Dylan's songs sung by Joan Baez, 1969. Cover design and illustrations by Joan Baez. x

Sections of Ticket To Ride, by Larry Kane, which address anti-Semitism:

Early in the '64 tour:

About an hour into the flight, a word reached my ears that I couldn't ignore. In everyone's life, there are certain words that spark instant revulsion. I raised my head from my book and my mind raced quickly, along with the beat of my heart, when I heard the word kike. Worse yet, the ethnic slur came from the rear, where the Beatles and Derek Taylor were sitting. I didn't race to conclusions. After all, I could have misunderstood what was being said. I bit my lip and hoped I was wrong. Then I heard the word again, this time in part of a sentence, "The kike did---" I heard, though I couldn't be sure whose voice had said it. Although it's hardly part of the current hate vernacular, the word was used generously by bigots in the 1960s.

Irritated, disappointed and agitated, I got up from my seat and approached the rear, about five rows back. My growing-up years, especially those I had spent in suburban Miami, had sensitised me to words that hurt. And this hurt, especially at the time and place.

I approached the opening to the Beatles' small compartment, stuck my head in, and blurted out "Listen, I just want to say that I heard a word that really pisses me off. I'm Jewish, and I won't stand for that crap. I mean, whoever said it, can't you think before you talk?"

The beatles, Derek Taylor and Malcolm Evans looked startled. Sheepishly, without the courage to wait for an answer, I returned to my seat, figuring that the outburst would end my travels with the band, or at the least would rupture the rapport I had established in just a few days.

Minutes passed. The Derek Taylor came forward and knelt alongside my aisle seat. He said "Look, I'm really sorry. It came from me. It's just a word that is used quite casually in English life and I didn't mean anything." I replied, "But you didn't say it." I knew the voice hadn't been his. "What do you mean?" "I mean you didn't say it." Derek smiled. "Doesn't matter. It was said nonetheless. I'm sorry."

At that point I felt foolish about the whole thing. But I also knew that if I had let it go and ignored the slight, I could not have lived with myself the rest of the tour.

Minutes later, Lennon came over and sat down. I don't remember our exact words, but we had a relaxed and compassionate conversation about the roots of prejudice in Liverpool. It was a good talk. As we spoke, Ringo and George walked by. Ringo gave a wink, and George just said, "How you doing, Larry." Paul didn't make a special trip. He did pass by on the way to the bathroom and said "Great working with you, Larry." It was, I interpreted, his way of smoothing the episode over.

I felt good, but still self-conscious that I had responded so aggressively. Whatever the roots of the prejudice and whatever the reasons someone had spoken that word, I knew I would never hear it again for the remainder of the tour. And this incident did something else; it showed me that the Beatles possessed genuine compassion and feeling.

Two years later Derek [...] brought up the subject. I had long forgotten, but Derek had not. He confirmed that he wasn't the one who had said the word and that the boys had been embarrassed. When I asked him who'd said it, he changed the subject.

_____

Towards the end of the '65 tour Brian Epstein invited Larry for drinks in his rented cottage:

As the conversation progressed, I realised that I was serving as a depository for some pent up, constrained feelings. I listened intently as he expressed concern that he was losing his grip on John and maybe the whole group and described his fear that, without his presence, the Beatles' unity would divide into four separate camps. His words would be prophetic, but he didn't imagine that his own death would be a catalyst in realising those predictions.

I was surprised as Epstein described a growing paranoia. He looked pained when he described an awareness of the boys talking behind his back. He assumed that they were laughing at him. I told him I had never heard or seen anything like that. I could imagine that happening, but I was hardly an expert on their private behaviour and of course didn't make any guesses with him. [...]

And then, much to my astonishment, he addressed a subject close to my heart - anti-Semitism. This scourge was commonplace in industrial Liverpool in the forties and fifties, he said, creating a cloud of resentment that he unmistakably felt, even around entertainers. "Are the Beatles anti-Semitic?" I inquired.

"I don't think so," he said, "But it was always around them, so it may be in them." I never told him about the incident on the plane in 1964.