Never get tired of watching that thing. Still can’t get over how many times Lennon, especially at this point, looks over at McCartney for his high five eyes.
GOD. There is so much here that reduces me yet again to babbling fanboy.
I’ve always loved the look on John’s face of slight embarrassment mixed with his trademark mischievousness when he forgets the words on “Don’t Let Me Down” and just starts singing gobbledygook—it’s at the 5:25 mark.
I love that Ringo, behind him, is laughing happily.
But what’s even better is the look Paul and John share right after as they wordlessly agree to get back on track together.
And that smile on John’s face, one of quietly confident pleasure, of absolutely secure trust in his musical partner, proves—as if we didn’t already have more than enough proof—that John was right on target when he later said that no matter how bad things got between them, whenever they started playing music, it was always good.
But it’s the very brief look John and George share shortly afterwards, during the following chorus, the small nod George gives just before the camera cuts away, that drives home that before the brilliant songwriting, before the groundbreaking studio work, before the unprecedented fame and fortune, they were very simply the finest rock and roll band ever, and ever so much more than the sum of their extraordinary parts.
Funny you should lead with “GOD,” Scott. For anyone who gets hung up on fundamentalism and notions of blasphemy, stop reading this thought now.
I freely joke that music and baseball are my religions. While watching this yesterday, I was thinking, “We are living through the early formation of a religion.” I imagined the people who first documented the life and teachings of Jesus or Buddah or whatever human form of God we know about today. The Beatles, a thousand years from now, could be the center of a religious movement. (And I acknowledge that I’m sounding like Charles Manson here. Sorry.) The authors of the Beatles tomes we have grown up reading, the Books of Lewhison in the works, etc, could be studied hundreds of years ago. This rooftop performance will be like a final Station of the Cross. It’s sick to admit that I think about things like this, but I can’t think of another artist or group or artists around which a religion could thrive. Dylan, for instance, “suffers” from never leaving us, never burning out. He’s like the slow-fade dream that Jesus refuses to live out in The Last Temptation of Christ.
I think Mal called the cops. The whole thing was a set up to put a button on the performance and get them out of there gracefully after completing the prepared set. In fact, the cops were a few minutes late and they had to interrupt a reprise of Get Back.
I think Keith Richards called the cops. A few years before the rooftop concert, Keith Richards called up the parents of his ex-girlfriend Linda Keith to warn them she was dating a junkie musician named Jimi Hendrix. His jealousy has often gotten the better of him. I don’t think suggesting such a thing is that much of a stretch. I think it’s certainly worthy of discussion.
It begins…
The story of rock’n’roll in the 60s has been told countless times by the stars who sang the songs, spun the solos or thrashed the drums. In the UK at the time, that most often meant straight white men, as it did in the US. But the people who shaped and advised those artists – the ones who managed the stars of the classic rock age – were, by an outsized margin, gay men.
That interwoven community included Brian Epstein (who brought the world the Beatles), Kit Lambert (who co-managed the Who), Simon Napier-Bell (the Yardbirds, and a young Marc Bolan), Robert Stigwood (Cream, the Bee Gees), Billy Gaff (Rod Stewart), Ken Pitt (David Bowie), Barry Krost (Cat Stevens), as well as Tony Stratton-Smith (who formed the visionary label Charisma for bands like Genesis). In fact, it was a gay man, Larry Parnes, who svengali-d Britain’s very first rockers, from Tommy Steele to Billy Fury to Marty Wilde…
Geo, please open the link. Most Beatles fans cite the death of Brian Epstein as the beginning of the end. That’s nothing compared to this. A response is needed asap.
He probably played borrowed right handed guitars early on before he got a lefty, but started on bass when the Beatles were professional and started right in playing a left handed bass so never got used to it.
I remember a wacky sound guy at the East Side Club that played left handed and could play a right handed guitar flipped. I remember him saying that McCartney could do that.
A cursory look at pics of Mccartney playing bass and guitar shows him playing with “normally” ordered strings. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could play an upside down instrument, but would be surprised if he couldn’t do it with both bass and guitar. Therefore, the more likely explanation was that everyone was high AF.
I’ll post this here, as a follow-up to an especially fanboy-ish thought I shared regarding the Beatles and my sense of religion. I was listening to a recent interview of the bassist by Earth, Wind & Fire – Maurice White’s brother (sorry, I forget his first name) – by Rick Rubin on the Broken Record podcast. I’m not a big fan of EW&F, but the guy was great – a real musician’s musician. Rubin started asking him about the band’s influences, starting with James Brown. White brushed off Brown pretty quickly, saying that they loved Brown’s live show and the rhythms, but they didn’t think he had many songs. Eventually, White steered it to The Beatles. He went on this beautiful thing about how they blew it all open, how they were the fountain that everyone could drink from. He was so articulate and appreciative while talking about them. Rubin was following along. At one point he simply added, “For me, The Beatles were proof of God.”
Never get tired of watching that thing. Still can’t get over how many times Lennon, especially at this point, looks over at McCartney for his high five eyes.
I heard it was George.
EPG, exactly! And even spoilsport George (good one, cdm) is having a blast!
GOD. There is so much here that reduces me yet again to babbling fanboy.
I’ve always loved the look on John’s face of slight embarrassment mixed with his trademark mischievousness when he forgets the words on “Don’t Let Me Down” and just starts singing gobbledygook—it’s at the 5:25 mark.
I love that Ringo, behind him, is laughing happily.
But what’s even better is the look Paul and John share right after as they wordlessly agree to get back on track together.
And that smile on John’s face, one of quietly confident pleasure, of absolutely secure trust in his musical partner, proves—as if we didn’t already have more than enough proof—that John was right on target when he later said that no matter how bad things got between them, whenever they started playing music, it was always good.
But it’s the very brief look John and George share shortly afterwards, during the following chorus, the small nod George gives just before the camera cuts away, that drives home that before the brilliant songwriting, before the groundbreaking studio work, before the unprecedented fame and fortune, they were very simply the finest rock and roll band ever, and ever so much more than the sum of their extraordinary parts.
Funny you should lead with “GOD,” Scott. For anyone who gets hung up on fundamentalism and notions of blasphemy, stop reading this thought now.
I freely joke that music and baseball are my religions. While watching this yesterday, I was thinking, “We are living through the early formation of a religion.” I imagined the people who first documented the life and teachings of Jesus or Buddah or whatever human form of God we know about today. The Beatles, a thousand years from now, could be the center of a religious movement. (And I acknowledge that I’m sounding like Charles Manson here. Sorry.) The authors of the Beatles tomes we have grown up reading, the Books of Lewhison in the works, etc, could be studied hundreds of years ago. This rooftop performance will be like a final Station of the Cross. It’s sick to admit that I think about things like this, but I can’t think of another artist or group or artists around which a religion could thrive. Dylan, for instance, “suffers” from never leaving us, never burning out. He’s like the slow-fade dream that Jesus refuses to live out in The Last Temptation of Christ.
I think Mal called the cops. The whole thing was a set up to put a button on the performance and get them out of there gracefully after completing the prepared set. In fact, the cops were a few minutes late and they had to interrupt a reprise of Get Back.
I think Keith Richards called the cops. A few years before the rooftop concert, Keith Richards called up the parents of his ex-girlfriend Linda Keith to warn them she was dating a junkie musician named Jimi Hendrix. His jealousy has often gotten the better of him. I don’t think suggesting such a thing is that much of a stretch. I think it’s certainly worthy of discussion.
This looks interesting:
https://www.theguardian.com/music/2021/feb/02/the-velvet-mafia-the-gay-men-who-helped-shape-music-in-the-60s
It begins…
The story of rock’n’roll in the 60s has been told countless times by the stars who sang the songs, spun the solos or thrashed the drums. In the UK at the time, that most often meant straight white men, as it did in the US. But the people who shaped and advised those artists – the ones who managed the stars of the classic rock age – were, by an outsized margin, gay men.
That interwoven community included Brian Epstein (who brought the world the Beatles), Kit Lambert (who co-managed the Who), Simon Napier-Bell (the Yardbirds, and a young Marc Bolan), Robert Stigwood (Cream, the Bee Gees), Billy Gaff (Rod Stewart), Ken Pitt (David Bowie), Barry Krost (Cat Stevens), as well as Tony Stratton-Smith (who formed the visionary label Charisma for bands like Genesis). In fact, it was a gay man, Larry Parnes, who svengali-d Britain’s very first rockers, from Tommy Steele to Billy Fury to Marty Wilde…
Geo, please open the link. Most Beatles fans cite the death of Brian Epstein as the beginning of the end. That’s nothing compared to this. A response is needed asap.
http://www.beatlesarchive.net/paul-mccartney-jamming-with-jefferson-airplane.html
Yours in Christ,
E. Pluribus Gergeley
Are you implying that the drop off from Surrealistic Pillow to Baxter’s was McCartney’s fault?
I’m never good on dates: Was Paul dead when this jam session in San Francisco took place?
Wait – Macca plays bass strung for a lefty but guitar he can play upside-down with right-handed stringing? Is that true?
I wondered the same thing, cher!
He probably played borrowed right handed guitars early on before he got a lefty, but started on bass when the Beatles were professional and started right in playing a left handed bass so never got used to it.
I remember a wacky sound guy at the East Side Club that played left handed and could play a right handed guitar flipped. I remember him saying that McCartney could do that.
A cursory look at pics of Mccartney playing bass and guitar shows him playing with “normally” ordered strings. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could play an upside down instrument, but would be surprised if he couldn’t do it with both bass and guitar. Therefore, the more likely explanation was that everyone was high AF.
I’ll post this here, as a follow-up to an especially fanboy-ish thought I shared regarding the Beatles and my sense of religion. I was listening to a recent interview of the bassist by Earth, Wind & Fire – Maurice White’s brother (sorry, I forget his first name) – by Rick Rubin on the Broken Record podcast. I’m not a big fan of EW&F, but the guy was great – a real musician’s musician. Rubin started asking him about the band’s influences, starting with James Brown. White brushed off Brown pretty quickly, saying that they loved Brown’s live show and the rhythms, but they didn’t think he had many songs. Eventually, White steered it to The Beatles. He went on this beautiful thing about how they blew it all open, how they were the fountain that everyone could drink from. He was so articulate and appreciative while talking about them. Rubin was following along. At one point he simply added, “For me, The Beatles were proof of God.”
Word.