With the Beatles

by Alistair Taylor

  The lads were so determined to be cool about the whole experience that they’d never admit it, but in fact I’ve never seen them so nervous. John was deeply impressed by the beauty of the Palace and he loved having flunkeys to open the door for him. But he knew the perfect way to relax his nerves, and that was by smoking a joint in the Buckingham Palace toilets. The others joined in, according to John and, in fact, by the time they came to meet the Queen, they were giggling and on the way to being out of their heads. Presumably, her Majesty put the mirth down to nerves. George later insisted that they had only smoked cigarettes but John admitted to me that they had all smoked reefers.

  In fact, John also had a couple of tabs of acid with him. He told me just afterwards that he had planned to slip it into the Queen’s tea just to liven up proceedings. He seemed serious but with John it was always hard to tell. He said it would be a blast if he could make the Queen feel as if she was flying and he was determined to sneak the tab into whatever she was drinking. ‘I want to open her mind and try and get her to declare war on somewhere nice and warm so we can all go and fight on the beaches. Or perhaps she’ll set free everyone in prison and send Harold Wilson to the Tower.’

  Brian never knew any of this because it would have driven him to distraction. He had an enormous job trying to persuade John to receive the medal. John honestly thought it was hypocritical of him to accept. He hated official ceremonies of any kind because he felt they were false and phoney and drugs were his way of getting through the day.

  At least John turned up at the Palace. That was more than he managed at the Ivor Novello Awards at London’s Savoy Hotel. I got a panic call from Brian at the office at 11.00am on the day of the ceremony. Did I know that John and Paul were due at the Savoy at 12.30pm for the premier British song-writing award? Yes, of course I did, it was in the diary. The only problem was that Brian had insisted he was going to tell the boys and he had uncharacteristically forgotten. Could I get them there on time? I said it was impossible but that wasn’t a word Brian understood. The idea of delivering a public snub to the whole of the music and entertainment establishment was simply unthinkable. Just get them there on time, Alistair. Oh and don’t tell them that the panic is because I forgot. Invent some cover story, please.

  In Brian-speak, this translated as ‘accept the blame for the mistake yourself and pretend that you forgot’. John was out at home in Weybridge so I rang him first as he had further to travel. At least, he would have had if he’d had the slightest intention of going anywhere. My explanation about the last-minute call to the Savoy sounded desperately lame so I was hardly surprised when the Lennon response was a brief ‘Fuck off,’ followed by the line going dead.

  That left Paul. The telephone rang in the elegant Asher household in Wimpole Street for what seemed like an age. I knew Paul and Jane had been out late the night before and, as the phone rang and rang, my heart sank further into my boots. Eventually Jane’s charming but very protective mother answered. I know it sounds hard to believe, but I don’t think Paul and Jane were sleeping together at home at that stage. She couldn’t possibly disturb Paul as early as this, whatever the crisis. Could I ring back later? My blood pressure rose by several points but I had no alternative but to wait and ring back later. All the time, I could imagine the guests arriving at the Savoy happy in the knowledge they would soon be seeing the two song-writing Beatles in person.

  I left it until midday, and rang back and this time I firmly insisted that Mrs Asher wake Paul – please. She reluctantly agreed and a minute or so later a sleepy and very grumpy Paul came on the phone. I burbled out the story I had been practising for the past hour and there was then a very long pause from the other end of the line. For a horrible moment or two, I was terrified he had gone back to sleep. But then Paul said, ‘OK, be round in a cab to pick me up in ten minutes’ time.’ Thank you, Paul, I thought, and when my taxi arrived at Wimpole Street about 15 minutes later there was Paul to answer the door holding a piece of toast but he was suited and booted and ready to go.

  ‘What’s the problem? Do I ever let you down?’ said his super-cool expression. But we were still late and by the time the cab struggled through the busy lunchtime traffic it was a quarter to one and the organisers were starting to get very worried indeed. I was so fired up by then I manhandled Paul through the pack of reporters and photographers so he was able to get to his seat on the top table just as lunch was about to start. Phew. But my ordeal wasn’t over. Paul insisted that I had to have John’s seat and share the glittering company of David Frost, Billy Butlin and others. I know they wondered who on earth I was but by then I didn’t care. I’d got one Beatle there on time.

  10

  THE BEGINNING OF THE END

  As 1966 began, we knew the Beatles were changing. They were older and richer and more confident and they were becoming tired of their boxes. The old days of Brian pushing them into night-after-night live performances were on the way out. But no one knew at that stage that by the summer their reign at the world’s greatest live entertainers would be over for good. Brian was concerned that he was losing control and he agreed to allow the Beatles their longest break. They did not give any live performances at all until 1 May. And that concert, a 15-minute set at the New Musical Express Annual Poll-Winners All-Star Concert at the Empire Pool, Wembley, was the last concert appearance the Beatles were to make in Britain.

  After Wembley, Brian had organised a tour of West Germany, Japan, the Philippines and the United States for the summer and a tour of Britain was promised for the autumn. The Beatles returned to Hamburg, for the first time since their extraordinary fame had blossomed, and found themselves fêted by their original fans. It was great nostalgic fun, but after that it was downhill fast. Hurricane Kit interrupted the flight to Japan and the pilot was forced to divert to Anchorage in Alaska. An illustration of the Beatles’ popularity arrived when 400 Alaskan Beatles fans besieged the boys in their temporary hotel rooms. George said, ‘There’s just nowhere we can go on the planet and not be stared at.’

  In Japan, the Beatles flew into massive protests as thousands of demonstrators jammed the streets to insist that pop music should not be played in the sacred Nippon Budokan, which was the venue for five Beatles shows in three days. Eventually, a massive policing operation allowed the concerts to go ahead but the military-style backdrop hardly produced the most memorable performances from the boys.

  But the strife in Japan was nothing compared to the chaos that awaited the Beatles in the Philippines. The boys were invited to a reception organised in their honour at the Malacanang Palace by President Marcos and his colourful first lady Imelda. Their children were Beatles fans, it seemed. The only trouble was that we knew almost nothing about this reception.

  An official from the palace arrived at the hotel to collect the Beatles. They were all still in bed and Brian firmly refused to wake them. We thought nothing more of it until next day when we woke to screaming headlines about Imelda being stood up and the Beatles insulting the whole of the country with their churlish snub. Brian was horrified and he blamed the promoter for not properly passing on the invitation, but by then it was too late. The damage was done.

  We got bomb threats and death threats as the stories of how the presidential party and their 400 guests were kept waiting by the Beatles. The promoter announced he was withholding the payment for the concerts. Then the authorities weighed in and insisted we could not leave the country until the tax on the money we hadn’t been paid was forthcoming. Brian taped an apology to be broadcast on Philippine television but mysteriously a burst of static prevented it from being seen. We decided to pay the money and run. But that was not as easy as it sounded. Security became distinctly lacklustre and the Beatles party were jostled and kicked as they left the hotel for the airport. The airport manager got in on the anti-Beatles act by leaving the party to fend for itself against an increasingly angry mob. The escalators stopped and this made it more difficult for the party to carry their bagga
ge upstairs. The boys were pushed and shoved and Brian was knocked over at one point in a frightening ordeal. The boys were booed all the way and even when they got on the plane, the authorities insisted they were not going to be allowed to leave. There was an agonising stand-off for 45 minutes before it was finally allowed to take off for New Delhi via Bangkok.

  The Beatles were absolutely furious that they had been exposed to such danger. Brian suffered a sprained ankle but the earache he received from the boys was much more painful. Brian was distraught. Even in India they were besieged by fans and became more and more truculent and homesick. When they arrived back at London Airport on 8 July, George Harrison was asked what was next on the schedule. He said prophetically, ‘We have a couple of weeks to recuperate before we go and get beaten up by the Americans.’

  There is a very funny thing about showbusiness. Just when you think things cannot get worse, they do. The whole Far Eastern experience upset Brian and it changed his relationship with the boys. Brian was left feeling quite ill and had gone off to Portmeirion in North Wales to convalesce. He had gone up in his Rolls with his chauffeur. Suddenly, the story broke that John Lennon had said the Beatles were more popular than Jesus and all hell was let loose.

  The quote had been taken from an Evening Standard interview that had been published five months earlier in Britain to absolutely no reaction. But an American teenage magazine called Datebook had used the material again under a syndication agreement. Only they had taken John’s quotes completely out of context and splashed a trailer on the front page that LENNON SAYS THE BEATLES ARE GREATER THAN JESUS. In fact, what he had actually been saying was, ‘Isn’t it pathetic that we can pull bigger crowds than Christ can?’

  The reaction spread across the United States like a forest fire with the most heated fury occurring down in the southern Bible Belt. Scores of radio stations announced they were banning Beatles records and people started organising bonfires to burn Beatles-related merchandise. A so-called ‘holy war’ against the Beatles erupted. In Mississippi, an imperial wizard of the dreaded Ku Klux Klan said he believed that the Beatles had been brainwashed by the Communist Party.

  I couldn’t get Brian on the telephone and the news from America was terrible. The Bible Belt was up in arms, the Ku Klux Klan were involved and the whole thing was a step away from a full diplomatic incident. I couldn’t cope with this. It was a week before the Beatles’ fourth American tour and I was getting panic phone calls to say that the boys would be lynched if they turned up. Television news bulletins were full of coverage from the Southern states with people hurling records on to huge bonfires and politicians and priests delivering threats of divine retribution. It was Beatlemania in reverse and all the more frightening. Brian finally rang me and I had to arrange to get him back from North Wales to London and over to America as quickly as possible.

  I organised a private plane from a little airport called Hawarden. It was a difficult time for flights because it was the summer. TWA were on strike. We were using Pan-Am and the planes were all booked solid and there was a waiting list. We gave Pan-Am a lot of business so I pulled a few strings and we found Brian a first-class seat. Getting him to the plane proved more difficult. His driver got lost in the Welsh mountains and he was terribly late arriving at Heathrow, so I found myself having to persuade the airport authorities to let this little plane land on the main runway right next to the Pan-Am jet. The head of Air Traffic Control had about 100 reasons why this was not possible. I tried to explain this was a matter of life and death and involved the future of the Beatles, and fortunately he was a fan. I could have kissed him when he screwed up his face and said, ‘Well, all right then. Just this once.’ The pilot was so astonished the landing instructions had to be repeated to him no less than six times. Brian was very apologetic when he arrived but even then there was another panic when he got on the Pan-Am plane and then realised he had forgotten his tablets. He had to take one every three hours on strict instructions from his doctor. They were in his suitcase! So I then had to persuade Pan-Am to let me get Brian’s Gucci suitcases out on the tarmac and search frantically through them for his precious pills with a plane-load of impatient people watching me. It was not exactly my greatest moment but I found them and Brian and the much-delayed jet were able to take off.

  He went to America to try to save the situation. He offered to cancel the tour but nobody really wanted that. Brian left me at Heathrow saying, ‘Look after the boys. Tell them it will be all right. I’ll sort it out.’ I went back into town and we had a meeting. I have never seen them so scared. There had been loads of death threats before but they had never seemed that serious. All of a sudden, the four of them realised what massive targets they were for any loony with a gun. And America is not exactly short of those. Lennon was absolutely shit-scared. They all were. I remember the way they made it clear they were totally together on this. They didn’t blame John at all because he had been completely misinterpreted. At that meeting, they were all for pulling out of the tour. John said, ‘Does Brian really want the tour to go ahead with all these nutters promising death and destruction? It’s our fucking lives on the line. We don’t want to go to America.’

  I was scared for Brian because I knew he was a potential target as well. On the morning of their flight to America, they really didn’t want to get on that plane. It was a very scary time. It brought home to all of the Beatles how very vulnerable they were. For all the millions of people who adored them, the Beatles knew that there were a sad, mad few who would like nothing more than to blow them away. John took to carrying a gun around for a while which caused a few problems. I think if he had ever needed to use it, he would have been more of a danger to himself than to anyone else.

  The Beatles’ opening press conference took place up on the twenty-seventh floor of the Astor Towers Hotel in Chicago and should have been the usual jokey affair with the boys wisecracking their way through it in their usual easy-going style. But the Jesus affair had set a new agenda. John was to be made to apologise, but that wasn’t easy. There was a lot of pressure on John and he broke down beforehand. He told me afterwards that he realised for the first time then that he wasn’t as tough as he thought he was. ‘I never wanted to retract a frigging word,’ he said. ‘It was all true. I was just saying how crazy it was that the Beatles had becoming more popular than Jesus. But then this massive row kicked off and they kept accusing me of blasphemy. To be honest, I never gave a shit what they accused me of but I imagined some religious nutter would take a shot at one of us and that would be all down to me. I didn’t want that so I went through with saying sorry.’

  In the press conference, John struggled to justify himself but he was on the spot and in the end he had to say the one word which he always found hard to drag out – sorry. But anyone who was at that press conference knew that sorrow was the last thing John Lennon felt about that affair.

  John Lennon did not think he had done a damn thing wrong and they just about had to drag the words out of him for once. And if you listen to the apology, it was very half-hearted. John just about got away with it, but if you ever look at that famous footage you can see John Lennon wasn’t sorry about anything.

  It was not a happy tour. There were stadium invasions and Ku Klux Klan demonstrations that tarnished the Beatles image. And, more frighteningly, on 19 August, there was an anonymous telephone call that said one or all the Beatles would be shot during the two shows that day in Memphis. During the second show, a firecracker was thrown on to the stage and the four Beatles were all scared stiff. They were playing huge venues to make as much money as possible with the least effort and sometimes, even in America, their amazing pulling power sagged a little. Shea Stadium was left with 10,000 unsold tickets when they had easily sold out all 55,000 the year before. Revolver had just been released and the new music was more demanding than the earlier songs. Not all the fans liked this musical advance.

  The boys themselves were desperately frustrated. John opened up to
me about the agonies of touring. ‘What is the point of standing there just for people to scream at us. They can’t hear us, they can hardly see us. And the whole mad business of hurtling round the world protected by security men and police is driving me out of my mind. 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. What are we doing this for?’

  That whole incident was the start for the Beatles of the fear that fame brings. Until then, they had been scared mainly of the prospect of being pulled limb from limb by hysterical teenage girls. That doesn’t sound so frightening until you’ve seen a few thousand of them on the rampage. It is honestly terrifying because the crowd builds up a sort of energy and momentum of its own. Of course, a few young girls are nothing for a grown man to worry about, but there would be streets full of them all whipped up into a frenzy and all desperate for a piece of their favourite Beatle.

  ‘I never thought I’d run away from attractive young women,’ said Ringo laconically one day. ‘But by the time they actually get near us, they seem to be completely out of their brains. I reckon if we’d used this lot in the war, we’d have overrun Germany in about a fortnight.’

  But the more sinister threats from religious groups, lone fanatics or any fired-up fruitcake began to prey on all their minds from then on.

  Cynthia was very frightened about what might happen to Julian. She realised he was a prime kidnap target and she installed guards who watched the house very early on. John objected at first because he didn’t like anybody watching what time he came in, but even he saw the wisdom of it.