“Paul is quitting The Beatles” — UK newspapers break the story

Have the Beatles already split?

HAVE THE BEATLES SPLIT? That’s the million-dollar question puzzling pop people today as the careers of the fabled Fab Four become infinitely more diverse and individual.

Has the world’s greatest group ceased to exist as a personalised working unit? Aside from records—is there still any friendship between John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr? More to the point—will they ever play LIVE again together?

On one front it would seem that there have been some very decided structural changes. It’s known, for instance, that all four Beatles have not spoken together since sometime last summer. And the same applies to the prolific writing team of Lennon and McCartney. Neither has liaised with the other for many months. And, of course, all four haven’t actually appeared in concert together for four years.

With any other group all this would point very obviously at a rift in the ranks. But the Beatles are an exception to everyone’s rules.

WHILE the laconic Lennon, once a reluctant, publicity-shy Beatle, has wholeheartedly hogged the limelight via his Oriental wife, Yoko Ono, his persistent peace pleas, and his beloved Plastic Ono Band—the magical McCartney has become a virtual recluse in his London mansion, out of touch with Allen Klein-controlled Apple empire (Paul hasn’t set foot there for ages), and almost entirely incommunicado with his colleagues.

In fact, when he surprised everyone and broke his long silence the other day and actually rang Apple, he confessed he was nervous and uncertain of things. At home, in splendid isolation save for wife, Linda, and family, Paul has become very much a husband and father figure. And his writing—that extraordinary talent which turns out gems like “Yesterday,” “Michelle” and “Hey Jude”—is reserved for apparently rare solo recording sessions at his home studio.

His only real contact with Apple has been via Badfinger, the group he appears to have adopted as his own. He even confessed at one of their sessions, as he sat twiddling the knobs in the control box, that record production was rapidly becoming an important part of him.

THEN there’s Harrison—like Lennon, very much a busy Beatle these days. He’s always at Apple, either supervising sessions by HIS stars like Billy Preston, Jackie Lomax, Doris Troy and the happy-go-lucky Hare Krishnas; or developing the very distinct writing flair which has emerged through things like “Something” and “Here Comes The Sun”—and will be spotlighted even more obviously on the forthcoming “Get Back” album.

George, they say at Apple, will only permit himself to be part-Beatle these days. He will, for example, revert to the old image only in rare moments of nostalgia. His unexpected appearance with John as part of the Plastic Ono Band at London’s Lyceum before Christmas (and subsequently on the new POB single, “Instant Karma”) was totally unpremeditated, and even then he was a reluctant Beatle—staying tucked in the shadows playing guitar at the elbow of his friend, Eric Clapton.

RINGO will always be a Beatle. The fans will keep him that way. And he’s happy being one. Even if he isn’t instrumentally a Beatle—either in the studio or at Apple’s big business (“I just go along and raise my hand at meetings when I have to”) he’ll always retain his Beatle image… friendly, forthright and still enormously enthusiastic about everything.

The Beatles have been good to Ringo and he’s determined that whatever happens the name will NOT die.

He is intelligent and realises that beating the Beatles drums is a job anyone can do equally well, so he’s shrewdly surveyed the scene and channelled his career at the big-screen. He’s also a happy husband and devoted dad. Wife, Maureen, and sons, Zak and Jason, come even before being Ringo.

So we’re left with Lennon. The Beatles boss, once the group’s guiding light, a prophet-like leader who must inevitably become the “Beatle Who’ll Be Remembered.” He’s carved himself a chapter in British history.

Even if Paul IS thought by many to be the only person with the REAL Beatles at heart, it is Lennon who will ultimately make it all happen again. He said the night of that memorable Lyceum get-together that he wasn’t a Beatle anymore. He—and all of us—were the Plastic Ono Band… and evermore should be so. But deep down he’s a Beatle as much as the others.

He is, however, impatient for things to happen. If we’re not Beatles today, he says, let’s be something else! “Instant Karma” could quite easily have been a Beatles single… but there wasn’t time. John wouldn’t wait. So it became a POB release. And if it wasn’t the POB John would have formed another group.

If he really felt like it Lennon could kill off the Beatles today. Stamp on them, trample them, grind them underfoot. He knows he started them (as the Quarrymen)—and therefore it’s his privilege to end them. But he won’t. Because, despite all, they basically enjoy being Beatles.

However far they may stray from each other—and there’s a feeling that the circle has been completed—there will always be a time again when they will Come Together!

From Disc And Music Echo – February 14, 1970

Paul McCartney – The truth

THE story which hit the national papers last weekend, saying that Paul McCartney is definitely leaving the Beatles, was possibly the non-event of the year.

It resulted from an interview which the Apple press office organised with Paul (the only interview he’s given in years), and which was circularised to all the national and music papers.

In it, Paul mentions that he will set up a company called McCartney Productions, that he doesn’t have any plans for recording in the future with the Beatles, and that he has musical, personal, and business difficulties with the others.

So what else is new? All these facts existed at the time of “Abbey Road,” but it didn’t stop that album being made. Why should he have plans to record with the Beatles? They’ve all got so many of their own things to do, they’re waiting for the “Let It Be/Get Back” album to come out, and there’s some fairly recent surplus material in the vaults if they want to put another single out.

The whole point about this highly contrived furore is that, when the Beatles do eventually stop working together, there will be no question of a time or a place.

It will be something that simply happens, a natural growth process over a period of time. There’s bound to come a time when they won’t be the Beatles any more, but no-one, probably not even themselves, will recognise it when it comes.

Paul’s antipathy towards the Klein-controlled Apple is well known, as is the fact that he wanted his father-in-law, attorney Lee Eastman, to fill the job that Klein got. When Paul was out-voted three to one, bitterness prevailed.

It’s difficult to see why Paul doesn’t get on with Klein. Klein has already blown the cobwebs out of the company (a policy with which the businesslike Paul surely agrees), and has succeeded remarkably in increasing the royalties the group get from their records.

On the face of it, then, Paul’s distrust of the man is irrational, and the only visible motive is family loyalty, honourable but scarcely characteristically hard-headed. The formation of McCartney Productions will change nothing at Apple, which will continue to represent him simply as a Beatle.

Paul also states that he won’t write any more songs with John. That’s hardly surprising, considering that it’s years since they truly collaborated on a song, and it doesn’t rule out their recent practice of one helping the other out on a song that’s got stuck somewhere.

One interesting sidelight is the Lennon/McCartney songwriting “partnership.” All the songs written by the pair, separately and together, have been credited to both, but recently “Cold Turkey” and “Instant Karma” have been credited to Lennon alone, while Paul’s album states simply “Written and produced by Paul McCartney.”

It’s about time that happened, and it will be interesting to see how any further Beatle songs will be credited. My guess is that they’ll continue to use the old system, with its 50-50 financial implications, on the group’s records, while their separate projects will bear their own names.

It’s only natural for John not to like some of Paul’s songs (“Maxwell’s Silver Hammer,” for instance); he can still dig others (like “Let It Be”). It would be hard to imagine two more diametrically opposed characters, and Paul gives the lie to their supposed mutual hatred when, in the interview, he says: “I love John, and respect what he does.”

How could it be any other way? The members of the family may have their squabbles, but they’ve been through too much together for them ever to make a complete split. Their little habit of sending each other postcards, for no other reason than to keep in touch, is an example of this kind of brotherhood.

They may not agree with one another about very many things, but the feeling is still there, and it may again bear fruit. And if it doesn’t, why should we complain? It isn’t going to stop them making music.

AND THAT ALBUM…

WHILE John rings up his mates and asks them to have a blow on some rock and roll songs and Ringo hires the best Hollywood arrangers that money can buy, Paul McCartney is sitting at home singing his little modern folk songs into a brand-new four-track, with Linda providing a wifely harmony.

His first solo album (“McCartney” — Parlophone PCS 7102) is not, with one or two exceptions, the carefully-crafted and smoothly-produced statement one might have expected. For most of the trip it’s just a man alone in a small recording studio fiddling around with a few half-written songs and a load of instruments. It’s good to know that he’s human.

With this record, his debt to George Martin becomes increasingly clear. No one who wasn’t there will ever know, but Martin’s orchestral cushionings must have been vital to the success of many of the Beatles’ songs, and Paul’s compositions are the ones which have always seemed to require the greatest amount of adornment.

“McCartney” contains the best and worst of an extraordinary talent. “Maybe I’m Amazed” would have become a classic, had it been included on, say, “Abbey Road.” Using the full facilities of EMI’s eight-track (Paul plays all the instruments throughout), he builds a typically exultant sound, topped off by stunning guitar and his best rock voice. On the other hand, there’s “Man We Was Lonely,” which is sheer banality. If it had been sung by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich I (and you) would’ve sneered and turned it off. It’s the worst example of his music-hall side.

From Melody Maker – April 17, 1970