Interview for Record Mirror • Saturday, September 13, 1975
Interview
THEY DID the little rehearsals at Rye and the big ones at Elstree Film Studios. We’re at Elstree now, to witness one of the last big rehearsals in Studio Five – “A nice place,” says McCartney, “they made Murder On The Orient Express here” – and the roadies are bustling to get things right.
Wings are already present and correct – Joe English tuning his drums, Jimmy McCulloch in the tea room, Linda shouting instructions to one called Maurice (or maybe Morris) and Paul tete-a-tete-ing with Denny Laine. Denny’s nodding and Paul gesticulating — arms up, down, out, in — what are they talking about?
Guitars are strapped, seats taken, then doodle-drums. doodle-fills, doodle-pips, and off they go. The rehearsal’s begun. Da-da-da-da-dada-da-da, Linda brings in Venus And Mars. Of course, it’s easy, but even the man applying Wedgewood blue emulsion to the studio doors stops painting.
“There’s a ROCK SHOW at the Concertgebouw…” oo-ee are they good! Chords are plucked like ripe plums, fat and juicy, they all look pleased. Each number gets one play for a long, long while until Bluebird, where the rhythm box runs too fast. Five times they go through it, then on again, one number one play. Some tour this is going to be.
After two hours it’s all through. “What did you think?” Asks Paul.
The new numbers sound good.
“There’s my boy. It’s sounding good to us. We’re just playing it, learning it, hoping for the best…”
But what about the old ones, do you get fed up having to do them?
“Yes, a little bit, but not really. In all truth probably all of us would enjoy it more if we would get up there and just totally jam.”
They don’t jam. The nearest they come to it is with a couple of medleys, each stringing together three numbers.
“Yes, it’s just for a bit of a change. If you write three or four-minute songs like I do, you do get the feeling that’s a little bitty. Eventually, we may lengthen some of them, who knows? You see, we’re just really starting. We’ve got enough guitars to open a guitar shop and we’re just going out on the road singing and playing – and that’s all we’re thinking.”
Rehearsing with the basic line-up are a four-piece brass section.
“It’ll come with us throughout the British tour and, if it works out well, we’ll take it on afterwards.”
The British tour opens September 9 and, once it’s over, they’ll be having some time off going on to Australia, New Zealand, Japan and, later, America.
“We’ll be doing something during the time off. The idea is always to keep playing once we’ve rehearsed, because if you lay off for a few months you’ve got to rehearse it all up again. We may play a couple of gigs in that time – pop over to the Continent or something, but mainly I’ll be writing and doing my usual stuff — sitting at home and playing and having fun.”
It’s good to hear Paul about “fun” again, after the winding-up of the Beatles period, which he’s described as “pure hell“.
“The trouble was I couldn’t pay anyone. All my money was locked up. I had to keep saying to Denny: ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get your money from Band On The Run. you’ll just have to trust me’, which is a terrible thing to have to say to someone, because everyone likes a deal and to see what they’re getting. Denny was cool, he just hung there.
“Now the real money everyone’s earning is beginning to come through, so everyone’s a little bit happier — not that everyone’s money crazy, but it was a little bit awkward. It’s awkward asking them to trust me when they don’t know me — not really, yet. Denny does, Jimmy a bit and… er… Linda knows me quite well!”
For a moderately successful musician, without ties, to up and off on a tour is probably a pleasurable prospect. but how does it feel when you’re a millionaire family man?
“I love it,” says Paul. “Our family’s quite adaptable — any second it could go gypsy.”
But what about schooling?
“Well, the eldest one’s the main concern. We take her with us some of the way and get someone
