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12 episodes with Richard Lester
3 episodes with Richard Lester
2 episodes with Richard Lester
6 episodes with Richard Lester
2 episodes with Richard Lester
6 episodes with Richard Lester
4 episodes with Richard Lester
3 episodes with Richard Lester
2 episodes with Richard Lester
In this episode of the show we are concluding our July adventure with Richard Lester with a double header of Superman II and Superman III. Over the course of our conversation you will hear us talk about how Superman II wrote the playbook for a comic book movie sequel, how it humanizes Superman while also further denuding the many problems this character will continue to have in future movies. We talked about Lester's absurdist vibes creeping into the operation and blossoming in the third sequel, Richard Pryor as a comic relief villain and how to make Superman evil all you need to do is ask him not to shave for a day and give him eyeliner. Tune in and enjoy!Hosts: Jakub Flasz & Randy BurrowsIntro: Infraction - CassetteOutro: Infraction - DaydreamHead over to uncutgemspodcast.com to find all of our archival episodes and more!Follow us on Twitter (@UncutGemsPod), IG (@UncutGemsPod) and Facebook (@UncutGemsPod)Buy us a coffee over at Ko-Fi.com (ko-fi.com/uncutgemspod)Subscribe to our Patreon! (patreon.com/uncutgemspod)
In this episode of the show we are tying into our Richard Lester conversations with a debate about the seminal comic book movie, the Richard Donner-directed Superman. Over the course of our conversation you will hear us talk about the ways in which Superman wrote the playbook for what later became a comic book movie genre, how the many cuts of the movie that are in existence complicate the plot, and how Christopher Reeve was perhaps the perfect casting for the role of the Man of Steel. We also talk about Hackman's Lex Luthor functioning as a de facto Bond villain, how the movie is perhaps too goofy for its own good at times, how the Krypton sequence in the TV cut is long enough to be considered its own disaster movie and how Richard Donner sounded as though he invented the word "verisimilitude."Tune in and enjoy!Subscribe to our patreon at patreon.com/uncutgemspod (3$/month) and support us by gaining access to this show in full in addition to ALL of our exclusive podcasts, such as bonus tie-ins, themed retrospectives and director marathons!Hosts: Jakub Flasz & Randy BurrowsHead over to our website to find out more! (uncutgemspodcast.com)Follow us on Twitter (@UncutGemsPod) and IG (@UncutGemsPod)Buy us a coffee over at Ko-Fi.com (ko-fi.com/uncutgemspod)Subscribe to our Patreon (patreon.com/uncutgemspod)
In this episode of the show we are discussing another off-kilter Richard Lester movie, the 1979 Cuba. Over the course of our conversation you will hear us talk about how this movie connects to Casablanca and The Battle of Algiers, how important it is to make sure the chemistry between two romantic leads is undeniably there and whether the post-Bond Sean Connery was the man to evoke it. We also talk about how Lester finds frightening absurdity in the reality of pre-evolution Cuba, how the movie wants to be Dr. No for a brief second and how narrative indecision may be its undoing. Tune in and enjoy!Hosts: Jakub Flasz & Randy BurrowsFeaturing: Jak-Luke SharpIntro: Infraction - CassetteOutro: Infraction - DaydreamHead over to uncutgemspodcast.com to find all of our archival episodes and more!Follow us on Twitter (@UncutGemsPod), IG (@UncutGemsPod) and Facebook (@UncutGemsPod)Buy us a coffee over at Ko-Fi.com (ko-fi.com/uncutgemspod)Subscribe to our Patreon! (patreon.com/uncutgemspod)
“It was like hitching a ride on a shooting star: a fantastic experience that caused immense pain, but I'm glad I had it…That sort of experience doesn't come twice.”Except when it does.You know the story, you know the songs, but there's so much more to the woman behind them. Episode three of the Dolls Pod Beatle Girl Miniseries is dedicated to rock-and-roll's Helen of Troy: Pattie Boyd. Pattie's story is a lot more than meets the eye. She broke generational cycles, gained her independence (the hard way,) discovered her self-worth, and finally found herself after decades of living in song. (Plus: Abby hears 99 Luftbaloons in a bagel shop and goes straight to Emma for the story.) Pattie Boyd: The Real-Life Layla is up now, wherever you stream your podcasts
Welcome to the original Snyder Cut! Well, kind of....Released in 2006, Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut is a re-edited director's cut of Superman II (1980). In fact, the edits are so dramatic that it is like watching an entirely different movie.The back story is that Superman I and II were being filmed simultaneously, but prior to the completion of Superman II, the director (Richard Donner) was unceremoniously fired and replaced by Richard Lester, who completed the second movie. Come join us as we look at both versions!
In honor of the James Gunn Superman, we continue our Supermonth! This week on Myopia Movies, we leap tall plot holes in a single bound and confront the chaos of Superman II (1980)—a sequel caught in a tug-of-war between two directors, studio meddling, and a trio of space fascists in disco pajamas. We ask: Does the Man of Steel's second outing still soar, or does it crash under the weight of tonal whiplash, questionable powers, and a very random kiss of forgetfulness? Join us as we revisit the strange saga behind the scenes, mourn the Donner cut that could have been, and try to figure out how cellophane chest symbols became an acceptable weapon. Tune in, or kneel before Zod. Make sure to like and subscribe wherever you are getting this! Please leave us a review and follow us everywhere! How will Superman II (1980) hold up? Host: Nic Panel: Alex, Keiko, Matthew Directed by: Richard Lester – after Richard Donner was fired Starring: Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder, Gene Hackman, Terence Stamp, Sarah Douglas
In this episode of the show, probably one of the shortest on record, we continue our Richard Lester conversations by talking about one of his period epics, Robin and Marian. Over the course of our chat you will hear us talk about how on paper this movie works as an intellectual subversion of the swashbuckling genre and how in reality it only gets to buckle a few swashes. We also talk about Richard Lester's interest in period filmmaking and whether his dual interest in absurdity adds to the tonal dissonance permeating the movie, Sean Connery and Audrey Hepburn attempting to generate some chemistry and more. Tune in and enjoy!Hosts: Jakub Flasz & Randy BurrowsIntro: Infraction - CassetteOutro: Infraction - DaydreamHead over to uncutgemspodcast.com to find all of our archival episodes and more!Follow us on Twitter (@UncutGemsPod), IG (@UncutGemsPod) and Facebook (@UncutGemsPod)Buy us a coffee over at Ko-Fi.com (ko-fi.com/uncutgemspod)Subscribe to our Patreon! (patreon.com/uncutgemspod)
In honor of the James Gunn Superman, we continue our Supermonth! This week on Myopia Movies, we leap tall plot holes in a single bound and confront the chaos of Superman II (1980)—a sequel caught in a tug-of-war between two directors, studio meddling, and a trio of space fascists in disco pajamas. We ask: Does the Man of Steel's second outing still soar, or does it crash under the weight of tonal whiplash, questionable powers, and a very random kiss of forgetfulness? Join us as we revisit the strange saga behind the scenes, mourn the Donner cut that could have been, and try to figure out how cellophane chest symbols became an acceptable weapon. Tune in, or kneel before Zod. Make sure to like and subscribe wherever you are getting this! Please leave us a review and follow us everywhere! How will Superman II (1980) hold up? Host: Nic Panel: Alex, Keiko, Matthew Directed by: Richard Lester – after Richard Donner was fired Starring: Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder, Gene Hackman, Terence Stamp, Sarah Douglas
It's that time, gang! James Gunn's SUPERMAN is finally here, and Evan and Megan saw it. Is it good? Is it an origin story? Is it better than SUPERMAN IV: THE QUEST FOR PEACE? Do they like the dog? Does David Corenswet hold his own against Christopher Reeve's legacy? Evan and Megan have lots to say, and they also have some observations about Richard Donner's SUPERMAN (1978) and Richard Lester's SUPERMAN II (1980). Then Dave joins Evan and Megan for BRICK, a German thriller about a mysterious brick wall that appears in the night and strands a grieving young couple inside their apartment building, where they're eventually joined by Airbnbers, an old, his grandaughter, and a conspiracy theorist. There are a lot of tropes (and charitably, homages) and we break them all down. Over on Patreon, we watched the 1992 Val Kilmer film THUNDERHEART.
Neste episódio, depois de umas pequenas férias não planeadas, voltamos à rubrica Versão do Realizador, desta vez com ‘Superman II'. Com a estreia de mais uma revisão do clássico super-herói oriundo de Krypton à porta, desta vez pela mão de James Gunn, aproveito para falar das novelas por detrás das câmaras que, depois do sucesso de ‘Superman' de 1978, levou ao despedimento de Richard Donner da produção da sequela, tendo sido substituído por Richard Lester. É um momento fascinante da história do cinema comercial norte-americano e, em 2006, tivemos um vislumbre do que poderia ter sido a versão do realizador original, substancialmente diferente do filme que vimos em 1981, com a edição no mercado caseiro de ‘Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut'. Para me ajudar nesta conversa convidei Daniel Louro e Paulo Fajardo, a dupla do premiado podcast VHS, um dos meus podcasts preferidos produzidos sobre cinema em Português. Se gostas do podcast, segue-me nas redes sociais! Estou no YouTube, onde encontras também este episódio seguindo esta ligação, no Letterboxd, no Instagram, no Facebook e agora também no BlueSky. A tua ajuda faz toda a diferença, por isso interage, comenta e partilha para fazer crescer a comunidade Segundo Take. Encontra aqui todos os links onde podemos continuar esta conversa sobre cinema: Site: https://www.segundotake.com/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@segundotake Letterboxd: https://letterboxd.com/segundotake/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/segundotakepodcast Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/segundotake/ BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/segundotake.com Substack: https://substack.com/@segundotake Desde já, obrigado pelo teu apoio! Tema ‘Wonder Cycle' interpretado por Chris Zabriskie sob a licença CC BY 3.0
In this episode of the show we are embarking on a July expedition into the cinema of Richard Lester and we shall begin by talking about his 1974 cruise ship thriller Juggernaut. Over the course of our conversation you will hear us debate (because it seems to be one our favourite pastimes recently) whether this movie fits into the legacy of 70s disaster movies, how it leverages the authenticity of its era and how it heralds the arrival of action-packed docu-thrillers. We also talk about Richard Harris as a bomb disposal expert, the comedy of playing parlor games on a ship in inclement weather, the concept of running two stories in parallel and how in many ways this movie is a protoplast to such great classics as Die Hard, Under Siege and... Speed 2: Cruise Control.Tune in and enjoy!Hosts: Jakub Flasz & Randy BurrowsFeaturing: Rich FosterIntro: Infraction - CassetteOutro: Infraction - DaydreamHead over to uncutgemspodcast.com to find all of our archival episodes and more!Follow us on Twitter (@UncutGemsPod), IG (@UncutGemsPod) and Facebook (@UncutGemsPod)Buy us a coffee over at Ko-Fi.com (ko-fi.com/uncutgemspod)Subscribe to our Patreon! (patreon.com/uncutgemspod)
You'll believe a man can sigh as Supergeeks Javi, Paul and - indestructibly - Producer Brad discover the third time's not the charm with Superman III, though it does offer one unforgettable high-concept scene (and a truly funny setup and payoff). Our hosts boldly bend format this episode by picking three scenes each to examine (one of which may or may not involve bowling vandalism via Super-sneeze) as they struggle to maintain their sanity against the artificial Kryptonite of this threequel's seemingly never-ending inanities. In stark contrast to the wonders that Rocky III rewarded us with by adding iconic adversary Mr. T (as recounted in our very first episode!), here we get Superman vs. Supercomputer (that's an Atari) as programming prodigy Richard Pryor is extorted into villainy by evil tycoon Robert Vaughn. Despite their combined talents (and a psychic nutritionist stand-in for Miss Teschmacher), they are no Lex Luthor, just as director Richard Lester is no Richard Donner (and composer Ken Thorne is no John Williams). Still, while Margot Kidder's Lois Lane is conspicuously sidelined for most of the film, we're treated to Annette O'Toole's lovely Lana Lang, and Christopher Reeve gets to play a creepy, scuzzy new character (Man of Heel?). You will not believe a man can ski off a skyscraper and survive, but you will enjoy this episode full of love for Superman and our hosts' entertaining exasperation at this misguided misfire. 1983 Box OfficeJuly 8, 1983 Weekend Box OfficeSuperman III Box Office ResultsRichard Pryor's 1981 appearance on The Tonight Show displaying his Superman fandom.Follow us!InstagramBlueskyemail: Multiplexoverthruster@gmail.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Charles Skaggs & Xan Sprouse watch Superman III, the 1983 superhero film directed by Richard Lester, and starring Christopher Reeve as Superman/Clark Kent, Richard Pryor as Gus Gorman, Annette O'Toole as Lana Lang, and Robert Vaughn as Ross Webster! Find us here:X/Twitter: @DrunkCinemaCast, @CharlesSkaggs, @udanax19 Facebook: @DrunkCinema Bluesky: @charlesskaggs.bsky.social, @udanax19.bsky.social Email: DrunkCinemaPodcast@gmail.com Listen and subscribe to us on Apple Podcasts and leave us a review!
We review Superman III (1983) on movie podcast The Collector's Cut. Superman 3 is directed Richard Lester and stars Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder, Richard Pryor patreon: https://www.patreon.com/mildfuzztv twitter: https://twitter.com/ScreamsMidnight all links: https://linktr.ee/mildfuzz Audio version: https://the-collectors-cut.pinecast.co/
We review Superman II (1980) on movie podcast The Collector's Cut. Superman 2 is directed Richard Lester and stars Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder, Gene Hackman, Terence Stamp patreon: https://www.patreon.com/mildfuzztv twitter: https://twitter.com/ScreamsMidnight all links: https://linktr.ee/mildfuzz Audio version: https://the-collectors-cut.pinecast.co/
With all the greatest love and admiration and with respect to all the behind-the-scenes skullduggery that took place while this film was made, we talk about Superman II -- the theatrical (Richard Lester) cut with comparison to The Donner Cut (because the seams were too unseemly and Dave went back and subsequently found it impossible to ignore in this discussion).We can't help but have real issues with Superman II...Join Our Riotous DC Debauch!Site: https://dconscreen.comStore: https://bit.ly/DCoStorePatreon: https://patreon.com/dconscreenApple: http://bit.ly/DCoSReviewSpotify: http://bit.ly/DCSCREENSpreaker: https://bit.ly/DCoSSpreaker
Hang onto your slipcases, because Blake Howard and the legendary @RufusTSuperfly aka Tom Reagan's Hat discuss the swashbuckling delights in the choreography and sound design of Criterion's new release, The Three Musketeers / The Four Musketeers: Two Films by Richard Lester.The Three Musketeers / The Four Musketeers: Two Films by Richard LesterAlexandre Dumas's immortal tale of adventure and camaraderie received perhaps the finest of its numerous screen adaptations with this two-part swashbuckling spectacular from A Hard Day's Night director Richard Lester. Featuring Michael York, Oliver Reed, Frank Finlay, and Richard Chamberlain as the swaggering swordsmen, who thrust and parry their way through courtly intrigue in seventeenth-century France, The Three Musketeers and The Four Musketeers are also graced with an all-star supporting cast that includes Raquel Welch, Faye Dunaway, Geraldine Chaplin, and Charlton Heston. Lester's exuberant epic breathes new life into an oft-told classic through its boisterous slapstick invention, its meticulous attention to period detail, and a sense of pure, unbridled bravado that is thrilling to behold.Richard Lester's spirited adaptation of Alexandre Dumas's timeless novel immediately distinguished itself from previous film versions with its irresistible lightheartedness. It follows the brash, young wannabe musketeer d'Artagnan (Michael York) as he travels from the French countryside to Paris and befriends Athos (Oliver Reed), Porthos (Frank Finlay), and Aramis (Richard Chamberlain), famed swordsmen whom he must help to stop the conniving Cardinal Richelieu (Charlton Heston) and his plot to undermine the king. The Three Musketeers sweeps viewers away with its exquisite sets and costumes, chivalric romance, and breathless duels punctuated by the ingenious physical comedy that was Lester's trademark.It may be “all for one and one for all,” but it took director Richard Lester two films to contain the sweeping spectacle of Alexandre Dumas's swashbuckling adventure. This sequel—shot simultaneously with The Three Musketeers, since they were originally conceived as a single film—dials down the comic high jinks that distinguished the first installment in favor of a more somber tone, as our heroes are drawn into a deadly revenge plot orchestrated by the seductive Milady de Winter (a deliciously wicked Faye Dunaway). Upping the psychological stakes and deepening our sense of the characters, The Four Musketeers brings this beloved tale of honor and friendship to a close with a rousing emotional flourish.SPECIAL EDITION FEATURESNew 4K digital restorations, with uncompressed monaural soundtracksIn the 4K UHD edition: Two 4K UHD discs of the films presented in Dolby Vision HDR and two Blu-rays with the films and special featuresTwo for One, a new documentary by critic David CairnsThe Saga of the Musketeers (2002), a two-part documentary featuring interviews with cast and crew membersThe Making of “The Three Musketeers,” a 1973 featurette with behind-the-scenes footage of director Richard LesterTrailersEnglish subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearingPLUS: An essay by film critic Stephanie ZacharekNew illustration by Mattias AdolfssonThe legendary @RufusTSuperfly aka Tom Reagan's Hat can be found here.Support: JOIN THE ONE HEAT MINUTE PATREON FOR AS LITTLE AS $1 A MONTHFollow the hosts:Blake Howard - Twitter & One Heat Minute Website Alexei Toliopoulos - Twitter & The Last Video StoreSupport this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/one-heat-minute-productions/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy
Celluloid Heroes: Episode 6Film: Superman/Superman IIWhen is a movie two movies in one? When it's the one-two punch of Richard Donner's 1978 Superman and Richard Donner's and Richard Lester's 1981 Superman II. Confused? Thankfully host Brad Abraham is here to explain the complicated backstory behind these two cinema classics, his experiences seeing both in the theater in two very different cities, and how a generation of moviegoers would come to believe a man could flyFollow Celluloid Heroes on INSTAGRAM https://www.instagram.com/TheCelluloidHeroesPodFollow Brad Abraham at www.bradabraham.comShare your thoughts with us! Send your comments to contact@longboxcrusade.comThis podcast is a member of the LONGBOX CRUSADE NETWORK:Visit the WEBSITE: https://www.LongboxCrusade.comFollow on TWITTER: https://twitter.com/LongboxCrusadeFollow on INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/longboxcrusadeLike the FACEBOOK page: https://www.facebook.com/LongboxCrusadeSubscribe to the YOUTUBE Channel: https://goo.gl/4LkhovSubscribe on APPLE PODCASTS at:https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-longboxcrusade/id1118783510?mt=2Subscribe on SPOTIFY at:https://open.spotify.com/show/3Hl0nrO7z1KYaHSDug9hsg?si=ee431b760c8c4a21Celluloid Heroes SPOTIFY Single Feed at:https://open.spotify.com/show/5G4VxlMzO0yy7Rub7MPUzx?si=389277ae77a84dd0We appreciate you joining us for this episode of Celluloid Heroes and hope you enjoyed listening!#film #cinema #movies #genx #nostalgia #Superman #Superman2 #SupermanII #1978 #supermanthemovie
Hey Panelers!This episode of the podcast Mark, Frank, Rob and Steve come together to talk about the movie Superman II (1980) that has been a discussion point of many of us comic fans. Especially since 2006 when the Richard Donner Cut was released. This is a Podcast about our discussion about the two versions of the film. What we liked between both. What we think would be the best mix. Plus which one we prefer to watch. Let us know your thoughts. This is a pre-emptive Episode of the podcast to come out when the James Gunn Movie Superman comes out in July. Something for everyone to talk about. We had a great time talking about this film in both forms. We hope you enjoy it! This was a great 300th episode of the podcast and we thank you all for listening! Check us out on Apple Podcast, Amazon Music, Deezer, Tune In, and Spotify,or whatever podcast player of choice you use. We Can be found on YouTube: Just Search Panels to Pixels Podcast!Subscribe! And just Check the Thumbs up if you like it! We would appreciate it! You can send Feedback at: Facebook.com/PanelsToPixels Email us: Panelstopixels1@gmail.com Instagram: @PanelsToPixelsPodcast
Jay is joined by Howard Casner ( @howardcasner on X ) to discuss the 1974 British aquatic disaster thriller Juggernaut, directed by Richard Lester and starring Richard Harris, Anthony Hopkins, Omar Sharif, Ian Holm and a boatload of recognisable faces! In this episode they talk about a cruise ship under threat from a gentleman terrorist, bad child actors, drunken bomb defusal and wire cutting!
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to listen to Pete and Trevor travel to see Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, the eighth and potentially last instalment in the MI franchise. Christopher McQuarrie is back with Tom Cruise to single-handedly save stunt work and the movies and the world. Listen to the episode for our immediate spoiler-free reactions to the movie before heading into spoiler-talk. This is also the fourth week for our ongoing Project Superman, wherein we watch every single live-action theatrical Superman movie. This week we discuss Superman III, directed by Richard Lester, starring Christoper Reeve (Clark Kent), Margot Kidder (Lois Lane), Richard Pryor (Gus Gorman) and Annette O'Toole (Lana Lang).Don't forget to enter our ongoing contest to win a subscription to Letterboxd Patron: https://boxd.it/Gbt3OIntro, history with Mission: Impossible and recap of Dead Reckoning (0:00)Review of Superman III (24:00)Spoiler free review of Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning (42:12)Spoiler-talk (51:40)About the Movie:Ethan Hunt and the IMF team race against time to stop a rogue artificial intelligence known as “The Entity” from falling into the wrong hands and reshaping global power. As loyalties are tested and old enemies return, Ethan faces his most personal and perilous mission yet.Main CastTom Cruise as Ethan HuntHayley Atwell as GraceVing Rhames as Luther StickellSimon Pegg as Benji DunnEsai Morales as GabrielPom Klementieff as ParisHenry Czerny as Eugene KittridgeAngela Bassett as Erika SloaneCrew Director: Christopher McQuarrieProducers: Tom Cruise, Christopher McQuarrie, Jake MyersWriters: Christopher McQuarrie, Erik JendresenCinematographer: Fraser TaggartEditor: Eddie HamiltonComposer: Lorne BalfeProduction Designer: Gary FreemanCostume Designer: Jill TaylorVisual Effects Supervisor: Alex WuttkeStunt Coordinator: Wade EastwoodCasting Director: Lucy Bevan
The window creaks, the fire extinguishers rattles, maybe the hedge clippers turn on or something…you get the idea. Pete and Trevor saw Final Destination Bloodlines, the sixth installment in the "death is everywhere and everything can kill you" franchise. Which means a lot of fun, creative deaths to talk about. Listen to the episode for our immediate spoiler-free reactions to the movie before heading into spoiler-talk. This is also the third week for our ongoing Project Superman, wherein we watch every single live-action theatrical Superman movie. This week we discuss Superman II, directed by Richard Lester (and also Richard Donner depending on the version), starring Christoper Reeve (Clark Kent), Margot Kidder (Lois Lane), Terence Stamp (General Zod), and Gene Hackman (Lex Luthor).Don't forget to enter our ongoing contest to win a subscription to Letterboxd Patron: https://boxd.it/Gbt3OIntro (0:00)Discussion of Superman II (11:20)Spoiler-free Review of Final Destination Bloodlines (43:58)Spoiler-talk (52:35)About the Movie:Plagued by a violent and recurring nightmare, a college student heads home to track down the one person who might be able to break the cycle of death and save her family from the grisly demise that inevitably awaits them all.Cast:Kaitlyn Santa Juana, Teo Briones, Richard Harmon, Owen Patrick Joyner, Anna Lore, Brec Bassinger, and Tony ToddCrew: Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein and written by Guy Busick and Lori Evans Taylor, based on a story developed by them and Jon Watts
"We know how to behave! We've had lessons." For Episode 359, David and Brandon continue the show's series on Jukebox Musicals with A HARD DAY'S NIGHT. Listen as they discuss the origins of the film, how quickly the production was, and how Richard Lester's direction revolutionized filmmaking for music. Also, don't forget to join our Patreon for more exclusive content: Opening - New Pope and 100 Brits vs 100 Americans - (00:00:10) Recap to the Jukebox Musical Genre (00:06:10) Intro to A Hard Day's Night (00:10:49) How A Hard Day's Night Got to Production (00:21:39) Favorite Scenes (00:29:19) On Set Life - (01:07:50) Aftermath: Release and Legacy (01:19:28) What Worked and What Didn't (01:23:48) Film Facts (01:26:28) Awards (01:26:57) Final Questions on the Movie (01:31:53) Wrapping Up the Episode (01:38:49) Contact Us: Facebook: @cinenation Instagram: @cinenationpodcast Twitter/X: @CineNationPod TikTok: @cinenation Letterboxd: CineNation Podcast
Send us your fan mail :)This week, I dived deep into Superman II. I explore the complicated history of the film, from the firing of director Richard Donner to the eventual release of the Richard Donner Cut. We'll compare the theatrical version directed by Richard Lester with Donner's vision, discussing the differences in tone, plot, and character development. Was Gene Hackman really replaced by a stand-in? How did the effects hold up?OUR SOCIALS:INSTAGRAMTWITTERLETTERBOXDCONTACT US: courtofcinema@gmail.comSPEAKPIPE
The road to James Gunn's Superman continues! We decided to cut out the original theatrical cut credited to Richard Lester and go to the film that as close as can be is the more direct sequel to Superman: The Movie as done by original director Richard Donner! As a child THIS was my Superman movie. How does it hold up? Let's find out!#superman #supermanII #christopherreeve #richarddonner #dc #dccomics #comicbookmovies #comicbookmovie #genehackman #margotkidder #jamesgunn #terrencestamp
According to Peter Sellers: “It all started because Spike Milligan and I once said we wanted to experiment in visual humour. We got as many friends together as we could and went and found a field. That was all we had – friends, a field, a roll of film.”What resulted was 'The Running, Jumping & Standing Still Film' (1959), directed by the up-and-coming Richard Lester, a friend and collaborator of Sellers and Milligan. The short film soon became a word-of-mouth hit and was even nominated for an Oscar. It helped pave the way for Lester to work with the Beatles several years later and Spike Milligan claimed that it was one of the very few true visual representations of Peter Sellers' sense of humour. Although accounts vary it has become accepted that the total budget for the film was £70 (including the rent of a field) and the entire cast was made up of - as Sellers says - friends. So we see Graham Stark, Leo McKern, David Lodge, Mario Fabrizi, Bruce Lacey and Johnny Vyvyan, as well as the two Goons themselves. This week film academic Dr Adrian Smith joins Tyler to talk about this highly influential 11 minutes of mayhem.
In the fifth episode of Season 11: The Son of Cult Flicks, Kyle is joined by screenwriter David Gutierrez and activist Kerry Harwin to discuss the experimental cult sensibilities of Richard Lester with his cynical dissection of the commodification and corruption of flower power idealism in the fractured and delirious anti-romance Petulia (1968).
Host Anthony Desiato and guest Zach Moore (Always Hold On To Smallville) dig into the 1983 film SUPERMAN III from director Richard Lester, which featured comedian Richard Pryor as Gus Gorman, brought Christopher Reeve's Clark back to Smallville for a reunion with Lana Lang (Annette O'Toole), and saw our hero's good and evil sides battle it out in one of the franchise's most iconic scenes.Support the show and receive exclusive podcast content at Patreon.com/AnthonyDesiato, including the spinoff podcasts BEYOND METROPOLIS and DIGGING FOR JUSTICE!Visit BCW Supplies and use promo code FSP to save 10% on your next order of comics supplies. FACEBOOK GROUP: Digging for Kryptonite: A Superman Fan GroupFACEBOOK PAGE: @diggingforkryptonitepodINSTAGRAM: @diggingforkryptonitepodTWITTER: @diggingforkrpodEMAIL: flatsquirrelproductions@gmail.comWEBSITE: FlatSquirrelProductions.com Digging for Kryptonite is a Flat Squirrel Production. Key art by Isaiah Simmons (2020-2024 version by Gregg Schigiel). Theme music by Basic Printer.Mentioned in this episode:Fat Moose ComicsAw Yeah ComicsHang On To Your Shorts Film Festival
James Cameron-Wilson celebrates UK box office climbing for the 5th week running. #1 is Ridley Scott's Gladiator II which, if anything is even better than the first film, with smart storytelling and visual spectacle to take the breath away, though it is incredibly violent, despite its 15 certificate. On Netflix, James adored French-made, Mexico-set musical Emilia Pérez which, like Gladiator, has lots of Oscar buzz. Stylised but gritty and intelligent, it's unlike anything you'll have seen for ages. In a positive week, James also raved about the 50th anniversary Blu-Ray of the British disaster-era film Juggernaut. With Richard Harris leading a great cast directed by Richard Lester, it stands up incredibly well and is a masterclass in popular entertainment with amazing extras. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Host Anthony Desiato and guest Dan Greenfield (13th Dimension) dig into the 1980 film SUPERMAN II, a beloved entry in the franchise despite — or perhaps because of? — being the product of two directors' visions. A combination of original director Richard Donner's more grounded, earnest approach and replacement Richard Lester's campier leanings, the movie follows Christopher Reeve's Superman as he relinquishes his powers to begin a romance with Lois Lane (Margot Kidder)...just as Kryptonian trio of Zod, Non, and Ursa escape the Phantom Zone. The specific focus of this episode is the official theatrical cut, though Anthony and Dan do discuss the long-fabled Donner Cut, which was finally released in 2006 — and offer their final word on what the "best" version of SUPERMAN II truly is.Support the show and receive exclusive podcast content at Patreon.com/AnthonyDesiato, including the spinoff podcasts BEYOND METROPOLIS and DIGGING FOR JUSTICE!Visit BCW Supplies and use promo code FSP to save 10% on your next order of comics supplies. FACEBOOK GROUP: Digging for Kryptonite: A Superman Fan GroupFACEBOOK PAGE: @diggingforkryptonitepodINSTAGRAM: @diggingforkryptonitepodTWITTER: @diggingforkrpodEMAIL: flatsquirrelproductions@gmail.comWEBSITE: FlatSquirrelProductions.com Digging for Kryptonite is a Flat Squirrel Production. Key art by Isaiah Simmons (2020-2024 version by Gregg Schigiel). Theme music by Basic Printer.Mentioned in this episode:Aw Yeah ComicsAlways Hold On To SmallvilleHang On To Your Shorts Film FestivalFat Moose Comics
Steven Soderbergh has made it a point to assimilate the work of other directors and make it his own. He's borrowed from Jean-Luc Godard, Orson Welles, Michael Curtiz, and even Richard Lester. And now he's updating . . . Paul Verhoeven and Adrian Lyne?!? Social media Instagram @thefilmographers Twitter/X @filmographerpod Letterboxd @filmographers YouTube @TheFilmographersPodcast Website: https://filmographerspodcast.com/ Credits Keir Graff & Michael Moreci, hosts Kevin Lau, producer Gompson, theme music Cosmo Graff, graphic design
The twelfth episode of our season on the awesome movie year of 1969 features our cult classic pick, Richard Lester's The Bed Sitting Room. Directed by Richard Lester from a screenplay by John Antrobus and starring Ralph Richardson, Rita Tushingham, Michael Hordern and Arthur Lowe, The Bed Sitting Room is adapted from the play by Spike Milligan and John Antrobus.The contemporary reviews quoted in this episode come from Vincent Canby in The New York Times (https://www.nytimes.com/1969/09/29/archives/screen-lesters-surrealistic-farce-the-bed-sitting-room-is-at-little.html), Penelope Houston in The Spectator (https://archive.spectator.co.uk/article/4th-april-1970/19/arts-long-knives-at-dunsinane), and Bernard Drew in the Gannnett News Service.Visit https://www.awesomemovieyear.com for more info about the show.Make sure to like Awesome Movie Year on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/awesomemovieyear and follow us on Twitter @AwesomemoviepodYou can find Jason online at http://goforjason.com/, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/JHarrisComedy/, on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/jasonharriscomedy/ and on Twitter @JHarrisComedyYou can find Josh online at http://joshbellhateseverything.com/, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/joshbellhateseverything/ and on Twitter @signalbleedYou can find our producer David Rosen's Piecing It Together Podcast at https://www.piecingpod.com, on Twitter at @piecingpod and the Popcorn & Puzzle Pieces Facebook Group at https://www.facebook.com/groups/piecingpod.You can also follow us all on Letterboxd to keep up with what we've been watching at goforjason, signalbleed and bydavidrosen.Subscribe on Patreon to support the show and get access to exclusive content from Awesome Movie Year, plus fellow podcasts Piecing It Together and All Rice No Beans, and music by David Rosen: https://www.patreon.com/bydavidrosenAll of the music in the episode is by David Rosen. Find more of his music at https://www.bydavidrosen.comPlease like, share, rate and comment on the show and this episode, and tune in for the next 1969 installment, featuring our producer David Rosen's pick, David Lowell Rich's Eye of the Cat.
The eleventh episode of our season on the awesome movie year of 1969 features the Academy Awards Best Picture winner, John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy. Directed by John Schlesinger from a screenplay by Waldo Salt (based on the James Leo Herlihy novel) and starring Jon Voight, Dustin Hoffman, Sylvia Miles and Brenda Vaccaro, Midnight Cowboy was the first and only X-rated movie to win the Oscar for Best Picture.The contemporary reviews quoted in this episode come from Roger Ebert (https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/midnight-cowboy-1969), Vincent Canby in The New York Times (https://archive.nytimes.com/www.nytimes.com/packages/html/movies/bestpictures/cowboy-re.html), and Robert J. Landry in Variety (https://variety.com/1969/film/reviews/midnight-cowboy-review-1200421996/).Visit https://www.awesomemovieyear.com for more info about the show.Make sure to like Awesome Movie Year on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/awesomemovieyear and follow us on Twitter @AwesomemoviepodYou can find Jason online at http://goforjason.com/, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/JHarrisComedy/, on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/jasonharriscomedy/ and on Twitter @JHarrisComedyYou can find Josh online at http://joshbellhateseverything.com/, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/joshbellhateseverything/ and on Twitter @signalbleedYou can find our producer David Rosen's Piecing It Together Podcast at https://www.piecingpod.com, on Twitter at @piecingpod and the Popcorn & Puzzle Pieces Facebook Group at https://www.facebook.com/groups/piecingpod.You can also follow us all on Letterboxd to keep up with what we've been watching at goforjason, signalbleed and bydavidrosen.Subscribe on Patreon to support the show and get access to exclusive content from Awesome Movie Year, plus fellow podcasts Piecing It Together and All Rice No Beans, and music by David Rosen: https://www.patreon.com/bydavidrosenAll of the music in the episode is by David Rosen. Find more of his music at https://www.bydavidrosen.comPlease like, share, rate and comment on the show and this episode, and tune in for the next 1969 installment, featuring our future cult classic pick, Richard Lester's The Bed Sitting Room.
When we were younger so much younger than today, we never needed anybody's help in any way. Sorry about the long break, but we're back with extra special guests! Elana Levin of Graphic Policy Radio graces us with their encyclopedic knowledge of classic rock and The Beatles as well as Brooke's daughter Pru, who is named after a Beatles song! We discuss the good and bad of the movie- madcap bits! (good!) racism! (bad!!) Sad boi John Lennon, The Beatles tax haven vacation in the Bahamas, Richard Lester's other movies, and more! Enjoy-- next up the Magical Mystery Tour is coming to take you away!
"Was 1 a good year?" A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966) directed by Richard Lester and starring Zero Mostel, Phil Silvers, Jack Gilford, Michael Hordern and Michael Crawford Next Time: Lady in the Lake (1947)
Original Release Date: Monday 16 September 2024 Description: Welcome to one of our most cinematic episodes of the year! Dean and Phil talk nothing but movies, doing deep dive analyses of the new Dave Bautista action-comedy vehicle (and tax dodge?) The Killer's Game, the current Tim Burton-directed smash hit Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, the Michael Keaton-starring vehicle and directorial effort Knox Goes Away, the recent “thriller in six chapters” Strange Darling, this year's box office disaster The Fall Guy, a 1968 film undone by director Richard Lester's cynicism (Petulia), and an all-too overlooked classic from director Joseph Losey and leading man Alain Delon (Mr. Klein). Finally, Phil regales Dean with a real-life unsolved murder that involved the late, great Delon.
Sam Clements is curating a fictional film festival. He'll accept almost anything, but the movie must not be longer than 90 minutes. This is the 90 Minutes Or Less Film Fest podcast. In episode 126 Sam is joined by Amanda Dobbins, Features Director at The Ringer and co-host of The Big Picture podcast. Amanda has chosen A Hard Day's Night (87 mins). Directed by Richard Lester and written by Alun Owen, the 1964 film is the first movie starring the Beatles - John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr, along with Wilfred Bramble. Sam and Amanda discuss the enduring influence of the film and it's place in Beatlemania, Richard Lester's innovate directing style, and Phil Collins's involvement. Thank you for downloading. We'll be back in a couple of weeks! Rate and subscribe on Apple Podcasts: https://tinyurl.com/90minfilm If you enjoy the show, please subscribe, rate, review and share with your friends. We're an independent podcast and every recommendation helps - thank you! You can also show your support for the podcast by leaving us a top at our Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/90minfilmfest Website: 90minfilmfest.com Tweet: @90MinFilmFest Instagram: @90MinFilmFest We are a proud member of the Stripped Media Network. Hosted and produced by @sam_clements. Edited and produced by Louise Owen. Guest stars @akdobbins. Additional editing and sound mixing by @lukemakestweets. Music by @martinaustwick. Artwork by @samgilbey.
This week, we celebrate Revolutions Per Movie's 1 year anniversary with filmmaker and actor OWEN KLINE (A24's Funny Pages), who chose one of the most anticipated music films to discuss on the podcast, THE WHO'S TOMMY. We discuss the chicken/egg of the movie vs. the lp, the baked bean mythology, Ken Russell's pre-filmmaking history from being a ballet dancer to dodging the war, Russell's early BBC Composer films, Richard Lester and Lindsay Anderson, Robert Crumb and Fantagraphics Books, being a cultural dinosaur, the concept of selling out, the precision of the film that betrays its midnight movie status, Who's Next, how the Tommy LP kept The Who from breaking up, the ARP synth, the use of repetition in both the LP and the movie, transgressive music, how and why Townshend kept changing the shape of the story of Tommy, the aborted projects LIFEHOUSE & THE ANGELS that used elements to make the film Tommy, could we pick up the concept album plot before seeing the movie (and even after seeing it!), Ann-Margret's Oscar-nominated performance, the amount of sweat that appears on actors in the film, the surprising debut acting turn of Roger Daltrey, the UK white boy blues movement, Russell's choice of having the actor sing, including Jack Nicholson's strange turn, Keith Moon's approach to Uncle Ernie, Chris's concept double album Colonel Jeffrey Pumpernickel, Tina Turner's incredible performance as the acid queen and how Mick Jagger was in talks to do the role instead, does Elton John and Tina turner steal the film, the strange final 1/3 of the film, Dauhgltrey's perfect cartwheels, acting through song and so much more!We are also joined by special guest Barry Winch, who starred in TOMMY as ‘Young Tommy'!!! He illuminates us both about being a child on the set of the strange film, what it was like working with Ken Russell, Ann-Margret & Oliver Reed, how they got honest performances out of him as a child actor, how The Who protested going to the premiere unless he was invited (since he was underage), how Ken Russell himself accidentally cast him, his family's acting history, playing hide and seek with Oliver Reed, what it felt like being on the set of that movie, what the Tommy props from the film have been auctioned at, why he wasn't allowed to wander around the set, his favorite memories and some moments of being afraid as well.All this and more as we celebrate the one year anniversary of REVOLUTIONS PER MOVIE!!!OWEN KLINE:https://a24films.com/films/funny-pagesREVOLUTIONS PER MOVIE:Host Chris Slusarenko (Eyelids, Guided By Voices, owner of Clinton Street Video rental store) is joined by actors, musicians, comedians, writers & directors who each week pick out their favorite music documentary, musical, music-themed fiction film or music videos to discuss. Fun, weird, and insightful, Revolutions Per Movie is your deep dive into our life-long obsessions where music and film collide.Revolutions Per Movies releases new episodes every Thursday. If you like the show, please subscribe, rate, and review it on your favorite podcast app.The show is also a completely independent affair, so the best way to support it is through our Patreon at patreon.com/revolutionspermovie. By joining, you can get weekly bonus episodes, physical goods such as Flexidiscs, and other exclusive goods.SOCIALS:@revolutionspermovieX, BlueSky: @revpermovie Click here to get EXCLUSIVE BONUS WEEKLY Revolutions Per Movie content on our Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Your heroes kneel before Zod to discuss Superman II! In this episode we share what we liked, discuss at length what doesn't work, and explain The Donner Cut. Superman: The Movie is directed by Richard Lester; written by Mario Puzo, David Newman, and Leslie Newman; and stars and stars Christopher Reeve, Margot Kidder, Gene Hackman, and Terence Stamp.Follow ComiClub on Instagram @ComiClubPodcastComiClub is hosted by Blaine McGaffigan and Adam Cook.
The great George Gross returns to help figure out if Richard Pryor is actually funny in Richard Lester's Superman III! Join us as we discuss...Would you blame this movie more on cocaine or alcohol?Superman being forced to ride a in a hot bus for hours with Jimmy Olsen!Is Superman Clark Kent or is Clark Kent Superman?Superman gets laid!The X-Men TAS Podcast just opened a SECRET reddit group, join by clicking here! We are also on Twitch sometimes… click here to go to our page and follow and subscribe so you can join in on all the mysterious fun to be had! Also, make sure to subscribe to our podcast via Buzzsprout or iTunes and tell all your friends about it! Follow Willie Simpson on Twitter and Threads and please join our Facebook Group! Last but not least, if you want to support the show, you can Buy Us a Coffee as well!
Aaron and Josh Sarnecky are here to talk about A Hard Day's Night for its 60th anniversary. A Hard Day's Night is a musical comedy film directed by Richard Lester. It shares the name of the song and album by The Beatles. It opened in theaters in the United Kingdom on July 10, 1964. It debuted in the United States on August 12. In the film, Paul, John, George, and Ringo fool off when they should be rehearsing for a television performance. Accompanying them in London is Paul's mischievous grandfather (Wilfrid Brambell). Chaperoning the Fab Four are their managers Norm (Norman Rossington) and Shake (John Junkin). A Hard Day's Night released during the beginning of Beatlemania in the U.S. It was nominated at the Oscars for Best Original Screenplay and Best Adapted Score. Today, it is considered one of the greatest British films over all time. Aaron and Josh talk about their familiarity with The Beatles and classic rock before going into the movie's plot, characters, humor, and songs. They also discuss The Beatles' legacy and director Sam Mendes' upcoming movie series based on the band. For another a classic musical, you can listen to Josh and Aaron's podcast about Singin' in the Rain. A Hard Day's Night is available on Max and Prime Video
The Cinema of Mad Men continues, with “The Crash” and Richard Lester's Petulia. In the classic season 6 episode, the office is visited by a Dr. Feelgood, Don retraces his sexual pathology to his childhood, and his kids get burglarized. In the 1968 film Petulia, George C. Scott and Julie Christie strike up a post-screwball romance from hell in the hippest, strangest parts of San Francisco. Infidelity, drugs, and the commodification of counter-culture are all over this pairing. 00:00 - The Crash 39:41 - Petulia Get an extra episode every week for $5/mo at https://www.patreon.com/Extended_Clip and send your questions, concerns, etc to extendedclippodcast@gmail.com
In Cineversary podcast episode #72, host Erik Martin is joined by guest Ken Womack—author of several books on the Fab Four including The Cambridge Companion to the Beatles and Living the Beatles Legend: The Untold Story of Mal Evans—as they celebrate the 60th birthday of A Hard Day's Night, directed by Richard Lester. Together, they rediscover the euphoria of of Beatlemania, examine this film's widespread influence, and explain why the movie still matters. Learn more about the Cineversary podcast at www.cineversary.com and email show comments or suggestions to cineversarypodcast@gmail.com. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/cineversary/support
This weeks Patreon choice comes courtesy of Matt Bates aka, Black Country Vlogger. Matt shares a passion for Las Vegas with Chris and you'll have to listen to see whether they also share a passion for 1960's musical comedies. Checkout Matt on https://www.youtube.com/@BlackCountryVlogger A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966) was a collaborative effort between director Richard Lester, screenwriter Melvin Frank, and a talented ensemble cast. Filming primarily took place on location in Madrid, Spain, providing the production with access to authentic Roman architecture and settings. This decision added to the film's visual authenticity and allowed the filmmakers to immerse audiences in the bustling streets of ancient Rome. The production also benefited from the participation of Broadway veterans like Zero Mostel, who reprised his Tony Award-winning role as the cunning slave Pseudolus, alongside a cast that included Phil Silvers, Buster Keaton, and Jack Gilford, all contributing their comedic talents to the ensemble. Despite facing challenges inherent in filming on location, such as coordinating logistics and navigating cultural differences, the production team successfully brought the lively and irreverent musical to life on the big screen. The film's elaborate sets, colorful costumes, and energetic choreography captured the essence of classical farce and delighted audiences with its witty humor and catchy musical numbers. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum remains a beloved adaptation of the Broadway hit, cherished for its spirited performances and timeless comedic appeal. If you enjoy the show we have a Patreon, so become a supporter. www.patreon.com/thevhsstrikesback Plot Summary: Pseudolus is a wily slave played by Zero Mostel and schemes to win his freedom by helping his young master, Hero win the heart of the beautiful courtesan Philia. Pseudolus's plans are complicated by a series of mistaken identities, romantic entanglements, and slapstick mishaps, all set against the backdrop of the chaotic streets of Rome. thevhsstrikesback@gmail.com https://linktr.ee/vhsstrikesback --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/thevhsstrikesback/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/thevhsstrikesback/support
Rita Tushingham burst onto the film scene with her debut role in A Taste Of Honey and established herself as an iconic face of the British New Wave. Ian is joined by film historian Melanie Williams to review three of her early roles. A Taste Of Honey (1961). Directed by Tony Richardson. Written by Shelagh Delaney. Starring Rita Tushingham, Dora Bryan, Robert Stephens, Murray Melvin and Paul Danquah. Girl With Green Eyes (1964). Directed by Desmond Davis. Written by Edna O'Brien. Starring Rita Tushingham, Peter Finch and Lynn Redgrave. The Knack...and How To Get It (1965). Directed by Richard Lester. Written by Charles Wood from the play by Ann Jellicoe. Starring Rita Tushingham, Michael Crawford, Ray Brooks and Donal DonnellyMelanie Williams is Professor of Film and Television Studies at the University of East Anglia. A historian of British cinema, her recent books include a BFI Film Classic on A Taste of Honey (2023), Transformation and Tradition in 1960s British Cinema (with Richard Farmer, Laura Mayne and Duncan Petrie, 2019), and Female Stars of British Cinema: The Women in Question (2017). She is currently writing a book about the British filmmaker Muriel Box.
We are joined by guest Tony Bevilacqua, guitarist for The Distillers, for BEATLE MOVIE MANIA PART TWO as we discuss HELP! (1965), directed by Richard Lester, the MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR television special (1967) written and directed by the Beatles themselves, and the animated YELLOW SUBMARINE (1968).
Front Row Classics is "working like a dog" this week. We're celebrating the 60th anniversary of A Hard Day's Night as well as the Beatle' arrival in America. Brandon is joined by author & film historian, Sloan De Forest. Sloan is a self-proclaimed "Beatle Maniac" and helps to provide great insight into this musical comedy directed by Richard Lester. Brandon and Sloan marvel at the natural acting & comedic abilities from John, Paul, George & Ringo. We also discuss how modern the film still feels after sixty years.
GGACP celebrates the 92nd birthday of innovative film director -- and long-sought podcast guest -- Richard Lester (b. January 19, 1932), by revisiting this double topic mini-ep from 2016. In this episode, the boys look back on the American-born expatriate's impressive list of collaborators (Peter Sellers, Sean Connery, the Beatles, Peter Cook & Dudley Moore, et al.) as well as his influence on everyone from Martin Scorsese to Steven Soderbergh. Also: "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum"! John Lennon wins the war! Ted Bessell does George Jessel! The enduring appeal of "A Hard Day's Night"! And Gilbert weighs in on the Spice Girls movie! PLUS: The very first discussion of Bob Hope's "Jack Frost"! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Episode 171 looks at "Hey Jude", the White Album, and the career of the Beatles from August 1967 through November 1968. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a fifty-seven-minute bonus episode available, on "I Love You" by People!. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt's irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Errata Not really an error, but at one point I refer to Ornette Coleman as a saxophonist. While he was, he plays trumpet on the track that is excerpted after that. Resources No Mixcloud this week due to the number of songs by the Beatles. I have read literally dozens of books on the Beatles, and used bits of information from many of them. All my Beatles episodes refer to: The Complete Beatles Chronicle by Mark Lewisohn, All The Songs: The Stories Behind Every Beatles Release by Jean-Michel Guesdon, And The Band Begins To Play: The Definitive Guide To The Songs of The Beatles by Steve Lambley, The Beatles By Ear by Kevin Moore, Revolution in the Head by Ian MacDonald, and The Beatles Anthology. For this episode, I also referred to Last Interview by David Sheff, a longform interview with John Lennon and Yoko Ono from shortly before Lennon's death; Many Years From Now by Barry Miles, an authorised biography of Paul McCartney; and Here, There, and Everywhere: My Life Recording the Music of the Beatles by Geoff Emerick and Howard Massey. This time I also used Steve Turner's The Beatles: The Stories Behind the Songs 1967-1970. I referred to Philip Norman's biographies of John Lennon, George Harrison, and Paul McCartney, to Graeme Thomson's biography of George Harrison, Take a Sad Song by James Campion, Yoko Ono: An Artful Life by Donald Brackett, Those Were the Days 2.0 by Stephan Granados, and Sound Pictures by Kenneth Womack. Sadly the only way to get the single mix of “Hey Jude” is on this ludicrously-expensive out-of-print box set, but a remixed stereo mix is easily available on the new reissue of the 1967-70 compilation. The original mixes of the White Album are also, shockingly, out of print, but this 2018 remix is available for the moment. Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them? Transcript Before I start, a quick note -- this episode deals, among other topics, with child abandonment, spousal neglect, suicide attempts, miscarriage, rape accusations, and heroin addiction. If any of those topics are likely to upset you, you might want to check the transcript rather than listening to this episode. It also, for once, contains a short excerpt of an expletive, but given that that expletive in that context has been regularly played on daytime radio without complaint for over fifty years, I suspect it can be excused. The use of mantra meditation is something that exists across religions, and which appears to have been independently invented multiple times, in multiple cultures. In the Western culture to which most of my listeners belong, it is now best known as an aspect of what is known as "mindfulness", a secularised version of Buddhism which aims to provide adherents with the benefits of the teachings of the Buddha but without the cosmology to which they are attached. But it turns up in almost every religious tradition I know of in one form or another. The idea of mantra meditation is a very simple one, and one that even has some basis in science. There is a mathematical principle in neurology and information science called the free energy principle which says our brains are wired to try to minimise how surprised we are -- our brain is constantly making predictions about the world, and then looking at the results from our senses to see if they match. If they do, that's great, and the brain will happily move on to its next prediction. If they don't, the brain has to update its model of the world to match the new information, make new predictions, and see if those new predictions are a better match. Every person has a different mental model of the world, and none of them match reality, but every brain tries to get as close as possible. This updating of the model to match the new information is called "thinking", and it uses up energy, and our bodies and brains have evolved to conserve energy as much as possible. This means that for many people, most of the time, thinking is unpleasant, and indeed much of the time that people have spent thinking, they've been thinking about how to stop themselves having to do it at all, and when they have managed to stop thinking, however briefly, they've experienced great bliss. Many more or less effective technologies have been created to bring about a more minimal-energy state, including alcohol, heroin, and barbituates, but many of these have unwanted side-effects, such as death, which people also tend to want to avoid, and so people have often turned to another technology. It turns out that for many people, they can avoid thinking by simply thinking about something that is utterly predictable. If they minimise the amount of sensory input, and concentrate on something that they can predict exactly, eventually they can turn off their mind, relax, and float downstream, without dying. One easy way to do this is to close your eyes, so you can't see anything, make your breath as regular as possible, and then concentrate on a sound that repeats over and over. If you repeat a single phrase or word a few hundred times, that regular repetition eventually causes your mind to stop having to keep track of the world, and experience a peace that is, by all accounts, unlike any other experience. What word or phrase that is can depend very much on the tradition. In Transcendental Meditation, each person has their own individual phrase. In the Catholicism in which George Harrison and Paul McCartney were raised, popular phrases for this are "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner" or "Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen." In some branches of Buddhism, a popular mantra is "_NAMU MYŌHŌ RENGE KYŌ_". In the Hinduism to which George Harrison later converted, you can use "Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama Hare Hare", "Om Namo Bhagavate Vāsudevāya" or "Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha". Those last two start with the syllable "Om", and indeed some people prefer to just use that syllable, repeating a single syllable over and over again until they reach a state of transcendence. [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Hey Jude" ("na na na na na na na")] We don't know much about how the Beatles first discovered Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, except that it was thanks to Pattie Boyd, George Harrison's then-wife. Unfortunately, her memory of how she first became involved in the Maharishi's Spiritual Regeneration Movement, as described in her autobiography, doesn't fully line up with other known facts. She talks about reading about the Maharishi in the paper with her friend Marie-Lise while George was away on tour, but she also places the date that this happened in February 1967, several months after the Beatles had stopped touring forever. We'll be seeing a lot more of these timing discrepancies as this story progresses, and people's memories increasingly don't match the events that happened to them. Either way, it's clear that Pattie became involved in the Spiritual Regeneration Movement a good length of time before her husband did. She got him to go along with her to one of the Maharishi's lectures, after she had already been converted to the practice of Transcendental Meditation, and they brought along John, Paul, and their partners (Ringo's wife Maureen had just given birth, so they didn't come). As we heard back in episode one hundred and fifty, that lecture was impressive enough that the group, plus their wives and girlfriends (with the exception of Maureen Starkey) and Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithfull, all went on a meditation retreat with the Maharishi at a holiday camp in Bangor, and it was there that they learned that Brian Epstein had been found dead. The death of the man who had guided the group's career could not have come at a worse time for the band's stability. The group had only recorded one song in the preceding two months -- Paul's "Your Mother Should Know" -- and had basically been running on fumes since completing recording of Sgt Pepper many months earlier. John's drug intake had increased to the point that he was barely functional -- although with the enthusiasm of the newly converted he had decided to swear off LSD at the Maharishi's urging -- and his marriage was falling apart. Similarly, Paul McCartney's relationship with Jane Asher was in a bad state, though both men were trying to repair their damaged relationships, while both George and Ringo were having doubts about the band that had made them famous. In George's case, he was feeling marginalised by John and Paul, his songs ignored or paid cursory attention, and there was less for him to do on the records as the group moved away from making guitar-based rock and roll music into the stranger areas of psychedelia. And Ringo, whose main memory of the recording of Sgt Pepper was of learning to play chess while the others went through the extensive overdubs that characterised that album, was starting to feel like his playing was deteriorating, and that as the only non-writer in the band he was on the outside to an extent. On top of that, the group were in the middle of a major plan to restructure their business. As part of their contract renegotiations with EMI at the beginning of 1967, it had been agreed that they would receive two million pounds -- roughly fifteen million pounds in today's money -- in unpaid royalties as a lump sum. If that had been paid to them as individuals, or through the company they owned, the Beatles Ltd, they would have had to pay the full top rate of tax on it, which as George had complained the previous year was over ninety-five percent. (In fact, he'd been slightly exaggerating the generosity of the UK tax system to the rich, as at that point the top rate of income tax was somewhere around ninety-seven and a half percent). But happily for them, a couple of years earlier the UK had restructured its tax laws and introduced a corporation tax, which meant that the profits of corporations were no longer taxed at the same high rate as income. So a new company had been set up, The Beatles & Co, and all the group's non-songwriting income was paid into the company. Each Beatle owned five percent of the company, and the other eighty percent was owned by a new partnership, a corporation that was soon renamed Apple Corps -- a name inspired by a painting that McCartney had liked by the artist Rene Magritte. In the early stages of Apple, it was very entangled with Nems, the company that was owned by Brian and Clive Epstein, and which was in the process of being sold to Robert Stigwood, though that sale fell through after Brian's death. The first part of Apple, Apple Publishing, had been set up in the summer of 1967, and was run by Terry Doran, a friend of Epstein's who ran a motor dealership -- most of the Apple divisions would be run by friends of the group rather than by people with experience in the industries in question. As Apple was set up during the point that Stigwood was getting involved with NEMS, Apple Publishing's initial offices were in the same building with, and shared staff with, two publishing companies that Stigwood owned, Dratleaf Music, who published Cream's songs, and Abigail Music, the Bee Gees' publishers. And indeed the first two songs published by Apple were copyrights that were gifted to the company by Stigwood -- "Listen to the Sky", a B-side by an obscure band called Sands: [Excerpt: Sands, "Listen to the Sky"] And "Outside Woman Blues", an arrangement by Eric Clapton of an old blues song by Blind Joe Reynolds, which Cream had copyrighted separately and released on Disraeli Gears: [Excerpt: Cream, "Outside Woman Blues"] But Apple soon started signing outside songwriters -- once Mike Berry, a member of Apple Publishing's staff, had sat McCartney down and explained to him what music publishing actually was, something he had never actually understood even though he'd been a songwriter for five years. Those songwriters, given that this was 1967, were often also performers, and as Apple Records had not yet been set up, Apple would try to arrange recording contracts for them with other labels. They started with a group called Focal Point, who got signed by badgering Paul McCartney to listen to their songs until he gave them Doran's phone number to shut them up: [Excerpt: Focal Point, "Sycamore Sid"] But the big early hope for Apple Publishing was a songwriter called George Alexander. Alexander's birth name had been Alexander Young, and he was the brother of George Young, who was a member of the Australian beat group The Easybeats, who'd had a hit with "Friday on My Mind": [Excerpt: The Easybeats, "Friday on My Mind"] His younger brothers Malcolm and Angus would go on to have a few hits themselves, but AC/DC wouldn't be formed for another five years. Terry Doran thought that Alexander should be a member of a band, because bands were more popular than solo artists at the time, and so he was placed with three former members of Tony Rivers and the Castaways, a Beach Boys soundalike group that had had some minor success. John Lennon suggested that the group be named Grapefruit, after a book he was reading by a conceptual artist of his acquaintance named Yoko Ono, and as Doran was making arrangements with Terry Melcher for a reciprocal publishing deal by which Melcher's American company would publish Apple songs in the US while Apple published songs from Melcher's company in the UK, it made sense for Melcher to also produce Grapefruit's first single, "Dear Delilah": [Excerpt: Grapefruit, "Dear Delilah"] That made number twenty-one in the UK when it came out in early 1968, on the back of publicity about Grapefruit's connection with the Beatles, but future singles by the band were much less successful, and like several other acts involved with Apple, they found that they were more hampered by the Beatles connection than helped. A few other people were signed to Apple Publishing early on, of whom the most notable was Jackie Lomax. Lomax had been a member of a minor Merseybeat group, the Undertakers, and after they had split up, he'd been signed by Brian Epstein with a new group, the Lomax Alliance, who had released one single, "Try as You May": [Excerpt: The Lomax Alliance, "Try As You May"] After Epstein's death, Lomax had plans to join another band, being formed by another Merseybeat musician, Chris Curtis, the former drummer of the Searchers. But after going to the Beatles to talk with them about them helping the new group financially, Lomax was persuaded by John Lennon to go solo instead. He may later have regretted that decision, as by early 1968 the people that Curtis had recruited for his new band had ditched him and were making a name for themselves as Deep Purple. Lomax recorded one solo single with funding from Stigwood, a cover version of a song by an obscure singer-songwriter, Jake Holmes, "Genuine Imitation Life": [Excerpt: Jackie Lomax, "Genuine Imitation Life"] But he was also signed to Apple Publishing as a songwriter. The Beatles had only just started laying out plans for Apple when Epstein died, and other than the publishing company one of the few things they'd agreed on was that they were going to have a film company, which was to be run by Denis O'Dell, who had been an associate producer on A Hard Day's Night and on How I Won The War, the Richard Lester film Lennon had recently starred in. A few days after Epstein's death, they had a meeting, in which they agreed that the band needed to move forward quickly if they were going to recover from Epstein's death. They had originally been planning on going to India with the Maharishi to study meditation, but they decided to put that off until the new year, and to press forward with a film project Paul had been talking about, to be titled Magical Mystery Tour. And so, on the fifth of September 1967, they went back into the recording studio and started work on a song of John's that was earmarked for the film, "I am the Walrus": [Excerpt: The Beatles, "I am the Walrus"] Magical Mystery Tour, the film, has a mixed reputation which we will talk about shortly, but one defence that Paul McCartney has always made of it is that it's the only place where you can see the Beatles performing "I am the Walrus". While the song was eventually relegated to a B-side, it's possibly the finest B-side of the Beatles' career, and one of the best tracks the group ever made. As with many of Lennon's songs from this period, the song was a collage of many different elements pulled from his environment and surroundings, and turned into something that was rather more than the sum of its parts. For its musical inspiration, Lennon pulled from, of all things, a police siren going past his house. (For those who are unfamiliar with what old British police sirens sounded like, as opposed to the ones in use for most of my lifetime or in other countries, here's a recording of one): [Excerpt: British police siren ca 1968] That inspired Lennon to write a snatch of lyric to go with the sound of the siren, starting "Mister city policeman sitting pretty". He had two other song fragments, one about sitting in the garden, and one about sitting on a cornflake, and he told Hunter Davies, who was doing interviews for his authorised biography of the group, “I don't know how it will all end up. Perhaps they'll turn out to be different parts of the same song.” But the final element that made these three disparate sections into a song was a letter that came from Stephen Bayley, a pupil at Lennon's old school Quarry Bank, who told him that the teachers at the school -- who Lennon always thought of as having suppressed his creativity -- were now analysing Beatles lyrics in their lessons. Lennon decided to come up with some nonsense that they couldn't analyse -- though as nonsensical as the finished song is, there's an underlying anger to a lot of it that possibly comes from Lennon thinking of his school experiences. And so Lennon asked his old schoolfriend Pete Shotton to remind him of a disgusting playground chant that kids used to sing in schools in the North West of England (and which they still sang with very minor variations at my own school decades later -- childhood folklore has a remarkably long life). That rhyme went: Yellow matter custard, green snot pie All mixed up with a dead dog's eye Slap it on a butty, nice and thick, And drink it down with a cup of cold sick Lennon combined some parts of this with half-remembered fragments of Lewis Carrol's The Walrus and the Carpenter, and with some punning references to things that were going on in his own life and those of his friends -- though it's difficult to know exactly which of the stories attached to some of the more incomprehensible bits of the lyrics are accurate. The story that the line "I am the eggman" is about a sexual proclivity of Eric Burdon of the Animals seems plausible, while the contention by some that the phrase "semolina pilchard" is a reference to Sgt Pilcher, the corrupt policeman who had arrested three of the Rolling Stones, and would later arrest Lennon, on drugs charges, seems less likely. The track is a masterpiece of production, but the release of the basic take on Anthology 2 in 1996 showed that the underlying performance, before George Martin worked his magic with the overdubs, is still a remarkable piece of work: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "I am the Walrus (Anthology 2 version)"] But Martin's arrangement and production turned the track from a merely very good track into a masterpiece. The string arrangement, very much in the same mould as that for "Strawberry Fields Forever" but giving a very different effect with its harsh cello glissandi, is the kind of thing one expects from Martin, but there's also the chanting of the Mike Sammes Singers, who were more normally booked for sessions like Englebert Humperdinck's "The Last Waltz": [Excerpt: Engelbert Humperdinck, "The Last Waltz"] But here were instead asked to imitate the sound of the strings, make grunting noises, and generally go very far out of their normal comfort zone: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "I am the Walrus"] But the most fascinating piece of production in the entire track is an idea that seems to have been inspired by people like John Cage -- a live feed of a radio being tuned was played into the mono mix from about the halfway point, and whatever was on the radio at the time was captured: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "I am the Walrus"] This is also why for many decades it was impossible to have a true stereo mix of the track -- the radio part was mixed directly into the mono mix, and it wasn't until the 1990s that someone thought to track down a copy of the original radio broadcasts and recreate the process. In one of those bits of synchronicity that happen more often than you would think when you're creating aleatory art, and which are why that kind of process can be so appealing, one bit of dialogue from the broadcast of King Lear that was on the radio as the mixing was happening was *perfectly* timed: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "I am the Walrus"] After completing work on the basic track for "I am the Walrus", the group worked on two more songs for the film, George's "Blue Jay Way" and a group-composed twelve-bar blues instrumental called "Flying", before starting production. Magical Mystery Tour, as an idea, was inspired in equal parts by Ken Kesey's Merry Pranksters, the collective of people we talked about in the episode on the Grateful Dead who travelled across the US extolling the virtues of psychedelic drugs, and by mystery tours, a British working-class tradition that has rather fallen out of fashion in the intervening decades. A mystery tour would generally be put on by a coach-hire company, and would be a day trip to an unannounced location -- though the location would in fact be very predictable, and would be a seaside town within a couple of hours' drive of its starting point. In the case of the ones the Beatles remembered from their own childhoods, this would be to a coastal town in Lancashire or Wales, like Blackpool, Rhyl, or Prestatyn. A coachload of people would pay to be driven to this random location, get very drunk and have a singsong on the bus, and spend a day wherever they were taken. McCartney's plan was simple -- they would gather a group of passengers and replicate this experience over the course of several days, and film whatever went on, but intersperse that with more planned out sketches and musical numbers. For this reason, along with the Beatles and their associates, the cast included some actors found through Spotlight and some of the group's favourite performers, like the comedian Nat Jackley (whose comedy sequence directed by John was cut from the final film) and the surrealist poet/singer/comedian Ivor Cutler: [Excerpt: Ivor Cutler, "I'm Going in a Field"] The film also featured an appearance by a new band who would go on to have great success over the next year, the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band. They had recorded their first single in Abbey Road at the same time as the Beatles were recording Revolver, but rather than being progressive psychedelic rock, it had been a remake of a 1920s novelty song: [Excerpt: The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, "My Brother Makes the Noises For the Talkies"] Their performance in Magical Mystery Tour was very different though -- they played a fifties rock pastiche written by band leaders Vivian Stanshall and Neil Innes while a stripper took off her clothes. While several other musical sequences were recorded for the film, including one by the band Traffic and one by Cutler, other than the Beatles tracks only the Bonzos' song made it into the finished film: [Excerpt: The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, "Death Cab for Cutie"] That song, thirty years later, would give its name to a prominent American alternative rock band. Incidentally the same night that Magical Mystery Tour was first broadcast was also the night that the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band first appeared on a TV show, Do Not Adjust Your Set, which featured three future members of the Monty Python troupe -- Eric Idle, Michael Palin, and Terry Jones. Over the years the careers of the Bonzos, the Pythons, and the Beatles would become increasingly intertwined, with George Harrison in particular striking up strong friendships and working relationships with Bonzos Neil Innes and "Legs" Larry Smith. The filming of Magical Mystery Tour went about as well as one might expect from a film made by four directors, none of whom had any previous filmmaking experience, and none of whom had any business knowledge. The Beatles were used to just turning up and having things magically done for them by other people, and had no real idea of the infrastructure challenges that making a film, even a low-budget one, actually presents, and ended up causing a great deal of stress to almost everyone involved. The completed film was shown on TV on Boxing Day 1967 to general confusion and bemusement. It didn't help that it was originally broadcast in black and white, and so for example the scene showing shifting landscapes (outtake footage from Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove, tinted various psychedelic colours) over the "Flying" music, just looked like grey fuzz. But also, it just wasn't what people were expecting from a Beatles film. This was a ramshackle, plotless, thing more inspired by Andy Warhol's underground films than by the kind of thing the group had previously appeared in, and it was being presented as Christmas entertainment for all the family. And to be honest, it's not even a particularly good example of underground filmmaking -- though it looks like a masterpiece when placed next to something like the Bee Gees' similar effort, Cucumber Castle. But there are enough interesting sequences in there for the project not to be a complete failure -- and the deleted scenes on the DVD release, including the performances by Cutler and Traffic, and the fact that the film was edited down from ten hours to fifty-two minutes, makes one wonder if there's a better film that could be constructed from the original footage. Either way, the reaction to the film was so bad that McCartney actually appeared on David Frost's TV show the next day to defend it and, essentially, apologise. While they were editing the film, the group were also continuing to work in the studio, including on two new McCartney songs, "The Fool on the Hill", which was included in Magical Mystery Tour, and "Hello Goodbye", which wasn't included on the film's soundtrack but was released as the next single, with "I Am the Walrus" as the B-side: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Hello Goodbye"] Incidentally, in the UK the soundtrack to Magical Mystery Tour was released as a double-EP rather than as an album (in the US, the group's recent singles and B-sides were added to turn it into a full-length album, which is how it's now generally available). "I Am the Walrus" was on the double-EP as well as being on the single's B-side, and the double-EP got to number two on the singles charts, meaning "I am the Walrus" was on the records at number one and number two at the same time. Before it became obvious that the film, if not the soundtrack, was a disaster, the group held a launch party on the twenty-first of December, 1967. The band members went along in fancy dress, as did many of the cast and crew -- the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band performed at the party. Mike Love and Bruce Johnston of the Beach Boys also turned up at the party, and apparently at one point jammed with the Bonzos, and according to some, but not all, reports, a couple of the Beatles joined in as well. Love and Johnston had both just met the Maharishi for the first time a couple of days earlier, and Love had been as impressed as the Beatles were, and it may have been at this party that the group mentioned to Love that they would soon be going on a retreat in India with the guru -- a retreat that was normally meant for training TM instructors, but this time seemed to be more about getting celebrities involved. Love would also end up going with them. That party was also the first time that Cynthia Lennon had an inkling that John might not be as faithful to her as she previously supposed. John had always "joked" about being attracted to George Harrison's wife, Patti, but this time he got a little more blatant about his attraction than he ever had previously, to the point that he made Cynthia cry, and Cynthia's friend, the pop star Lulu, decided to give Lennon a very public dressing-down for his cruelty to his wife, a dressing-down that must have been a sight to behold, as Lennon was dressed as a Teddy boy while Lulu was in a Shirley Temple costume. It's a sign of how bad the Lennons' marriage was at this point that this was the second time in a two-month period where Cynthia had ended up crying because of John at a film launch party and been comforted by a female pop star. In October, Cilla Black had held a party to celebrate the belated release of John's film How I Won the War, and during the party Georgie Fame had come up to Black and said, confused, "Cynthia Lennon is hiding in your wardrobe". Black went and had a look, and Cynthia explained to her “I'm waiting to see how long it is before John misses me and comes looking for me.” Black's response had been “You'd better face it, kid—he's never gonna come.” Also at the Magical Mystery Tour party was Lennon's father, now known as Freddie Lennon, and his new nineteen-year-old fiancee. While Hunter Davis had been researching the Beatles' biography, he'd come across some evidence that the version of Freddie's attitude towards John that his mother's side of the family had always told him -- that Freddie had been a cruel and uncaring husband who had not actually wanted to be around his son -- might not be the whole of the truth, and that the mother who he had thought of as saintly might also have had some part to play in their marriage breaking down and Freddie not seeing his son for twenty years. The two had made some tentative attempts at reconciliation, and indeed Freddie would even come and live with John for a while, though within a couple of years the younger Lennon's heart would fully harden against his father again. Of course, the things that John always resented his father for were pretty much exactly the kind of things that Lennon himself was about to do. It was around this time as well that Derek Taylor gave the Beatles copies of the debut album by a young singer/songwriter named Harry Nilsson. Nilsson will be getting his own episode down the line, but not for a couple of years at my current rates, so it's worth bringing that up here, because that album became a favourite of all the Beatles, and would have a huge influence on their songwriting for the next couple of years, and because one song on the album, "1941", must have resonated particularly deeply with Lennon right at this moment -- an autobiographical song by Nilsson about how his father had left him and his mother when he was a small boy, and about his own fear that, as his first marriage broke down, he was repeating the pattern with his stepson Scott: [Excerpt: Nilsson, "1941"] The other major event of December 1967, rather overshadowed by the Magical Mystery Tour disaster the next day, was that on Christmas Day Paul McCartney and Jane Asher announced their engagement. A few days later, George Harrison flew to India. After John and Paul had had their outside film projects -- John starring in How I Won The War and Paul doing the soundtrack for The Family Way -- the other two Beatles more or less simultaneously did their own side project films, and again one acted while the other did a soundtrack. Both of these projects were in the rather odd subgenre of psychedelic shambolic comedy film that sprang up in the mid sixties, a subgenre that produced a lot of fascinating films, though rather fewer good ones. Indeed, both of them were in the subsubgenre of shambolic psychedelic *sex* comedies. In Ringo's case, he had a small role in the film Candy, which was based on the novel we mentioned in the last episode, co-written by Terry Southern, which was in itself a loose modern rewriting of Voltaire's Candide. Unfortunately, like such other classics of this subgenre as Anthony Newley's Can Heironymus Merkin Ever Forget Mercy Humppe and Find True Happiness?, Candy has dated *extremely* badly, and unless you find repeated scenes of sexual assault and rape, ethnic stereotypes, and jokes about deformity and disfigurement to be an absolute laugh riot, it's not a film that's worth seeking out, and Starr's part in it is not a major one. Harrison's film was of the same basic genre -- a film called Wonderwall about a mad scientist who discovers a way to see through the walls of his apartment, and gets to see a photographer taking sexy photographs of a young woman named Penny Lane, played by Jane Birkin: [Excerpt: Some Wonderwall film dialogue ripped from the Blu-Ray] Wonderwall would, of course, later inspire the title of a song by Oasis, and that's what the film is now best known for, but it's a less-unwatchable film than Candy, and while still problematic it's less so. Which is something. Harrison had been the Beatle with least involvement in Magical Mystery Tour -- McCartney had been the de facto director, Starr had been the lead character and the only one with much in the way of any acting to do, and Lennon had written the film's standout scene and its best song, and had done a little voiceover narration. Harrison, by contrast, barely has anything to do in the film apart from the one song he contributed, "Blue Jay Way", and he said of the project “I had no idea what was happening and maybe I didn't pay enough attention because my problem, basically, was that I was in another world, I didn't really belong; I was just an appendage.” He'd expressed his discomfort to his friend Joe Massot, who was about to make his first feature film. Massot had got to know Harrison during the making of his previous film, Reflections on Love, a mostly-silent short which had starred Harrison's sister-in-law Jenny Boyd, and which had been photographed by Robert Freeman, who had been the photographer for the Beatles' album covers from With the Beatles through Rubber Soul, and who had taken most of the photos that Klaus Voorman incorporated into the cover of Revolver (and whose professional association with the Beatles seemed to come to an end around the same time he discovered that Lennon had been having an affair with his wife). Massot asked Harrison to write the music for the film, and told Harrison he would have complete free rein to make whatever music he wanted, so long as it fit the timing of the film, and so Harrison decided to create a mixture of Western rock music and the Indian music he loved. Harrison started recording the music at the tail end of 1967, with sessions with several London-based Indian musicians and John Barham, an orchestrator who had worked with Ravi Shankar on Shankar's collaborations with Western musicians, including the Alice in Wonderland soundtrack we talked about in the "All You Need is Love" episode. For the Western music, he used the Remo Four, a Merseybeat group who had been on the scene even before the Beatles, and which contained a couple of classmates of Paul McCartney, but who had mostly acted as backing musicians for other artists. They'd backed Johnny Sandon, the former singer with the Searchers, on a couple of singles, before becoming the backing band for Tommy Quickly, a NEMS artist who was unsuccessful despite starting his career with a Lennon/McCartney song, "Tip of My Tongue": [Excerpt: Tommy Quickly, "Tip of My Tongue"] The Remo Four would later, after a lineup change, become Ashton, Gardner and Dyke, who would become one-hit wonders in the seventies, and during the Wonderwall sessions they recorded a song that went unreleased at the time, and which would later go on to be rerecorded by Ashton, Gardner, and Dyke. "In the First Place" also features Harrison on backing vocals and possibly guitar, and was not submitted for the film because Harrison didn't believe that Massot wanted any vocal tracks, but the recording was later discovered and used in a revised director's cut of the film in the nineties: [Excerpt: The Remo Four, "In the First Place"] But for the most part the Remo Four were performing instrumentals written by Harrison. They weren't the only Western musicians performing on the sessions though -- Peter Tork of the Monkees dropped by these sessions and recorded several short banjo solos, which were used in the film soundtrack but not in the soundtrack album (presumably because Tork was contracted to another label): [Excerpt: Peter Tork, "Wonderwall banjo solo"] Another musician who was under contract to another label was Eric Clapton, who at the time was playing with The Cream, and who vaguely knew Harrison and so joined in for the track "Ski-ing", playing lead guitar under the cunning, impenetrable, pseudonym "Eddie Clayton", with Harrison on sitar, Starr on drums, and session guitarist Big Jim Sullivan on bass: [Excerpt: George Harrison, "Ski-ing"] But the bulk of the album was recorded in EMI's studios in the city that is now known as Mumbai but at the time was called Bombay. The studio facilities in India had up to that point only had a mono tape recorder, and Bhaskar Menon, one of the top executives at EMI's Indian division and later the head of EMI music worldwide, personally brought the first stereo tape recorder to the studio to aid in Harrison's recording. The music was all composed by Harrison and performed by the Indian musicians, and while Harrison was composing in an Indian mode, the musicians were apparently fascinated by how Western it sounded to them: [Excerpt: George Harrison, "Microbes"] While he was there, Harrison also got the instrumentalists to record another instrumental track, which wasn't to be used for the film: [Excerpt: George Harrison, "The Inner Light (instrumental)"] That track would, instead, become part of what was to be Harrison's first composition to make a side of a Beatles single. After John and George had appeared on the David Frost show talking about the Maharishi, in September 1967, George had met a lecturer in Sanskrit named Juan Mascaró, who wrote to Harrison enclosing a book he'd compiled of translations of religious texts, telling him he'd admired "Within You Without You" and thought it would be interesting if Harrison set something from the Tao Te Ching to music. He suggested a text that, in his translation, read: "Without going out of my door I can know all things on Earth Without looking out of my window I can know the ways of heaven For the farther one travels, the less one knows The sage, therefore Arrives without travelling Sees all without looking Does all without doing" Harrison took that text almost verbatim, though he created a second verse by repeating the first few lines with "you" replacing "I" -- concerned that listeners might think he was just talking about himself, and wouldn't realise it was a more general statement -- and he removed the "the sage, therefore" and turned the last few lines into imperative commands rather than declarative statements: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "The Inner Light"] The song has come in for some criticism over the years as being a little Orientalist, because in critics' eyes it combines Chinese philosophy with Indian music, as if all these things are equally "Eastern" and so all the same really. On the other hand there's a good argument that an English songwriter taking a piece of writing written in Chinese and translated into English by a Spanish man and setting it to music inspired by Indian musical modes is a wonderful example of cultural cross-pollination. As someone who's neither Chinese nor Indian I wouldn't want to take a stance on it, but clearly the other Beatles were impressed by it -- they put it out as the B-side to their next single, even though the only Beatles on it are Harrison and McCartney, with the latter adding a small amount of harmony vocal: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "The Inner Light"] And it wasn't because the group were out of material. They were planning on going to Rishikesh to study with the Maharishi, and wanted to get a single out for release while they were away, and so in one week they completed the vocal overdubs on "The Inner Light" and recorded three other songs, two by John and one by Paul. All three of the group's songwriters brought in songs that were among their best. John's first contribution was a song whose lyrics he later described as possibly the best he ever wrote, "Across the Universe". He said the lyrics were “purely inspirational and were given to me as boom! I don't own it, you know; it came through like that … Such an extraordinary meter and I can never repeat it! It's not a matter of craftsmanship, it wrote itself. It drove me out of bed. I didn't want to write it … It's like being possessed, like a psychic or a medium.” But while Lennon liked the song, he was never happy with the recording of it. They tried all sorts of things to get the sound he heard in his head, including bringing in some fans who were hanging around outside to sing backing vocals. He said of the track "I was singing out of tune and instead of getting a decent choir, we got fans from outside, Apple Scruffs or whatever you call them. They came in and were singing all off-key. Nobody was interested in doing the tune originally.” [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Across the Universe"] The "jai guru deva" chorus there is the first reference to the teachings of the Maharishi in one of the Beatles' records -- Guru Dev was the Maharishi's teacher, and the phrase "Jai guru dev" is a Sanskrit one which I've seen variously translated as "victory to the great teacher", and "hail to the greatness within you". Lennon would say shortly before his death “The Beatles didn't make a good record out of it. I think subconsciously sometimes we – I say ‘we' though I think Paul did it more than the rest of us – Paul would sort of subconsciously try and destroy a great song … Usually we'd spend hours doing little detailed cleaning-ups of Paul's songs, when it came to mine, especially if it was a great song like ‘Strawberry Fields' or ‘Across The Universe', somehow this atmosphere of looseness and casualness and experimentation would creep in … It was a _lousy_ track of a great song and I was so disappointed by it …The guitars are out of tune and I'm singing out of tune because I'm psychologically destroyed and nobody's supporting me or helping me with it, and the song was never done properly.” Of course, this is only Lennon's perception, and it's one that the other participants would disagree with. George Martin, in particular, was always rather hurt by the implication that Lennon's songs had less attention paid to them, and he would always say that the problem was that Lennon in the studio would always say "yes, that's great", and only later complain that it hadn't been what he wanted. No doubt McCartney did put in more effort on his own songs than on Lennon's -- everyone has a bias towards their own work, and McCartney's only human -- but personally I suspect that a lot of the problem comes down to the two men having very different personalities. McCartney had very strong ideas about his own work and would drive the others insane with his nitpicky attention to detail. Lennon had similarly strong ideas, but didn't have the attention span to put the time and effort in to force his vision on others, and didn't have the technical knowledge to express his ideas in words they'd understand. He expected Martin and the other Beatles to work miracles, and they did -- but not the miracles he would have worked. That track was, rather than being chosen for the next single, given to Spike Milligan, who happened to be visiting the studio and was putting together an album for the environmental charity the World Wildlife Fund. The album was titled "No One's Gonna Change Our World": [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Across the Universe"] That track is historic in another way -- it would be the last time that George Harrison would play sitar on a Beatles record, and it effectively marks the end of the period of psychedelia and Indian influence that had started with "Norwegian Wood" three years earlier, and which many fans consider their most creative period. Indeed, shortly after the recording, Harrison would give up the sitar altogether and stop playing it. He loved sitar music as much as he ever had, and he still thought that Indian classical music spoke to him in ways he couldn't express, and he continued to be friends with Ravi Shankar for the rest of his life, and would only become more interested in Indian religious thought. But as he spent time with Shankar he realised he would never be as good on the sitar as he hoped. He said later "I thought, 'Well, maybe I'm better off being a pop singer-guitar-player-songwriter – whatever-I'm-supposed-to-be' because I've seen a thousand sitar-players in India who are twice as better as I'll ever be. And only one of them Ravi thought was going to be a good player." We don't have a precise date for when it happened -- I suspect it was in June 1968, so a few months after the "Across the Universe" recording -- but Shankar told Harrison that rather than try to become a master of a music that he hadn't encountered until his twenties, perhaps he should be making the music that was his own background. And as Harrison put it "I realised that was riding my bike down a street in Liverpool and hearing 'Heartbreak Hotel' coming out of someone's house.": [Excerpt: Elvis Presley, "Heartbreak Hotel"] In early 1968 a lot of people seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as if Christmas 1967 had been the flick of a switch and instead of whimsy and ornamentation, the thing to do was to make music that was influenced by early rock and roll. In the US the Band and Bob Dylan were making music that was consciously shorn of all studio experimentation, while in the UK there was a revival of fifties rock and roll. In April 1968 both "Peggy Sue" and "Rock Around the Clock" reentered the top forty in the UK, and the Who were regularly including "Summertime Blues" in their sets. Fifties nostalgia, which would make occasional comebacks for at least the next forty years, was in its first height, and so it's not surprising that Paul McCartney's song, "Lady Madonna", which became the A-side of the next single, has more than a little of the fifties about it. Of course, the track isn't *completely* fifties in its origins -- one of the inspirations for the track seems to have been the Rolling Stones' then-recent hit "Let's Spend The Night Together": [Excerpt: The Rolling Stones, "Let's Spend the Night Together"] But the main source for the song's music -- and for the sound of the finished record -- seems to have been Johnny Parker's piano part on Humphrey Lyttleton's "Bad Penny Blues", a hit single engineered by Joe Meek in the fifties: [Excerpt: Humphrey Lyttleton, "Bad Penny Blues"] That song seems to have been on the group's mind for a while, as a working title for "With a Little Help From My Friends" had at one point been "Bad Finger Blues" -- a title that would later give the name to a band on Apple. McCartney took Parker's piano part as his inspiration, and as he later put it “‘Lady Madonna' was me sitting down at the piano trying to write a bluesy boogie-woogie thing. I got my left hand doing an arpeggio thing with the chord, an ascending boogie-woogie left hand, then a descending right hand. I always liked that, the juxtaposition of a line going down meeting a line going up." [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Lady Madonna"] That idea, incidentally, is an interesting reversal of what McCartney had done on "Hello, Goodbye", where the bass line goes down while the guitar moves up -- the two lines moving away from each other: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Hello Goodbye"] Though that isn't to say there's no descending bass in "Lady Madonna" -- the bridge has a wonderful sequence where the bass just *keeps* *descending*: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Lady Madonna"] Lyrically, McCartney was inspired by a photo in National Geographic of a woman in Malaysia, captioned “Mountain Madonna: with one child at her breast and another laughing into her face, sees her quality of life threatened.” But as he put it “The people I was brought up amongst were often Catholic; there are lots of Catholics in Liverpool because of the Irish connection and they are often religious. When they have a baby I think they see a big connection between themselves and the Virgin Mary with her baby. So the original concept was the Virgin Mary but it quickly became symbolic of every woman; the Madonna image but as applied to ordinary working class woman. It's really a tribute to the mother figure, it's a tribute to women.” Musically though, the song was more a tribute to the fifties -- while the inspiration had been a skiffle hit by Humphrey Lyttleton, as soon as McCartney started playing it he'd thought of Fats Domino, and the lyric reflects that to an extent -- just as Domino's "Blue Monday" details the days of the week for a weary working man who only gets to enjoy himself on Saturday night, "Lady Madonna"'s lyrics similarly look at the work a mother has to do every day -- though as McCartney later noted "I was writing the words out to learn it for an American TV show and I realised I missed out Saturday ... So I figured it must have been a real night out." The vocal was very much McCartney doing a Domino impression -- something that wasn't lost on Fats, who cut his own version of the track later that year: [Excerpt: Fats Domino, "Lady Madonna"] The group were so productive at this point, right before the journey to India, that they actually cut another song *while they were making a video for "Lady Madonna"*. They were booked into Abbey Road to film themselves performing the song so it could be played on Top of the Pops while they were away, but instead they decided to use the time to cut a new song -- John had a partially-written song, "Hey Bullfrog", which was roughly the same tempo as "Lady Madonna", so they could finish that up and then re-edit the footage to match the record. The song was quickly finished and became "Hey Bulldog": [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Hey Bulldog"] One of Lennon's best songs from this period, "Hey Bulldog" was oddly chosen only to go on the soundtrack of Yellow Submarine. Either the band didn't think much of it because it had come so easily, or it was just assigned to the film because they were planning on being away for several months and didn't have any other projects they were working on. The extent of the group's contribution to the film was minimal – they were not very hands-on, and the film, which was mostly done as an attempt to provide a third feature film for their United Artists contract without them having to do any work, was made by the team that had done the Beatles cartoon on American TV. There's some evidence that they had a small amount of input in the early story stages, but in general they saw the cartoon as an irrelevance to them -- the only things they contributed were the four songs "All Together Now", "It's All Too Much", "Hey Bulldog" and "Only a Northern Song", and a brief filmed appearance for the very end of the film, recorded in January: [Excerpt: Yellow Submarine film end] McCartney also took part in yet another session in early February 1968, one produced by Peter Asher, his fiancee's brother, and former singer with Peter and Gordon. Asher had given up on being a pop star and was trying to get into the business side of music, and he was starting out as a producer, producing a single by Paul Jones, the former lead singer of Manfred Mann. The A-side of the single, "And the Sun Will Shine", was written by the Bee Gees, the band that Robert Stigwood was managing: [Excerpt: Paul Jones, "And the Sun Will Shine"] While the B-side was an original by Jones, "The Dog Presides": [Excerpt: Paul Jones, "The Dog Presides"] Those tracks featured two former members of the Yardbirds, Jeff Beck and Paul Samwell-Smith, on guitar and bass, and Nicky Hopkins on piano. Asher asked McCartney to play drums on both sides of the single, saying later "I always thought he was a great, underrated drummer." McCartney was impressed by Asher's production, and asked him to get involved with the new Apple Records label that would be set up when the group returned from India. Asher eventually became head of A&R for the label. And even before "Lady Madonna" was mixed, the Beatles were off to India. Mal Evans, their roadie, went ahead with all their luggage on the fourteenth of February, so he could sort out transport for them on the other end, and then John and George followed on the fifteenth, with their wives Pattie and Cynthia and Pattie's sister Jenny (John and Cynthia's son Julian had been left with his grandmother while they went -- normally Cynthia wouldn't abandon Julian for an extended period of time, but she saw the trip as a way to repair their strained marriage). Paul and Ringo followed four days later, with Ringo's wife Maureen and Paul's fiancee Jane Asher. The retreat in Rishikesh was to become something of a celebrity affair. Along with the Beatles came their friend the singer-songwriter Donovan, and Donovan's friend and songwriting partner, whose name I'm not going to say here because it's a slur for Romani people, but will be known to any Donovan fans. Donovan at this point was also going through changes. Like the Beatles, he was largely turning away from drug use and towards meditation, and had recently written his hit single "There is a Mountain" based around a saying from Zen Buddhism: [Excerpt: Donovan, "There is a Mountain"] That was from his double-album A Gift From a Flower to a Garden, which had come out in December 1967. But also like John and Paul he was in the middle of the breakdown of a long-term relationship, and while he would remain with his then-partner until 1970, and even have another child with her, he was secretly in love with another woman. In fact he was secretly in love with two other women. One of them, Brian Jones' ex-girlfriend Linda, had moved to LA, become the partner of the singer Gram Parsons, and had appeared in the documentary You Are What You Eat with the Band and Tiny Tim. She had fallen out of touch with Donovan, though she would later become his wife. Incidentally, she had a son to Brian Jones who had been abandoned by his rock-star father -- the son's name is Julian. The other woman with whom Donovan was in love was Jenny Boyd, the sister of George Harrison's wife Pattie. Jenny at the time was in a relationship with Alexis Mardas, a TV repairman and huckster who presented himself as an electronics genius to the Beatles, who nicknamed him Magic Alex, and so she was unavailable, but Donovan had written a song about her, released as a single just before they all went to Rishikesh: [Excerpt: Donovan, "Jennifer Juniper"] Donovan considered himself and George Harrison to be on similar spiritual paths and called Harrison his "spirit-brother", though Donovan was more interested in Buddhism, which Harrison considered a corruption of the more ancient Hinduism, and Harrison encouraged Donovan to read Autobiography of a Yogi. It's perhaps worth noting that Donovan's father had a different take on the subject though, saying "You're not going to study meditation in India, son, you're following that wee lassie Jenny" Donovan and his friend weren't the only other celebrities to come to Rishikesh. The actor Mia Farrow, who had just been through a painful divorce from Frank Sinatra, and had just made Rosemary's Baby, a horror film directed by Roman Polanski with exteriors shot at the Dakota building in New York, arrived with her sister Prudence. Also on the trip was Paul Horn, a jazz saxophonist who had played with many of the greats of jazz, not least of them Duke Ellington, whose Sweet Thursday Horn had played alto sax on: [Excerpt: Duke Ellington, "Zweet Zursday"] Horn was another musician who had been inspired to investigate Indian spirituality and music simultaneously, and the previous year he had recorded an album, "In India," of adaptations of ragas, with Ravi Shankar and Alauddin Khan: [Excerpt: Paul Horn, "Raga Vibhas"] Horn would go on to become one of the pioneers of what would later be termed "New Age" music, combining jazz with music from various non-Western traditions. Horn had also worked as a session musician, and one of the tracks he'd played on was "I Know There's an Answer" from the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds album: [Excerpt: The Beach Boys, "I Know There's an Answer"] Mike Love, who co-wrote that track and is one of the lead singers on it, was also in Rishikesh. While as we'll see not all of the celebrities on the trip would remain practitioners of Transcendental Meditation, Love would be profoundly affected by the trip, and remains a vocal proponent of TM to this day. Indeed, his whole band at the time were heavily into TM. While Love was in India, the other Beach Boys were working on the Friends album without him -- Love only appears on four tracks on that album -- and one of the tracks they recorded in his absence was titled "Transcendental Meditation": [Excerpt: The Beach Boys, "Transcendental Meditation"] But the trip would affect Love's songwriting, as it would affect all of the musicians there. One of the few songs on the Friends album on which Love appears is "Anna Lee, the Healer", a song which is lyrically inspired by the trip in the most literal sense, as it's about a masseuse Love met in Rishikesh: [Excerpt: The Beach Boys, "Anna Lee, the Healer"] The musicians in the group all influenced and inspired each other as is likely to happen in such circumstances. Sometimes, it would be a matter of trivial joking, as when the Beatles decided to perform an off-the-cuff song about Guru Dev, and did it in the Beach Boys style: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Spiritual Regeneration"] And that turned partway through into a celebration of Love for his birthday: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Spiritual Regeneration"] Decades later, Love would return the favour, writing a song about Harrison and their time together in Rishikesh. Like Donovan, Love seems to have considered Harrison his "spiritual brother", and he titled the song "Pisces Brothers": [Excerpt: Mike Love, "Pisces Brothers"] The musicians on the trip were also often making suggestions to each other about songs that would become famous for them. The musicians had all brought acoustic guitars, apart obviously from Ringo, who got a set of tabla drums when George ordered some Indian instruments to be delivered. George got a sitar, as at this point he hadn't quite given up on the instrument, and he gave Donovan a tamboura. Donovan started playing a melody on the tamboura, which is normally a drone instrument, inspired by the Scottish folk music he had grown up with, and that became his "Hurdy-Gurdy Man": [Excerpt: Donovan, "Hurdy Gurdy Man"] Harrison actually helped him with the song, writing a final verse inspired by the Maharishi's teachings, but in the studio Donovan's producer Mickie Most told him to cut the verse because the song was overlong, which apparently annoyed Harrison. Donovan includes that verse in his live performances of the song though -- usually while doing a fairly terrible impersonation of Harrison: [Excerpt: Donovan, "Hurdy Gurdy Man (live)"] And similarly, while McCartney was working on a song pastiching Chuck Berry and the Beach Boys, but singing about the USSR rather than the USA, Love suggested to him that for a middle-eight he might want to sing about the girls in the various Soviet regions: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Back in the USSR"] As all the guitarists on the retreat only had acoustic instruments, they were very keen to improve their acoustic playing, and they turned to Donovan, who unlike the rest of them was primarily an acoustic player, and one from a folk background. Donovan taught them the rudiments of Travis picking, the guitar style we talked about way back in the episodes on the Everly Brothers, as well as some of the tunings that had been introduced to British folk music by Davey Graham, giving them a basic grounding in the principles of English folk-baroque guitar, a style that had developed over the previous few years. Donovan has said in his autobiography that Lennon picked the technique up quickly (and that Harrison had already learned Travis picking from Chet Atkins records) but that McCartney didn't have the application to learn the style, though he picked up bits. That seems very unlike anything else I've read anywhere about Lennon and McCartney -- no-one has ever accused Lennon of having a surfeit of application -- and reading Donovan's book he seems to dislike McCartney and like Lennon and Harrison, so possibly that enters into it. But also, it may just be that Lennon was more receptive to Donovan's style at the time. According to McCartney, even before going to Rishikesh Lennon had been in a vaguely folk-music and country mode, and the small number of tapes he'd brought with him to Rishikesh included Buddy Holly, Dylan, and the progressive folk band The Incredible String Band, whose music would be a big influence on both Lennon and McCartney for the next year: [Excerpt: The Incredible String Band, "First Girl I Loved"] According to McCartney Lennon also brought "a tape the singer Jake Thackray had done for him... He was one of the people we bumped into at Abbey Road. John liked his stuff, which he'd heard on television. Lots of wordplay and very suggestive, so very much up John's alley. I was fascinated by his unusual guitar style. John did ‘Happiness Is A Warm Gun' as a Jake Thackray thing at one point, as I recall.” Thackray was a British chansonnier, who sang sweetly poignant but also often filthy songs about Yorkshire life, and his humour in particular will have appealed to Lennon. There's a story of Lennon meeting Thackray in Abbey Road and singing the whole of Thackray's song "The Statues", about two drunk men fighting a male statue to defend the honour of a female statue, to him: [Excerpt: Jake Thackray, "The Statues"] Given this was the music that Lennon was listening to, it's unsurprising that he was more receptive to Donovan's lessons, and the new guitar style he learned allowed him to expand his songwriting, at precisely the same time he was largely clean of drugs for the first time in several years, and he started writing some of the best songs he would ever write, often using these new styles: [Excerpt: The Beatles, "Julia"] That song is about Lennon's dead mother -- the first time he ever addressed her directly in a song, though it would be far from the last -- but it's also about someone else. That phrase "Ocean child" is a direct translation of the Japanese name "Yoko". We've talked about Yoko Ono a bit in recent episodes, and even briefly in a previous Beatles episode, but it's here that she really enters the story of the Beatles. Unfortunately, exactly *how* her relationship with John Lennon, which was to become one of the great legendary love stories in rock and roll history, actually started is the subject of some debate. Both of them were married when they first got together, and there have also been suggestions that Ono was more interested in McCartney than in Lennon at first -- suggestions which everyone involved has denied, and those denials have the ring of truth about them, but if that was the case it would also explain some of Lennon's more perplexing behaviour over the next year. By all accounts there was a certain amount of finessing of the story th
Episode 169 of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “Piece of My Heart" and the short, tragic life of Janis Joplin. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a half-hour bonus episode available, on "Spinning Wheel" by Blood, Sweat & Tears. Tilt Araiza has assisted invaluably by doing a first-pass edit, and will hopefully be doing so from now on. Check out Tilt's irregular podcasts at http://www.podnose.com/jaffa-cakes-for-proust and http://sitcomclub.com/ Resources There are two Mixcloud mixes this time. As there are so many songs by Big Brother and the Holding Company and Janis Joplin excerpted, and Mixcloud won't allow more than four songs by the same artist in any mix, I've had to post the songs not in quite the same order in which they appear in the podcast. But the mixes are here — one, two . For information on Janis Joplin I used three biographies -- Scars of Sweet Paradise by Alice Echols, Janis: Her Life and Music by Holly George-Warren, and Buried Alive by Myra Friedman. I also referred to the chapter '“Being Good Isn't Always Easy": Aretha Franklin, Janis Joplin, Dusty Springfield, and the Color of Soul' in Just Around Midnight: Rock and Roll and the Racial Imagination by Jack Hamilton. Some information on Bessie Smith came from Bessie Smith by Jackie Kay, a book I can't really recommend given the lack of fact-checking, and Bessie by Chris Albertson. I also referred to Blues Legacies and Black Feminism: Gertrude “Ma” Rainey, Bessie Smith, and Billie Holiday by Angela Y. Davis And the best place to start with Joplin's music is this five-CD box, which contains both Big Brother and the Holding Company albums she was involved in, plus her two studio albums and bonus tracks. Patreon This podcast is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Why not join them? Transcript Before I start, this episode contains discussion of drug addiction and overdose, alcoholism, mental illness, domestic abuse, child abandonment, and racism. If those subjects are likely to cause you upset, you may want to check the transcript or skip this one rather than listen. Also, a subject I should probably say a little more about in this intro because I know I have inadvertently caused upset to at least one listener with this in the past. When it comes to Janis Joplin, it is *impossible* to talk about her without discussing her issues with her weight and self-image. The way I write often involves me paraphrasing the opinions of the people I'm writing about, in a mode known as close third person, and sometimes that means it can look like I am stating those opinions as my own, and sometimes things I say in that mode which *I* think are obviously meant in context to be critiques of those attitudes can appear to others to be replicating them. At least once, I have seriously upset a fat listener when talking about issues related to weight in this manner. I'm going to try to be more careful here, but just in case, I'm going to say before I begin that I think fatphobia is a pernicious form of bigotry, as bad as any other form of bigotry. I'm fat myself and well aware of how systemic discrimination affects fat people. I also think more generally that the pressure put on women to look a particular way is pernicious and disgusting in ways I can't even begin to verbalise, and causes untold harm. If *ANYTHING* I say in this episode comes across as sounding otherwise, that's because I haven't expressed myself clearly enough. Like all people, Janis Joplin had negative characteristics, and at times I'm going to say things that are critical of those. But when it comes to anything to do with her weight or her appearance, if *anything* I say sounds critical of her, rather than of a society that makes women feel awful for their appearance, it isn't meant to. Anyway, on with the show. On January the nineteenth, 1943, Seth Joplin typed up a letter to his wife Dorothy, which read “I wish to tender my congratulations on the anniversary of your successful completion of your production quota for the nine months ending January 19, 1943. I realize that you passed through a period of inflation such as you had never before known—yet, in spite of this, you met your goal by your supreme effort during the early hours of January 19, a good three weeks ahead of schedule.” As you can probably tell from that message, the Joplin family were a strange mixture of ultraconformism and eccentricity, and those two opposing forces would dominate the personality of their firstborn daughter for the whole of her life. Seth Joplin was a respected engineer at Texaco, where he worked for forty years, but he had actually dropped out of engineering school before completing his degree. His favourite pastime when he wasn't at work was to read -- he was a voracious reader -- and to listen to classical music, which would often move him to tears, but he had also taught himself to make bathtub gin during prohibition, and smoked cannabis. Dorothy, meanwhile, had had the possibility of a singing career before deciding to settle down and become a housewife, and was known for having a particularly beautiful soprano voice. Both were, by all accounts, fiercely intelligent people, but they were also as committed as anyone to the ideals of the middle-class family even as they chafed against its restrictions. Like her mother, young Janis had a beautiful soprano voice, and she became a soloist in her church choir, but after the age of six, she was not encouraged to sing much. Dorothy had had a thyroid operation which destroyed her singing voice, and the family got rid of their piano soon after (different sources say that this was either because Dorothy found her daughter's singing painful now that she couldn't sing herself, or because Seth was upset that his wife could no longer sing. Either seems plausible.) Janis was pushed to be a high-achiever -- she was given a library card as soon as she could write her name, and encouraged to use it, and she was soon advanced in school, skipping a couple of grades. She was also by all accounts a fiercely talented painter, and her parents paid for art lessons. From everything one reads about her pre-teen years, she was a child prodigy who was loved by everyone and who was clearly going to be a success of some kind. Things started to change when she reached her teenage years. Partly, this was just her getting into rock and roll music, which her father thought a fad -- though even there, she differed from her peers. She loved Elvis, but when she heard "Hound Dog", she loved it so much that she tracked down a copy of Big Mama Thornton's original, and told her friends she preferred that: [Excerpt: Big Mama Thornton, "Hound Dog"] Despite this, she was still also an exemplary student and overachiever. But by the time she turned fourteen, things started to go very wrong for her. Partly this was just down to her relationship with her father changing -- she adored him, but he became more distant from his daughters as they grew into women. But also, puberty had an almost wholly negative effect on her, at least by the standards of that time and place. She put on weight (which, again, I do not think is a negative thing, but she did, and so did everyone around her), she got a bad case of acne which didn't ever really go away, and she also didn't develop breasts particularly quickly -- which, given that she was a couple of years younger than the other people in the same classes at school, meant she stood out even more. In the mid-sixties, a doctor apparently diagnosed her as having a "hormone imbalance" -- something that got to her as a possible explanation for why she was, to quote from a letter she wrote then, "not really a woman or enough of one or something." She wondered if "maybe something as simple as a pill could have helped out or even changed that part of me I call ME and has been so messed up.” I'm not a doctor and even if I were, diagnosing historical figures is an unethical thing to do, but certainly the acne, weight gain, and mental health problems she had are all consistent with PCOS, the most common endocrine disorder among women, and it seems likely given what the doctor told her that this was the cause. But at the time all she knew was that she was different, and that in the eyes of her fellow students she had gone from being pretty to being ugly. She seems to have been a very trusting, naive, person who was often the brunt of jokes but who desperately needed to be accepted, and it became clear that her appearance wasn't going to let her fit into the conformist society she was being brought up in, while her high intelligence, low impulse control, and curiosity meant she couldn't even fade into the background. This left her one other option, and she decided that she would deliberately try to look and act as different from everyone else as possible. That way, it would be a conscious choice on her part to reject the standards of her fellow pupils, rather than her being rejected by them. She started to admire rebels. She became a big fan of Jerry Lee Lewis, whose music combined the country music she'd grown up hearing in Texas, the R&B she liked now, and the rebellious nature she was trying to cultivate: [Excerpt: Jerry Lee Lewis, "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On"] When Lewis' career was derailed by his marriage to his teenage cousin, Joplin wrote an angry letter to Time magazine complaining that they had mistreated him in their coverage. But as with so many people of her generation, her love of rock and roll music led her first to the blues and then to folk, and she soon found herself listening to Odetta: [Excerpt: Odetta, "Muleskinner Blues"] One of her first experiences of realising she could gain acceptance from her peers by singing was when she was hanging out with the small group of Bohemian teenagers she was friendly with, and sang an Odetta song, mimicking her voice exactly. But young Janis Joplin was listening to an eclectic range of folk music, and could mimic more than just Odetta. For all that her later vocal style was hugely influenced by Odetta and by other Black singers like Big Mama Thornton and Etta James, her friends in her late teens and early twenties remember her as a vocal chameleon with an achingly pure soprano, who would more often than Odetta be imitating the great Appalachian traditional folk singer Jean Ritchie: [Excerpt: Jean Ritchie, "Lord Randall"] She was, in short, trying her best to become a Beatnik, despite not having any experience of that subculture other than what she read in books -- though she *did* read about them in books, devouring things like Kerouac's On The Road. She came into conflict with her mother, who didn't understand what was happening to her daughter, and who tried to get family counselling to understand what was going on. Her father, who seemed to relate more to Janis, but who was more quietly eccentric, put an end to that, but Janis would still for the rest of her life talk about how her mother had taken her to doctors who thought she was going to end up "either in jail or an insane asylum" to use her words. From this point on, and for the rest of her life, she was torn between a need for approval from her family and her peers, and a knowledge that no matter what she did she couldn't fit in with normal societal expectations. In high school she was a member of the Future Nurses of America, the Future Teachers of America, the Art Club, and Slide Rule Club, but she also had a reputation as a wild girl, and as sexually active (even though by all accounts at this point she was far less so than most of the so-called "good girls" – but her later activity was in part because she felt that if she was going to have that reputation anyway she might as well earn it). She also was known to express radical opinions, like that segregation was wrong, an opinion that the other students in her segregated Texan school didn't even think was wrong, but possibly some sort of sign of mental illness. Her final High School yearbook didn't contain a single other student's signature. And her initial choice of university, Lamar State College of Technology, was not much better. In the next town over, and attended by many of the same students, it had much the same attitudes as the school she'd left. Almost the only long-term effect her initial attendance at university had on her was a negative one -- she found there was another student at the college who was better at painting. Deciding that if she wasn't going to be the best at something she didn't want to do it at all, she more or less gave up on painting at that point. But there was one positive. One of the lecturers at Lamar was Francis Edward "Ab" Abernethy, who would in the early seventies go on to become the Secretary and Editor of the Texas Folklore Society, and was also a passionate folk musician, playing double bass in string bands. Abernethy had a great collection of blues 78s. and it was through this collection that Janis first discovered classic blues, and in particular Bessie Smith: [Excerpt: Bessie Smith, "Black Mountain Blues"] A couple of episodes ago, we had a long look at the history of the music that now gets called "the blues" -- the music that's based around guitars, and generally involves a solo male vocalist, usually Black during its classic period. At the time that music was being made though it wouldn't have been thought of as "the blues" with no modifiers by most people who were aware of it. At the start, even the songs they were playing weren't thought of as blues by the male vocalist/guitarists who played them -- they called the songs they played "reels". The music released by people like Blind Lemon Jefferson, Son House, Robert Johnson, Kokomo Arnold and so on was thought of as blues music, and people would understand and agree with a phrase like "Lonnie Johnson is a blues singer", but it wasn't the first thing people thought of when they talked about "the blues". Until relatively late -- probably some time in the 1960s -- if you wanted to talk about blues music made by Black men with guitars and only that music, you talked about "country blues". If you thought about "the blues", with no qualifiers, you thought about a rather different style of music, one that white record collectors started later to refer to as "classic blues" to differentiate it from what they were now calling "the blues". Nowadays of course if you say "classic blues", most people will think you mean Muddy Waters or John Lee Hooker, people who were contemporary at the time those white record collectors were coming up with their labels, and so that style of music gets referred to as "vaudeville blues", or as "classic female blues": [Excerpt: Mamie Smith, "Crazy Blues"] What we just heard was the first big blues hit performed by a Black person, from 1920, and as we discussed in the episode on "Crossroads" that revolutionised the whole record industry when it came out. The song was performed by Mamie Smith, a vaudeville performer, and was originally titled "Harlem Blues" by its writer, Perry Bradford, before he changed the title to "Crazy Blues" to get it to a wider audience. Bradford was an important figure in the vaudeville scene, though other than being the credited writer of "Keep A-Knockin'" he's little known these days. He was a Black musician and grew up playing in minstrel shows (the history of minstrelsy is a topic for another day, but it's more complicated than the simple image of blackface that we are aware of today -- though as with many "more complicated than that" things it is, also the simple image of blackface we're aware of). He was the person who persuaded OKeh records that there would be a market for music made by Black people that sounded Black (though as we're going to see in this episode, what "sounding Black" means is a rather loaded question). "Crazy Blues" was the result, and it was a massive hit, even though it was marketed specifically towards Black listeners: [Excerpt: Mamie Smith, "Crazy Blues"] The big stars of the early years of recorded blues were all making records in the shadow of "Crazy Blues", and in the case of its very biggest stars, they were working very much in the same mould. The two most important blues stars of the twenties both got their start in vaudeville, and were both women. Ma Rainey, like Mamie Smith, first performed in minstrel shows, but where Mamie Smith's early records had her largely backed by white musicians, Rainey was largely backed by Black musicians, including on several tracks Louis Armstrong: [Excerpt: Ma Rainey, "See See Rider"] Rainey's band was initially led by Thomas Dorsey, one of the most important men in American music, who we've talked about before in several episodes, including the last one. He was possibly the single most important figure in two different genres -- hokum music, when he, under the name "Georgia Tom" recorded "It's Tight Like That" with Tampa Red: [Excerpt: Tampa Red and Georgia Tom, "It's Tight Like That"] And of course gospel music, which to all intents and purposes he invented, and much of whose repertoire he wrote: [Excerpt: Mahalia Jackson, "Take My Hand, Precious Lord"] When Dorsey left Rainey's band, as we discussed right back in episode five, he was replaced by a female pianist, Lil Henderson. The blues was a woman's genre. And Ma Rainey was, by preference, a woman's woman, though she was married to a man: [Excerpt: Ma Rainey, "Prove it on Me"] So was the biggest star of the classic blues era, who was originally mentored by Rainey. Bessie Smith, like Rainey, was a queer woman who had relationships with men but was far more interested in other women. There were stories that Bessie Smith actually got her start in the business by being kidnapped by Ma Rainey, and forced into performing on the same bills as her in the vaudeville show she was touring in, and that Rainey taught Smith to sing blues in the process. In truth, Rainey mentored Smith more in stagecraft and the ways of the road than in singing, and neither woman was only a blues singer, though both had huge success with their blues records. Indeed, since Rainey was already in the show, Smith was initially hired as a dancer rather than a singer, and she also worked as a male impersonator. But Smith soon branched out on her own -- from the beginning she was obviously a star. The great jazz clarinettist Sidney Bechet later said of her "She had this trouble in her, this thing that would not let her rest sometimes, a meanness that came and took her over. But what she had was alive … Bessie, she just wouldn't let herself be; it seemed she couldn't let herself be." Bessie Smith was signed by Columbia Records in 1923, as part of the rush to find and record as many Black women blues singers as possible. Her first recording session produced "Downhearted Blues", which became, depending on which sources you read, either the biggest-selling blues record since "Crazy Blues" or the biggest-selling blues record ever, full stop, selling three quarters of a million copies in the six months after its release: [Excerpt: Bessie Smith, "Downhearted Blues"] Smith didn't make royalties off record sales, only making a flat fee, but she became the most popular Black performer of the 1920s. Columbia signed her to an exclusive contract, and she became so rich that she would literally travel between gigs on her own private train. She lived an extravagant life in every way, giving lavishly to her friends and family, but also drinking extraordinary amounts of liquor, having regular affairs, and also often physically or verbally attacking those around her. By all accounts she was not a comfortable person to be around, and she seemed to be trying to fit an entire lifetime into every moment. From 1923 through 1929 she had a string of massive hits. She recorded material in a variety of styles, including the dirty blues: [Excerpt: Bessie Smith, "Empty Bed Blues] And with accompanists like Louis Armstrong: [Excerpt: Bessie Smith with Louis Armstrong, "Cold in Hand Blues"] But the music for which she became best known, and which sold the best, was when she sang about being mistreated by men, as on one of her biggest hits, "'Tain't Nobody's Biz-Ness if I Do" -- and a warning here, I'm going to play a clip of the song, which treats domestic violence in a way that may be upsetting: [Excerpt: Bessie Smith, "'Tain't Nobody's Biz-Ness if I Do"] That kind of material can often seem horrifying to today's listeners -- and quite correctly so, as domestic violence is a horrifying thing -- and it sounds entirely too excusing of the man beating her up for anyone to find it comfortable listening. But the Black feminist scholar Angela Davis has made a convincing case that while these records, and others by Smith's contemporaries, can't reasonably be considered to be feminist, they *are* at the very least more progressive than they now seem, in that they were, even if excusing it, pointing to a real problem which was otherwise left unspoken. And that kind of domestic violence and abuse *was* a real problem, including in Smith's own life. By all accounts she was terrified of her husband, Jack Gee, who would frequently attack her because of her affairs with other people, mostly women. But she was still devastated when he left her for a younger woman, not only because he had left her, but also because he kidnapped their adopted son and had him put into a care home, falsely claiming she had abused him. Not only that, but before Jack left her closest friend had been Jack's niece Ruby and after the split she never saw Ruby again -- though after her death Ruby tried to have a blues career as "Ruby Smith", taking her aunt's surname and recording a few tracks with Sammy Price, the piano player who worked with Sister Rosetta Tharpe: [Excerpt: Ruby Smith with Sammy Price, "Make Me Love You"] The same month, May 1929, that Gee left her, Smith recorded what was to become her last big hit, and most well-known song, "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out": [Excerpt: Bessie Smith, "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out"] And that could have been the theme for the rest of her life. A few months after that record came out, the Depression hit, pretty much killing the market for blues records. She carried on recording until 1931, but the records weren't selling any more. And at the same time, the talkies came in in the film industry, which along with the Depression ended up devastating the vaudeville audience. Her earnings were still higher than most, but only a quarter of what they had been a year or two earlier. She had one last recording session in 1933, produced by John Hammond for OKeh Records, where she showed that her style had developed over the years -- it was now incorporating the newer swing style, and featured future swing stars Benny Goodman and Jack Teagarden in the backing band: [Excerpt: Bessie Smith, "Gimme a Pigfoot"] Hammond was not hugely impressed with the recordings, preferring her earlier records, and they would be the last she would ever make. She continued as a successful, though no longer record-breaking, live act until 1937, when she and her common-law husband, Lionel Hampton's uncle Richard Morgan, were in a car crash. Morgan escaped, but Smith died of her injuries and was buried on October the fourth 1937. Ten thousand people came to her funeral, but she was buried in an unmarked grave -- she was still legally married to Gee, even though they'd been separated for eight years, and while he supposedly later became rich from songwriting royalties from some of her songs (most of her songs were written by other people, but she wrote a few herself) he refused to pay for a headstone for her. Indeed on more than one occasion he embezzled money that had been raised by other people to provide a headstone. Bessie Smith soon became Joplin's favourite singer of all time, and she started trying to copy her vocals. But other than discovering Smith's music, Joplin seems to have had as terrible a time at university as at school, and soon dropped out and moved back in with her parents. She went to business school for a short while, where she learned some secretarial skills, and then she moved west, going to LA where two of her aunts lived, to see if she could thrive better in a big West Coast city than she did in small-town Texas. Soon she moved from LA to Venice Beach, and from there had a brief sojourn in San Francisco, where she tried to live out her beatnik fantasies at a time when the beatnik culture was starting to fall apart. She did, while she was there, start smoking cannabis, though she never got a taste for that drug, and took Benzedrine and started drinking much more heavily than she had before. She soon lost her job, moved back to Texas, and re-enrolled at the same college she'd been at before. But now she'd had a taste of real Bohemian life -- she'd been singing at coffee houses, and having affairs with both men and women -- and soon she decided to transfer to the University of Texas at Austin. At this point, Austin was very far from the cultural centre it has become in recent decades, and it was still a straitlaced Texan town, but it was far less so than Port Arthur, and she soon found herself in a folk group, the Waller Creek Boys. Janis would play autoharp and sing, sometimes Bessie Smith covers, but also the more commercial country and folk music that was popular at the time, like "Silver Threads and Golden Needles", a song that had originally been recorded by Wanda Jackson but at that time was a big hit for Dusty Springfield's group The Springfields: [Excerpt: The Waller Creek Boys, "Silver Threads and Golden Needles"] But even there, Joplin didn't fit in comfortably. The venue where the folk jams were taking place was a segregated venue, as everywhere around Austin was. And she was enough of a misfit that the campus newspaper did an article on her headlined "She Dares to Be Different!", which read in part "She goes barefooted when she feels like it, wears Levi's to class because they're more comfortable, and carries her Autoharp with her everywhere she goes so that in case she gets the urge to break out into song it will be handy." There was a small group of wannabe-Beatniks, including Chet Helms, who we've mentioned previously in the Grateful Dead episode, Gilbert Shelton, who went on to be a pioneer of alternative comics and create the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers, and Shelton's partner in Rip-Off Press, Dave Moriarty, but for the most part the atmosphere in Austin was only slightly better for Janis than it had been in Port Arthur. The final straw for her came when in an annual charity fundraiser joke competition to find the ugliest man on campus, someone nominated her for the "award". She'd had enough of Texas. She wanted to go back to California. She and Chet Helms, who had dropped out of the university earlier and who, like her, had already spent some time on the West Coast, decided to hitch-hike together to San Francisco. Before leaving, she made a recording for her ex-girlfriend Julie Paul, a country and western musician, of a song she'd written herself. It's recorded in what many say was Janis' natural voice -- a voice she deliberately altered in performance in later years because, she would tell people, she didn't think there was room for her singing like that in an industry that already had Joan Baez and Judy Collins. In her early years she would alternate between singing like this and doing her imitations of Black women, but the character of Janis Joplin who would become famous never sang like this. It may well be the most honest thing that she ever recorded, and the most revealing of who she really was: [Excerpt: Janis Joplin, "So Sad to Be Alone"] Joplin and Helms made it to San Francisco, and she started performing at open-mic nights and folk clubs around the Bay Area, singing in her Bessie Smith and Odetta imitation voice, and sometimes making a great deal of money by sounding different from the wispier-voiced women who were the norm at those venues. The two friends parted ways, and she started performing with two other folk musicians, Larry Hanks and Roger Perkins, and she insisted that they would play at least one Bessie Smith song at every performance: [Excerpt: Janis Joplin, Larry Hanks, and Roger Perkins, "Black Mountain Blues (live in San Francisco)"] Often the trio would be joined by Billy Roberts, who at that time had just started performing the song that would make his name, "Hey Joe", and Joplin was soon part of the folk scene in the Bay Area, and admired by Dino Valenti, David Crosby, and Jerry Garcia among others. She also sang a lot with Jorma Kaukonnen, and recordings of the two of them together have circulated for years: [Excerpt: Janis Joplin and Jorma Kaukonnen, "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out"] Through 1963, 1964, and early 1965 Joplin ping-ponged from coast to coast, spending time in the Bay Area, then Greenwich Village, dropping in on her parents then back to the Bay Area, and she started taking vast quantities of methamphetamine. Even before moving to San Francisco she had been an occasional user of amphetamines – at the time they were regularly prescribed to students as study aids during exam periods, and she had also been taking them to try to lose some of the weight she always hated. But while she was living in San Francisco she became dependent on the drug. At one point her father was worried enough about her health to visit her in San Francisco, where she managed to fool him that she was more or less OK. But she looked to him for reassurance that things would get better for her, and he couldn't give it to her. He told her about a concept that he called the "Saturday night swindle", the idea that you work all week so you can go out and have fun on Saturday in the hope that that will make up for everything else, but that it never does. She had occasional misses with what would have been lucky breaks -- at one point she was in a motorcycle accident just as record labels were interested in signing her, and by the time she got out of the hospital the chance had gone. She became engaged to another speed freak, one who claimed to be an engineer and from a well-off background, but she was becoming severely ill from what was by now a dangerous amphetamine habit, and in May 1965 she decided to move back in with her parents, get clean, and have a normal life. Her new fiance was going to do the same, and they were going to have the conformist life her parents had always wanted, and which she had always wanted to want. Surely with a husband who loved her she could find a way to fit in and just be normal. She kicked the addiction, and wrote her fiance long letters describing everything about her family and the new normal life they were going to have together, and they show her painfully trying to be optimistic about the future, like one where she described her family to him: "My mother—Dorothy—worries so and loves her children dearly. Republican and Methodist, very sincere, speaks in clichés which she really means and is very good to people. (She thinks you have a lovely voice and is terribly prepared to like you.) My father—richer than when I knew him and kind of embarrassed about it—very well read—history his passion—quiet and very excited to have me home because I'm bright and we can talk (about antimatter yet—that impressed him)! I keep telling him how smart you are and how proud I am of you.…" She went back to Lamar, her mother started sewing her a wedding dress, and for much of the year she believed her fiance was going to be her knight in shining armour. But as it happened, the fiance in question was described by everyone else who knew him as a compulsive liar and con man, who persuaded her father to give him money for supposed medical tests before the wedding, but in reality was apparently married to someone else and having a baby with a third woman. After the engagement was broken off, she started performing again around the coffeehouses in Austin and Houston, and she started to realise the possibilities of rock music for her kind of performance. The missing clue came from a group from Austin who she became very friendly with, the Thirteenth Floor Elevators, and the way their lead singer Roky Erickson would wail and yell: [Excerpt: The 13th Floor Elevators, "You're Gonna Miss Me (live)"] If, as now seemed inevitable, Janis was going to make a living as a performer, maybe she should start singing rock music, because it seemed like there was money in it. There was even some talk of her singing with the Elevators. But then an old friend came to Austin from San Francisco with word from Chet Helms. A blues band had formed, and were looking for a singer, and they remembered her from the coffee houses. Would she like to go back to San Francisco and sing with them? In the time she'd been away, Helms had become hugely prominent in the San Francisco music scene, which had changed radically. A band from the area called the Charlatans had been playing a fake-Victorian saloon called the Red Dog in nearby Nevada, and had become massive with the people who a few years earlier had been beatniks: [Excerpt: The Charlatans, "32-20"] When their residency at the Red Dog had finished, several of the crowd who had been regulars there had become a collective of sorts called the Family Dog, and Helms had become their unofficial leader. And there's actually a lot packed into that choice of name. As we'll see in a few future episodes, a lot of West Coast hippies eventually started calling their collectives and communes families. This started as a way to get round bureaucracy -- if a helpful welfare officer put down that the unrelated people living in a house together were a family, suddenly they could get food stamps. As with many things, of course, the label then affected how people thought about themselves, and one thing that's very notable about the San Francisco scene hippies in particular is that they are some of the first people to make a big deal about what we now call "found family" or "family of choice". But it's also notable how often the hippie found families took their model from the only families these largely middle-class dropouts had ever known, and structured themselves around men going out and doing the work -- selling dope or panhandling or being rock musicians or shoplifting -- with the women staying at home doing the housework. The Family Dog started promoting shows, with the intention of turning San Francisco into "the American Liverpool", and soon Helms was rivalled only by Bill Graham as the major promoter of rock shows in the Bay Area. And now he wanted Janis to come back and join this new band. But Janis was worried. She was clean now. She drank far too much, but she wasn't doing any other drugs. She couldn't go back to San Francisco and risk getting back on methamphetamine. She needn't worry about that, she was told, nobody in San Francisco did speed any more, they were all on LSD -- a drug she hated and so wasn't in any danger from. Reassured, she made the trip back to San Francisco, to join Big Brother and the Holding Company. Big Brother and the Holding Company were the epitome of San Francisco acid rock at the time. They were the house band at the Avalon Ballroom, which Helms ran, and their first ever gig had been at the Trips Festival, which we talked about briefly in the Grateful Dead episode. They were known for being more imaginative than competent -- lead guitarist James Gurley was often described as playing parts that were influenced by John Cage, but was equally often, and equally accurately, described as not actually being able to keep his guitar in tune because he was too stoned. But they were drawing massive crowds with their instrumental freak-out rock music. Helms thought they needed a singer, and he had remembered Joplin, who a few of the group had seen playing the coffee houses. He decided she would be perfect for them, though Joplin wasn't so sure. She thought it was worth a shot, but as she wrote to her parents before meeting the group "Supposed to rehearse w/ the band this afternoon, after that I guess I'll know whether I want to stay & do that for awhile. Right now my position is ambivalent—I'm glad I came, nice to see the city, a few friends, but I'm not at all sold on the idea of becoming the poor man's Cher.” In that letter she also wrote "I'm awfully sorry to be such a disappointment to you. I understand your fears at my coming here & must admit I share them, but I really do think there's an awfully good chance I won't blow it this time." The band she met up with consisted of lead guitarist James Gurley, bass player Peter Albin, rhythm player Sam Andrew, and drummer David Getz. To start with, Peter Albin sang lead on most songs, with Joplin adding yelps and screams modelled on those of Roky Erickson, but in her first gig with the band she bowled everyone over with her lead vocal on the traditional spiritual "Down on Me", which would remain a staple of their live act, as in this live recording from 1968: [Excerpt: Big Brother and the Holding Company, "Down on Me (Live 1968)"] After that first gig in June 1966, it was obvious that Joplin was going to be a star, and was going to be the group's main lead vocalist. She had developed a whole new stage persona a million miles away from her folk performances. As Chet Helms said “Suddenly this person who would stand upright with her fists clenched was all over the stage. Roky Erickson had modeled himself after the screaming style of Little Richard, and Janis's initial stage presence came from Roky, and ultimately Little Richard. It was a very different Janis.” Joplin would always claim to journalists that her stage persona was just her being herself and natural, but she worked hard on every aspect of her performance, and far from the untrained emotional outpouring she always suggested, her vocal performances were carefully calculated pastiches of her influences -- mostly Bessie Smith, but also Big Mama Thornton, Odetta, Etta James, Tina Turner, and Otis Redding. That's not to say that those performances weren't an authentic expression of part of herself -- they absolutely were. But the ethos that dominated San Francisco in the mid-sixties prized self-expression over technical craft, and so Joplin had to portray herself as a freak of nature who just had to let all her emotions out, a wild woman, rather than someone who carefully worked out every nuance of her performances. Joplin actually got the chance to meet one of her idols when she discovered that Willie Mae Thornton was now living and regularly performing in the Bay Area. She and some of her bandmates saw Big Mama play a small jazz club, where she performed a song she wouldn't release on a record for another two years: [Excerpt: Big Mama Thornton, "Ball 'n' Chain"] Janis loved the song and scribbled down the lyrics, then went backstage to ask Big Mama if Big Brother could cover the song. She gave them her blessing, but told them "don't" -- and here she used a word I can't use with a clean rating -- "it up". The group all moved in together, communally, with their partners -- those who had them. Janis was currently single, having dumped her most recent boyfriend after discovering him shooting speed, as she was still determined to stay clean. But she was rapidly discovering that the claim that San Franciscans no longer used much speed had perhaps not been entirely true, as for example Sam Andrew's girlfriend went by the nickname Speedfreak Rita. For now, Janis was still largely clean, but she did start drinking more. Partly this was because of a brief fling with Pigpen from the Grateful Dead, who lived nearby. Janis liked Pigpen as someone else on the scene who didn't much like psychedelics or cannabis -- she didn't like drugs that made her think more, but only drugs that made her able to *stop* thinking (her love of amphetamines doesn't seem to fit this pattern, but a small percentage of people have a different reaction to amphetamine-type stimulants, perhaps she was one of those). Pigpen was a big drinker of Southern Comfort -- so much so that it would kill him within a few years -- and Janis started joining him. Her relationship with Pigpen didn't last long, but the two would remain close, and she would often join the Grateful Dead on stage over the years to duet with him on "Turn On Your Lovelight": [Excerpt: Janis Joplin and the Grateful Dead, "Turn on Your Lovelight"] But within two months of joining the band, Janis nearly left. Paul Rothchild of Elektra Records came to see the group live, and was impressed by their singer, but not by the rest of the band. This was something that would happen again and again over the group's career. The group were all imaginative and creative -- they worked together on their arrangements and their long instrumental jams and often brought in very good ideas -- but they were not the most disciplined or technically skilled of musicians, even when you factored in their heavy drug use, and often lacked the skill to pull off their better ideas. They were hugely popular among the crowds at the Avalon Ballroom, who were on the group's chemical wavelength, but Rothchild was not impressed -- as he was, in general, unimpressed with psychedelic freakouts. He was already of the belief in summer 1966 that the fashion for extended experimental freak-outs would soon come to an end and that there would be a pendulum swing back towards more structured and melodic music. As we saw in the episode on The Band, he would be proved right in a little over a year, but being ahead of the curve he wanted to put together a supergroup that would be able to ride that coming wave, a group that would play old-fashioned blues. He'd got together Stefan Grossman, Steve Mann, and Taj Mahal, and he wanted Joplin to be the female vocalist for the group, dueting with Mahal. She attended one rehearsal, and the new group sounded great. Elektra Records offered to sign them, pay their rent while they rehearsed, and have a major promotional campaign for their first release. Joplin was very, very, tempted, and brought the subject up to her bandmates in Big Brother. They were devastated. They were a family! You don't leave your family! She was meant to be with them forever! They eventually got her to agree to put off the decision at least until after a residency they'd been booked for in Chicago, and she decided to give them the chance, writing to her parents "I decided to stay w/the group but still like to think about the other thing. Trying to figure out which is musically more marketable because my being good isn't enough, I've got to be in a good vehicle.” The trip to Chicago was a disaster. They found that the people of Chicago weren't hugely interested in seeing a bunch of white Californians play the blues, and that the Midwest didn't have the same Bohemian crowds that the coastal cities they were used to had, and so their freak-outs didn't go down well either. After two weeks of their four-week residency, the club owner stopped paying them because they were so unpopular, and they had no money to get home. And then they were approached by Bob Shad. (For those who know the film Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, the Bob Shad in that film is named after this one -- Judd Apatow, the film's director, is Shad's grandson) This Shad was a record producer, who had worked with people like Big Bill Broonzy, Sarah Vaughan, Dinah Washington, and Billy Eckstine over an eighteen-year career, and had recently set up a new label, Mainstream Records. He wanted to sign Big Brother and the Holding Company. They needed money and... well, it was a record contract! It was a contract that took half their publishing, paid them a five percent royalty on sales, and gave them no advance, but it was still a contract, and they'd get union scale for the first session. In that first session in Chicago, they recorded four songs, and strangely only one, "Down on Me", had a solo Janis vocal. Of the other three songs, Sam Andrew and Janis dueted on Sam's song "Call on Me", Albin sang lead on the group composition "Blindman", and Gurley and Janis sang a cover of "All Is Loneliness", a song originally by the avant-garde street musician Moondog: [Excerpt: Big Brother and the Holding Company, "All is Loneliness"] The group weren't happy with the four songs they recorded -- they had to keep the songs to the length of a single, and the engineers made sure that the needles never went into the red, so their guitars sounded far more polite and less distorted than they were used to. Janis was fascinated by the overdubbing process, though, especially double-tracking, which she'd never tried before but which she turned out to be remarkably good at. And they were now signed to a contract, which meant that Janis wouldn't be leaving the group to go solo any time soon. The family were going to stay together. But on the group's return to San Francisco, Janis started doing speed again, encouraged by the people around the group, particularly Gurley's wife. By the time the group's first single, "Blindman" backed with "All is Loneliness", came out, she was an addict again. That initial single did nothing, but the group were fast becoming one of the most popular in the Bay Area, and almost entirely down to Janis' vocals and on-stage persona. Bob Shad had already decided in the initial session that while various band members had taken lead, Janis was the one who should be focused on as the star, and when they drove to LA for their second recording session it was songs with Janis leads that they focused on. At that second session, in which they recorded ten tracks in two days, the group recorded a mix of material including one of Janis' own songs, the blues track "Women is Losers", and a version of the old folk song "the Cuckoo Bird" rearranged by Albin. Again they had to keep the arrangements to two and a half minutes a track, with no extended soloing and a pop arrangement style, and the results sound a lot more like the other San Francisco bands, notably Jefferson Airplane, than like the version of the band that shows itself in their live performances: [Excerpt: Big Brother and the Holding Company, "Coo Coo"] After returning to San Francisco after the sessions, Janis went to see Otis Redding at the Fillmore, turning up several hours before the show started on all three nights to make sure she could be right at the front. One of the other audience members later recalled “It was more fascinating for me, almost, to watch Janis watching Otis, because you could tell that she wasn't just listening to him, she was studying something. There was some kind of educational thing going on there. I was jumping around like the little hippie girl I was, thinking This is so great! and it just stopped me in my tracks—because all of a sudden Janis drew you very deeply into what the performance was all about. Watching her watch Otis Redding was an education in itself.” Joplin would, for the rest of her life, always say that Otis Redding was her all-time favourite singer, and would say “I started singing rhythmically, and now I'm learning from Otis Redding to push a song instead of just sliding over it.” [Excerpt: Otis Redding, "I Can't Turn You Loose (live)"] At the start of 1967, the group moved out of the rural house they'd been sharing and into separate apartments around Haight-Ashbury, and they brought the new year in by playing a free show organised by the Hell's Angels, the violent motorcycle gang who at the time were very close with the proto-hippies in the Bay Area. Janis in particular always got on well with the Angels, whose drugs of choice, like hers, were speed and alcohol more than cannabis and psychedelics. Janis also started what would be the longest on-again off-again relationship she would ever have, with a woman named Peggy Caserta. Caserta had a primary partner, but that if anything added to her appeal for Joplin -- Caserta's partner Kimmie had previously been in a relationship with Joan Baez, and Joplin, who had an intense insecurity that made her jealous of any other female singer who had any success, saw this as in some way a validation both of her sexuality and, transitively, of her talent. If she was dating Baez's ex's lover, that in some way put her on a par with Baez, and when she told friends about Peggy, Janis would always slip that fact in. Joplin and Caserta would see each other off and on for the rest of Joplin's life, but they were never in a monogamous relationship, and Joplin had many other lovers over the years. The next of these was Country Joe McDonald of Country Joe and the Fish, who were just in the process of recording their first album Electric Music for the Mind and Body, when McDonald and Joplin first got together: [Excerpt: Country Joe and the Fish, "Grace"] McDonald would later reminisce about lying with Joplin, listening to one of the first underground FM radio stations, KMPX, and them playing a Fish track and a Big Brother track back to back. Big Brother's second single, the other two songs recorded in the Chicago session, had been released in early 1967, and the B-side, "Down on Me", was getting a bit of airplay in San Francisco and made the local charts, though it did nothing outside the Bay Area: [Excerpt: Big Brother and the Holding Company, "Down on Me"] Janis was unhappy with the record, though, writing to her parents and saying, “Our new record is out. We seem to be pretty dissatisfied w/it. I think we're going to try & get out of the record contract if we can. We don't feel that they know how to promote or engineer a record & every time we recorded for them, they get all our songs, which means we can't do them for another record company. But then if our new record does something, we'd change our mind. But somehow, I don't think it's going to." The band apparently saw a lawyer to see if they could get out of the contract with Mainstream, but they were told it was airtight. They were tied to Bob Shad no matter what for the next five years. Janis and McDonald didn't stay together for long -- they clashed about his politics and her greater fame -- but after they split, she asked him to write a song for her before they became too distant, and he obliged and recorded it on the Fish's next album: [Excerpt: Country Joe and the Fish, "Janis"] The group were becoming so popular by late spring 1967 that when Richard Lester, the director of the Beatles' films among many other classics, came to San Francisco to film Petulia, his follow-up to How I Won The War, he chose them, along with the Grateful Dead, to appear in performance segments in the film. But it would be another filmmaker that would change the course of the group's career irrevocably: [Excerpt: Scott McKenzie, "San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair)"] When Big Brother and the Holding Company played the Monterey Pop Festival, nobody had any great expectations. They were second on the bill on the Saturday, the day that had been put aside for the San Francisco acts, and they were playing in the early afternoon, after a largely unimpressive night before. They had a reputation among the San Francisco crowd, of course, but they weren't even as big as the Grateful Dead, Moby Grape or Country Joe and the Fish, let alone Jefferson Airplane. Monterey launched four careers to new heights, but three of the superstars it made -- Otis Redding, Jimi Hendrix, and the Who -- already had successful careers. Hendrix and the Who had had hits in the UK but not yet broken the US market, while Redding was massively popular with Black people but hadn't yet crossed over to a white audience. Big Brother and the Holding Company, on the other hand, were so unimportant that D.A. Pennebaker didn't even film their set -- their manager at the time had not wanted to sign over the rights to film their performance, something that several of the other acts had also refused -- and nobody had been bothered enough to make an issue of it. Pennebaker just took some crowd shots and didn't bother filming the band. The main thing he caught was Cass Elliot's open-mouthed astonishment at Big Brother's performance -- or rather at Janis Joplin's performance. The members of the group would later complain, not entirely inaccurately, that in the reviews of their performance at Monterey, Joplin's left nipple (the outline of which was apparently visible through her shirt, at least to the male reviewers who took an inordinate interest in such things) got more attention than her four bandmates combined. As Pennebaker later said “She came out and sang, and my hair stood on end. We were told we weren't allowed to shoot it, but I knew if we didn't have Janis in the film, the film would be a wash. Afterward, I said to Albert Grossman, ‘Talk to her manager or break his leg or whatever you have to do, because we've got to have her in this film. I can't imagine this film without this woman who I just saw perform.” Grossman had a talk with the organisers of the festival, Lou Adler and John Phillips, and they offered Big Brother a second spot, the next day, if they would allow their performance to be used in the film. The group agreed, after much discussion between Janis and Grossman, and against the wishes of their manager: [Excerpt: Big Brother and the Holding Company, "Ball and Chain (live at Monterey)"] They were now on Albert Grossman's radar. Or at least, Janis Joplin was. Joplin had always been more of a careerist than the other members of the group. They were in music to have a good time and to avoid working a straight job, and while some of them were more accomplished musicians than their later reputations would suggest -- Sam Andrew, in particular, was a skilled player and serious student of music -- they were fundamentally content with playing the Avalon Ballroom and the Fillmore and making five hundred dollars or so a week between them. Very good money for 1967, but nothing else. Joplin, on the other hand, was someone who absolutely craved success. She wanted to prove to her family that she wasn't a failure and that her eccentricity shouldn't stop them being proud of her; she was always, even at the depths of her addictions, fiscally prudent and concerned about her finances; and she had a deep craving for love. Everyone who talks about her talks about how she had an aching need at all times for approval, connection, and validation, which she got on stage more than she got anywhere else. The bigger the audience, the more they must love her. She'd made all her decisions thus far based on how to balance making music that she loved with commercial success, and this would continue to be the pattern for her in future. And so when journalists started to want to talk to her, even though up to that point Albin, who did most of the on-stage announcements, and Gurley, the lead guitarist, had considered themselves joint leaders of the band, she was eager. And she was also eager to get rid of their manager, who continued the awkward streak that had prevented their first performance at the Monterey Pop Festival from being filmed. The group had the chance to play the Hollywood Bowl -- Bill Graham was putting on a "San Francisco Sound" showcase there, featuring Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead, and got their verbal agreement to play, but after Graham had the posters printed up, their manager refused to sign the contracts unless they were given more time on stage. The next day after that, they played Monterey again -- this time the Monterey Jazz Festival. A very different crowd to the Pop Festival still fell for Janis' performance -- and once again, the film being made of the event didn't include Big Brother's set because of their manager. While all this was going on, the group's recordings from the previous year were rushed out by Mainstream Records as an album, to poor reviews which complained it was nothing like the group's set at Monterey: [Excerpt: Big Brother and the Holding Company, "Bye Bye Baby"] They were going to need to get out of that contract and sign with somewhere better -- Clive Davis at Columbia Records was already encouraging them to sign with him -- but to do that, they needed a better manager. They needed Albert Grossman. Grossman was one of the best negotiators in the business at that point, but he was also someone who had a genuine love for the music his clients made. And he had good taste -- he managed Odetta, who Janis idolised as a singer, and Bob Dylan, who she'd been a fan of since his first album came out. He was going to be the perfect manager for the group. But he had one condition though. His first wife had been a heroin addict, and he'd just been dealing with Mike Bloomfield's heroin habit. He had one absolutely ironclad rule, a dealbreaker that would stop him signing them -- they didn't use heroin, did they? Both Gurley and Joplin had used heroin on occasion -- Joplin had only just started, introduced to the drug by Gurley -- but they were only dabblers. They could give it up any time they wanted, right? Of course they could. They told him, in perfect sincerity, that the band didn't use heroin and it wouldn't be a problem. But other than that, Grossman was extremely flexible. He explained to the group at their first meeting that he took a higher percentage than other managers, but that he would also make them more money than other managers -- if money was what they wanted. He told them that they needed to figure out where they wanted their career to be, and what they were willing to do to get there -- would they be happy just playing the same kind of venues they were now, maybe for a little more money, or did they want to be as big as Dylan or Peter, Paul, and Mary? He could get them to whatever level they wanted, and he was happy with working with clients at every level, what did they actually want? The group were agreed -- they wanted to be rich. They decided to test him. They were making twenty-five thousand dollars a year between them at that time, so they got ridiculously ambitious. They told him they wanted to make a *lot* of money. Indeed, they wanted a clause in their contract saying the contract would be void if in the first year they didn't make... thinking of a ridiculous amount, they came up with seventy-five thousand dollars. Grossman's response was to shrug and say "Make it a hundred thousand." The group were now famous and mixing with superstars -- Peter Tork of the Monkees had become a close friend of Janis', and when they played a residency in LA they were invited to John and Michelle Phillips' house to see a rough cut of Monterey Pop. But the group, other than Janis, were horrified -- the film barely showed the other band members at all, just Janis. Dave Getz said later "We assumed we'd appear in the movie as a band, but seeing it was a shock. It was all Janis. They saw her as a superstar in the making. I realized that though we were finally going to be making money and go to another level, it also meant our little family was being separated—there was Janis, and there was the band.” [Excerpt: Big Brother and the Holding Company, "Bye Bye Baby"] If the group were going to make that hundred thousand dollars a year, they couldn't remain on Mainstream Records, but Bob Shad was not about to give up his rights to what could potentially be the biggest group in America without a fight. But luckily for the group, Clive Davis at Columbia had seen their Monterey performance, and he was also trying to pivot the label towards the new rock music. He was basically willing to do anything to get them. Eventually Columbia agreed to pay Shad two hundred thousand dollars for the group's contract -- Davis and Grossman negotiated so half that was an advance on the group's future earnings, but the other half was just an expense for the label. On top of that the group got an advance payment of fifty thousand dollars for their first album for Columbia, making a total investment by Columbia of a quarter of a million dollars -- in return for which they got to sign the band, and got the rights to the material they'd recorded for Mainstream, though Shad would get a two percent royalty on their first two albums for Columbia. Janis was intimidated by signing for Columbia, because that had been Aretha Franklin's label before she signed to Atlantic, and she regarded Franklin as the greatest performer in music at that time. Which may have had something to do with the choice of a new song the group added to their setlist in early 1968 -- one which was a current hit for Aretha's sister Erma: [Excerpt: Erma Franklin, "Piece of My Heart"] We talked a little in the last episode about the song "Piece of My Heart" itself, though mostly from the perspective of its performer, Erma Franklin. But the song was, as we mentioned, co-written by Bert Berns. He's someone we've talked about a little bit in previous episodes, notably the ones on "Here Comes the Night" and "Twist and Shout", but those were a couple of years ago, and he's about to become a major figure in the next episode, so we might as well take a moment here to remind listeners (or tell those who haven't heard those episodes) of the basics and explain where "Piece of My Heart" comes in Berns' work as a whole. Bert Berns was a latecomer to the music industry, not getting properly started until he was thirty-one, after trying a variety of other occupations. But when he did get started, he wasted no time making his mark -- he knew he had no time to waste. He had a weak heart and knew the likelihood was he was going to die young. He started an association with Wand records as a songwriter and performer, writing songs for some of Phil Spector's pre-fame recordings, and he also started producing records for Atlantic, where for a long while he was almost the equal of Jerry Wexler or Leiber and Stoller in terms of number of massive hits created. His records with Solomon Burke were the records that first got the R&B genre renamed soul (previously the word "soul" mostly referred to a kind of R&Bish jazz, rather than a kind of gospel-ish R&B). He'd also been one of the few American music industry professionals to work with British bands before the Beatles made it big in the USA, after he became alerted to the Beatles' success with his song "Twist and Shout", which he'd co-written with Phil Medley, and which had been a hit in a version Berns produced for the Isley Brothers: [Excerpt: The Isley Brothers, "Twist and Shout"] That song shows the two elements that existed in nearly every single Bert Berns song or production. The first is the Afro-Caribbean rhythm, a feel he picked up during a stint in Cuba in his twenties. Other people in the Atlantic records team were also partial to those rhythms -- Leiber and Stoller loved what they called the baion rhythm -- but Berns more than anyone else made it his signature. He also very specifically loved the song "La Bamba", especially Ritchie Valens' version of it: [Excerpt: Ritchie Valens, "La Bamba"] He basically seemed to think that was the greatest record ever made, and he certainly loved that three-chord trick I-IV-V-IV chord sequence -- almost but not quite the same as the "Louie Louie" one. He used it in nearly every song he wrote from that point on -- usually using a bassline that went something like this: [plays I-IV-V-IV bassline] He used it in "Twist and Shout" of course: [Excerpt: The Isley Brothers, "Twist and Shout"] He used it in "Hang on Sloopy": [Excerpt: The McCoys, "Hang on Sloopy"] He *could* get more harmonically sophisticated on occasion, but the vast majority of Berns' songs show the power of simplicity. They're usually based around three chords, and often they're actually only two chords, like "I Want Candy": [Excerpt: The Strangeloves, "I Want Candy"] Or the chorus to "Here Comes the Night" by Them, which is two chords for most of it and only introduces a third right at the end: [Excerpt: Them, "Here Comes the Night"] And even in that song you can hear the "Twist and Shout"/"La Bamba" feel, even if it's not exactly the same chords. Berns' whole career was essentially a way of wringing *every last possible drop* out of all the implications of Ritchie Valens' record. And so even when he did a more harmonically complex song, like "Piece of My Heart", which actually has some minor chords in the bridge, the "La Bamba" chord sequence is used in both the verse: [Excerpt: Erma Franklin, "Piece of My Heart"] And the chorus: [Excerpt: Erma Franklin, "Piece of My Heart"] Berns co-wrote “Piece of My Heart” with Jerry Ragavoy. Berns and Ragavoy had also written "Cry Baby" for Garnet Mimms, which was another Joplin favourite: [Excerpt: Garnet Mimms, "Cry Baby"] And Ragavoy, with other collaborators
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