Best of the Beatles

by Spencer Leigh

  Parlophone was a joke label, literally. Its big-selling albums included ‘At the Drop of a Hat’, ‘Songs for Swingin’ Sellers’ and ‘Beyond the Fringe’ and its artists included Charlie Drake, Spike Milligan and Bernard Cribbins.

  We now know that Parlophone was the Cinderella label of the EMI group, but in June 1962 it was the ugly sister. The popularity of its biggest act, Adam Faith, had nose-dived. George Martin: “I was pretty desperate for anything and I envied Columbia, which had so many hits with Cliff Richard. I saw Brian Epstein and heard his tapes. They weren’t very impressive but there was something peculiar about the way they sounded that I thought should be looked into. I asked Brian to bring them down from Liverpool so that I could have a look at them. I was immediately impressed by them as people, not particularly as musicians.”

  EMI recording engineer Harry Moss: “The Beatles came here in 1962 for an artist test in Studio 3 and that was the first time I met them. Around that era, before anybody was put on to tape to be recorded by a big organisation, they did a test first and I attended hundreds of these tests. I was blasé about it because of every hundred that you had to sit through and suffer; there would only be one that was any good. Frankly, I wasn’t impressed by the Beatles at that time.”

  At the audition, they played their stage favourite, ‘Besame Mucho’ and two songs written by John and Paul, ‘Love Me Do’ and ‘PS I Love You.’ In 1995, the original version of ‘Love Me Do’ was included on Anthology 1 and at last we could hear what George Martin heard. It is slower, rougher and has less sparkle then the hit single. Pete Best sounds as though he’s banging bin-lids and his drumming goes off on a strange tangent in the middle. If this was all George Martin heard of Pete Best, is it all that surprising that he was sacked?

  Pete Best: “George liked us and said, ‘Fine, rehearse ‘Love Me Do’ a little more and come back and we will put the finishing touches to it.’ At some time between that session and the next, I got kicked out.”

  George Martin: “I thought Pete was an essential part of the Beatles because of his image; there was a moody James Dean look about him. But I didn’t like his drumming. I didn’t think it held the Beatles together as it should have done, and I was determined that the Beatles weren’t going to suffer because of it. I told Brian that I was going to use a session drummer when we made records. I didn’t realise that the other boys had been thinking of getting rid of Pete anyway, and that my decision was like the last straw that broke the camel’s back. So Pete was given the boot, poor chap. It was hard luck on him, but it was inevitable.”

  I did something wrong

  * * *

  “What was the name of the drummer sacked by the Beatles and replaced by Ringo Starr?”

  University Challenge, BBC TV programme, April 1996 – no-one knew the answer

  Brian Epstein’s confidant, Peter Brown, writes in his biography, The Love You Make: “George Martin was particularly critical of Pete Best’s heavy, uninventive drumming. When the audition was over, the most George Martin would say was, ‘Maybe’.” In John, Paul and George’s minds, Pete Best was already doomed as he sat next to them in the van on the way back to Liverpool.” Dramatic, but not very accurate.

  Because of the Hamburg engagement, the Beatles had not played Liverpool for 2 months. From 9 June to 20 June 1962, they performed exclusively at the Cavern and recorded a second session for the BBC. For the radio programme, Here We Go, they performed ‘Ask Me Why’, which would end up as the B-side of ‘Please Please Me’, their old favourite ‘Besame Mucho’ and a contemporary hit, Joe Brown’s ‘A Picture of You’.

  On 21 June they performed at the Tower Ballroom on a Bob Wooler production, starring Bruce Channel and Delbert McClinton, the hit recorders of ‘Hey! Baby’. ‘Hey! Baby’ with its catchy harmonica riff was an influence on ‘Love Me Do’, although Frank Ifield puts in a claim for ‘I Remember You’. The Beatles performed ‘Hey! Baby’ and ‘I Remember You’ from time-to-time, both with John playing harmonica.

  Bruce Channel recalls, “It was a tremendous audience at that ballroom. I’d had a Number 1 record but I was surprised that so many people were there. Then I found out that the Beatles were on the bill and they went on just before me. John Lennon liked Delbert’s harmonica playing very much. I can remember him talking to Delbert quite a bit and Delbert was showing him how he played. I liked his harmonica on ‘Love Me Do’ very much, and I also liked the song.”

  Leo Sayer: “I was fascinated by the harmonica on the Beatles ‘Love Me Do’ as I’d never heard anyone play a harmonica like that before. All I knew was Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee who were all (demonstrates) chugga-chugga-chugga, just a rhythmic thing. John Lennon was using the harmonica to make a riff and what he was playing was more like a trumpet line. I played the harmonica myself and this was a very good influence on me.”

  Several Beatle books state that the EMI recording contract was kept secret from Pete Best, and yet the poster for the Tower Ballroom event states that the Beatles are ‘Parlophone Recording Artists.’ Didn’t Pete Best see the advertising?

  The weeks went by – the Beatles’ appearances centred around the Cavern, but there were some odd appearances such as the Barnston Women’s Institute (30 June 1962) and the Royal Iris on the River Mersey (6 July and 10 August). The Grafton Rooms (now known for its ‘Grab a Granny’ nights) succumbed to rock ’n’ roll on 3 August, with a bill featuring the Beatles, Gerry and the Pacemakers and the Big Three. Brian Epstein also presented two shows with the Beatles and Joe Brown and the Bruvvers, and Joe recalls, “I was one of the first persons from outside Liverpool that Brian Epstein actually booked. He booked the hall, put on the show and tried to make money out of it. I remember that we followed the Beatles. Normally, if you’re topping the bill, you finish the show; if you’re second top, you close the first half; Brian wanted the Beatles on just before me, hoping that the fans would be screaming so much that we wouldn’t be able to get on at first. It was a good trick and the Beatles were a real hard act to follow. We did it, mind you, to our credit, we did it.”

  Local musician Steve Kelly was at the Joe Brown/Beatles show at the Cambridge Hall in Southport. “I’d gone to see Joe Brown and I didn’t go into the hall for the Beatles. Someone told me that they were a greasy, noisy, sweaty band and I wasn’t missing out on anything.”

  Granada TV had seen the Beatles on that showcase and decided to film them at the Cavern for their Know the North programme. The filming would take place on 22 August and it would be the Beatles’ first TV appearance. In all probability, it precipitated Pete Best’s sacking as the Beatles wanted to be seen with a new drummer.

  Much to everyone’s surprise, Mona Best was pregnant. Musicians wondered who the father was as regular visitors to the Casbah had never seen Johnny Best there. It is common knowledge among Merseyside musicians that the father was the Beatles’ road manager Neil Aspinall, although this has never been revealed in any Beatles book. When the Beatles returned from Germany in June 1962, Neil left his regular employment as a trainee accountant and became their full-time roadie. He was very friendly with Pete Best and had lodgings at Hayman’s Green with the Best family.

  Roag Best was born on 21 July 1962. “At the time I thought Roag was Pete’s full brother,” says Beryl Marsden, “and many other musicians thought the same.” Johnny Guitar of Rory Storm and the Hurricanes: “I got on very well with Mona Best and so did Rory, but I never met Johnny Best. Pete told Rory the truth, and Rory told me that Neil was his father when Mona Best was pregnant.”

  The birth was registered by Mona Best on 31 August 1962 and the certificate gives her son’s name as Vincent Rogue Best (sic). She lists herself, Alice Mona Best, as the mother and John Best as the father. In keeping with the times, the birth was made legitimate.

  But there was no announcement of the birth in the Liverpool Echo.

  3 August 1962, according to Philip Norman’s Shout! The True Story of The Beatles: “August began, and still Pete Best knew n
othing of the contract with Parlophone. The Beatles, en route for The Grafton in West Derby Road, were all in Mona Best’s Oriental sitting room, waiting for Pete to come downstairs. He did so in high spirits, full of the Ford Capri car he had almost decided to buy. Mrs Best remembers that Paul, in particular, showed unease over the price Pete intended to pay for the car. “He went all mysterious. He told Pete, ‘If you take my advice, you won’t buy it. You’d be better off saving your money.’”

  In the early 1960s, teenage girls preferred their idols to be unencumbered. Managers would tell the stars to keep their girlfriends from the press and their marriages secret, if they couldn’t be persuaded from taking such a ridiculous step. Joe Brown recalls, “If it got out that a pop star was married, his career could be ruined. The idea was to be untouchable but always available. On a pedestal, but on the same level as the fans, if you know what I mean. My manager didn’t want anyone to know that I was getting married and he made me wear a black wig. The idea was to whip it off when I got to the altar, but I’d pencilled my eyebrows and I realised that I’d look very silly with a blond crew-cut and black eyebrows. I kept the wig on and Vicki started arguing with me at the altar. The press hounded me for months. They were sure that I was married but they couldn’t prove it. They made my life hell and they tried all sorts of tricks to find out. They’d ring up my mother and say they were the jewellers wanting to know about the alterations to the wedding ring. One night two reporters turned up at my house at half-past ten in the pouring rain, clutching a copy of our marriage certificate. My manager told me to make a statement at ten o’clock the next morning. My publicity agent rang round all the papers but only two of them turned up. The press were getting a bit sick of this nonsense by then. Fortunately, the Beatles killed everything like that.”

  But not at first. Brian Epstein told John and Cynthia that the Beatles’ popularity would be harmed if they were seen as a couple and, for its time, it was sensible advice. Cynthia says, “I was in a horribly vulnerable position. The fanatical Lennon followers did not take kindly to me. I was a threat to their fantasies and dreams. The most dangerous place for me was the ladies’ toilet. Sometimes I thought that I wouldn’t get out in one piece. My solution was to keep a very low profile and keep my mouth firmly shut. I was no match for all those girls.”

  Early in August 1962, Cynthia told John Lennon that she was pregnant. “It was such a shock to both of us that I was pregnant. It was anything but a celebration at the time as John had to tell Mimi and I had to tell my mum.” Even worse, they had to tell Eppy.

  In 1962, if you got a girl into trouble you married, and John immediately said that they should get married. The wedding was arranged for 23 August at the Registry Office in Mount Pleasant, the day after their TV appearance, and John would spend his wedding night playing at the Riverpark Ballroom in Chester. Start as you mean to go on.

  John was getting married, going to be a father and he had to write songs for the Beatles’ recording session. Writing about Pete Best in his autobiography, Brian Epstein said, “He was friendly with John; he was not with George and Paul.” If there was to be a spirited defence to retain Pete, John would be too preoccupied to give it.

  On Wednesday 15 August 1962, the Beatles played lunchtime and evening sessions at the Cavern. This marked Pete Best’s final appearances with the group – and indeed, the last time he would ever speak to any of them.

  Pete Best says, “I’d been with the Beatles for 2 years. We’d been through thick and thin together. There were times when the money from bookings wasn’t enough to keep things going. There was a strong fellowship about the group and I never thought that they wanted to get rid of me. On Wednesday night when we’d finished, Brian said he’d like to see me in his office the next morning. This was quite normal because, with the family phone, I fixed the bookings and he used to ask me about venues and prices.”

  Bob Wooler: “I learnt that Pete Best was going to be sacked on that night, not before. I could imagine it with someone who was constantly late or giving problems, but Pete Best was not awkward and he did not step out of line. I was most indignant and I said, ‘Why are you doing this?’ but I didn’t get an answer.”

  Pete went to bed a happy man. Eppy had a sleepless night.

  It was not a foregone conclusion that any drummer, if invited, would want to join the Beatles. Norman Kuhlke of the Swinging Blue Jeans: “A lot of drummers wouldn’t have wanted to join the Beatles. I was having such a good time in the Blue Jeans that I don’t think I would have wanted to change groups. The Beatles were just another Liverpool group at the time.”

  In the Anthology 1 video, Paul McCartney says, “We started to think that we needed the greatest drummer in Liverpool.” Was that automatically Ringo Starr?

  The Beatles were very impressed with Joe Brown’s drummer, Bobby Graham, formerly with Mike Berry and the Outlaws. “Brian Epstein invited us back to the Blue Angel after a show. He called me to one side and told me that he was having problems with Pete Best’s mum and he wanted him out of the Beatles. He asked me if I would take his place. Although I liked the Beatles, I turned him down because I didn’t want to come to Liverpool. Besides, I liked Joe Brown, who was having hit records. I met George Harrison about five years ago and he had no idea that Brian had asked me.”

  Strangely enough, Bobby’s path kept crossing with the Beatles. “George Martin used me for session work and I did get involved in one of the Beatles’ early sessions although I’ve no idea which one. When Ringo had his tonsils out, I was asked to take his place on tour for a few days, but I was getting so much session work that I couldn’t do it and I recommended Jimmy Nicol instead. I did play with the Beatles on one of their Pop Go The Beatles sessions from the Paris Theatre and that was because the BBC didn’t think Ringo was adaptable enough for what they wanted at that time.”

  From Gerry Marsden’s autobiography, I’ll Never Walk Alone: “Whatever they planned for the Beatles, Pete certainly didn’t figure in it, which was a tragedy of a kind. They asked my brother Fred to play with them, go to Hamburg with them, but he told them that he had decided to stay with me, the biggest mistake he’d made in his life!” A nice quote, but Fred Marsden tells me not to believe everything I read in books. “Also, I could never have had a Beatle hairstyle. They’d have looked stupid with William Hague on drums.”

  When Mike McCartney was interviewed by Libby Purves about a children’s book on Radio 4 in December 1992, he added that he had once been a drummer with the Quarry Men and that he would have replaced Pete Best in the Beatles, had he not broken his arm. Why did he feel after 30 years that he had to declare this? Did it really happen? To be fair, there was a set of drums in the McCartney household and both Paul and Mike had practiced on them. Also, Mike had played a snare drum on an early Quarry Men home recording of ‘One After 909’.

  Fred Marsden continues: “The only person in Liverpool who did drum solos in Liverpool was Johnny Hutch from the Big Three. He was a very good drummer and even in 1962 he was into heavy sort of rock ’n’ roll music rather than pop. Technically, he was the best in Liverpool – well, he was the only one who did solos so he must have been the best.”

  Johnny Hutchinson: “Bob Wooler said, ‘Well, Brian, I think John would suit the Beatles down to the ground.’ Brian said, ‘I do too. What do you think, John?’ I said, ‘I wouldn’t join the Beatles for a gold clock. There’s only one group as far as I’m concerned and that’s the Big Three.’ The Beatles couldn’t make a better sound than that and, anyway, Pete was a very good friend of mine and I couldn’t do the dirty on him like that, but why don’t you get Ringo? Ringo’s a bum – Ringo’ll join anybody for a few bob.” Ringo was playing at Butlin’s with Rory Storm, who had signed a contract to play there. Ringo just got up and left – ‘Bugger you, boy; I’m going to higher things.’ He had no scruples at all.”

  If there was any possibility of Johnny Hutch joining the Beatles, they were dispelled by the few gigs he’d play in the period
between Pete’s sacking and Ringo’s arrival, which will be coming up shortly. There was considerable friction between Hutch and Lennon, and quite clearly Hutch was not prepared to be subordinate to him.

  Bob Wooler: “The Beatles didn’t want a drummer who would be a force to be reckoned with and, hence, Johnny Hutch didn’t stand a chance. Trevor Morais (of Faron’s Flamingos) was also considered but he was a centre of attraction and they didn’t want all the showmanship. They wanted a very good drummer who would not intrude, and Ringo played that role very well indeed.”

  How it happens in fiction:

  Mike is the Stray Cats’ manager in Stardust (Fontana Books, 1974) by the Liverpool author, Ray Connolly: “Mike looked at him and hated him more than ever. The grovelling little bastard, he thought. But he smiled, ‘Johnny! Fancy a drink?’ he said, and with an arm round Johnny’s shoulders, he led him away to a sudden and merciless slaughter. He just couldn’t afford to let some little two-faced twat like Johnny interfere with his plans now. No way.”

  That isn’t far from real life. Mike Middles tells how the lead singer of the fledgling Durutti Column was sacked in From Joy Division to New Order – The Factory Story (Virgin, 1996): “That night, Tony Wilson visited the flat of singer Phil Rainford. To make matters worse, Rainford seemed unusually enthusiastic, painfully exclaiming in an increasingly excited tone about his plans for the band and how marvellous the recent rehearsals had been. As every excitable comment passed by, Wilson found himself sinking deeper and deeper into despair. He sat, quietly panicking, preparing to administer the chop while a Bruce Springsteen album filled the room. ‘At the end of side one,’ thought Wilson, ‘I’ll tell him then.’ Inevitably, side one cluttered to a halt and side two began to spin threateningly. Wilson decided to tell him at the end of side two, and so he did. Feeling profoundly wretched, with Rainford’s tone of disbelief ringing in his ears, he strode wretchedly away from the startled singer’s flat. Tony Wilson had tasted the darker side of band management.”