flower-power clothes. It was very revealing to see Jagger and Lennon together. They seemed wary of each other, careful and respectful, with very little contact.
I knew, from having discussed it previously with John, that John felt jealous of Jagger. Certainly not of his music, or his success, or his fame, but of the fact that Jagger always had a rebel image, right from the beginning, which John felt he should have had as well. I argued that it was the Beatles, breaking so many rules, that allowed the Stones to come along later and build on what the Beatles had done. John at that stage still resented the cleaning-up operation Brian had performed on them, ashamed in a way that he had gone along with it, which was why later, I suppose, he overcompensated by dishing out the dirt about himself, making himself worse, if anything, than he had been.
On the train, there was very little conversation between them all, though after they had been ushered into the Maharishi’s compartment, further along the train, they all laughed and jokedabout what he had said to each of them, but at the same time obviously taking it very seriously.
The trip had been meant to be secret, and was arranged at the last moment, but the news leaked out and at various stations along the line crowds of fans gathered. It was almost like Beatlemania days again. Fans rushed to the train when we stopped and shoved autograph books through the windows and doors; quite a killing for the fans, getting such a batch of heroes, all in the same spot at the same time. Most of them dutifully signed, except John, who soon said he was fed up. So now and again I signed his name in their little books, if they looked particularly disappointed. I do hope Sotheby’s have found a way of checking the real signatures from the false.
That evening, in Bangor, we all went into the town for something to eat. It was late at night, in a very small provincial town, and we could find only a Chinese restaurant open. When the bill finally came, I realized I had not enough money, nor had anyone else. The Beatles never carried money, just like the royal family, and this time they were without their normal aides and assistants who carried the purse for them.
The Chinese waiter was becoming very upset, thinking we were all going to walk out without paying, when George suddenly put his bare foot on the table. He had taken off his sandals and was examining the sole of the shoes. There was a slit at the front and from it he withdrew £20, more than enough to settle the bill. He had put the money there for such emergencies, months if not years previously, and forgotten about it until that evening.
The news of Brian’s death came through on the Sunday, after they had a long session with the Maharishi. They appeared at the time to be rather callous in their reaction, which hurt Brian’s family, but it was partly the result of being with the Maharishi, who told them that death meant very little. It was typical of their reaction to such things. Years before, Paul had once made a silly joke about his mother’s death, out of fearrather than cruelty. John had appeared to be uncaring after his own mother had been killed.
The death of Brian Epstein was a watershed, the end of an era, the final chapter of those Beatlemania years, although we did not realize at the time how near it was to the end of the Beatles as an active group. Everyone wondered, though, what the next era would bring. I remember George Martin telling me that he thought they would not manage in the future without some sort of organizer, some figure to lean on. They would always need some sort of help.
As for interviewing the Beatles themselves, I described in great detail in Part Three of the book (see Chapters 28–34 ) what exactly they were doing and thinking in 1967, so there is not much need to add to that. I knew at the time that the minute I wrote anything down it was out of date. They moved on so quickly, changing their
I knew, from having discussed it previously with John, that John felt jealous of Jagger. Certainly not of his music, or his success, or his fame, but of the fact that Jagger always had a rebel image, right from the beginning, which John felt he should have had as well. I argued that it was the Beatles, breaking so many rules, that allowed the Stones to come along later and build on what the Beatles had done. John at that stage still resented the cleaning-up operation Brian had performed on them, ashamed in a way that he had gone along with it, which was why later, I suppose, he overcompensated by dishing out the dirt about himself, making himself worse, if anything, than he had been.
On the train, there was very little conversation between them all, though after they had been ushered into the Maharishi’s compartment, further along the train, they all laughed and jokedabout what he had said to each of them, but at the same time obviously taking it very seriously.
The trip had been meant to be secret, and was arranged at the last moment, but the news leaked out and at various stations along the line crowds of fans gathered. It was almost like Beatlemania days again. Fans rushed to the train when we stopped and shoved autograph books through the windows and doors; quite a killing for the fans, getting such a batch of heroes, all in the same spot at the same time. Most of them dutifully signed, except John, who soon said he was fed up. So now and again I signed his name in their little books, if they looked particularly disappointed. I do hope Sotheby’s have found a way of checking the real signatures from the false.
That evening, in Bangor, we all went into the town for something to eat. It was late at night, in a very small provincial town, and we could find only a Chinese restaurant open. When the bill finally came, I realized I had not enough money, nor had anyone else. The Beatles never carried money, just like the royal family, and this time they were without their normal aides and assistants who carried the purse for them.
The Chinese waiter was becoming very upset, thinking we were all going to walk out without paying, when George suddenly put his bare foot on the table. He had taken off his sandals and was examining the sole of the shoes. There was a slit at the front and from it he withdrew £20, more than enough to settle the bill. He had put the money there for such emergencies, months if not years previously, and forgotten about it until that evening.
The news of Brian’s death came through on the Sunday, after they had a long session with the Maharishi. They appeared at the time to be rather callous in their reaction, which hurt Brian’s family, but it was partly the result of being with the Maharishi, who told them that death meant very little. It was typical of their reaction to such things. Years before, Paul had once made a silly joke about his mother’s death, out of fearrather than cruelty. John had appeared to be uncaring after his own mother had been killed.
The death of Brian Epstein was a watershed, the end of an era, the final chapter of those Beatlemania years, although we did not realize at the time how near it was to the end of the Beatles as an active group. Everyone wondered, though, what the next era would bring. I remember George Martin telling me that he thought they would not manage in the future without some sort of organizer, some figure to lean on. They would always need some sort of help.
As for interviewing the Beatles themselves, I described in great detail in Part Three of the book (see Chapters 28–34 ) what exactly they were doing and thinking in 1967, so there is not much need to add to that. I knew at the time that the minute I wrote anything down it was out of date. They moved on so quickly, changing their
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