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Authors: Spencer Leigh
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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 BruceSpringsteen 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.”
And so to the Beatles…
When he awoke on the morning of Thursday 16 August, Pete Best put on his T-shirt and jeans and asked the Beatles’ roadie, Neil Aspinall, if he wanted to come into town with him.
They drove to Whitechapel and Pete went into NEMS while Neil waited outside. Pete went into Brian Epstein’s office, sat down and, as he
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 BruceSpringsteen 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.”
And so to the Beatles…
When he awoke on the morning of Thursday 16 August, Pete Best put on his T-shirt and jeans and asked the Beatles’ roadie, Neil Aspinall, if he wanted to come into town with him.
They drove to Whitechapel and Pete went into NEMS while Neil waited outside. Pete went into Brian Epstein’s office, sat down and, as he
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