Band by your man

Captain’s Blog… stardate 11-30-07… is this thing on? (Screeeeeech!) Tap, tap, testing, testing, one-two-three…

Uh, hello, this is Kevin, the Times Herald Newsdesk Whippersnapper. I am by no means the ‘captain’ of this hearty crew, but I am a legend in my own mind, the pilot of my own mental unicycle.

John Berry, Online Editor, observed that this publication does not have a musical blog.

Well, now it does.

There are a few subjects I know about. If you are looking for insights on the Celtics –Lakers rivalry of the 1980’s, you could do a lot worse. Star Trek / Star Wars? Specialty. Music theory, or the Disco Era? Bring it on.

While I may someday be tempted into discussing gun control, or Stop, Ask and Frisk, or any number of gooey topics I adore… let’s start this show at the only place it can start – the logical place – at the beginning – the Beatles.

John Lennon and Paul McCartney ended up in roughly the same boat – one costly divorce, with the custody of a small child at stake; one long-term marriage, with a woman they conspired to put in their band. They did this in inverse order – John divorced Cynthia in the late 60s, then shacked up with Yoko Ono; Paul married Linda in the late 60s, and subsequently married Heather Mills. Yoko was in John’s band, Cynthia not; Linda, in, Heather, out.

Intriguing… first, let’s talk about Paul. Why didn’t McCartney, perhaps the shrewdest – certainly the wealthiest – businessman in the history of entertainment, ink a prenupt before sashaying down the aisle with miss Heather Mills?

Simple – Paul was the definitive authority on nuptial bliss. He stayed with the same woman, Linda, for decades, and their union lasted till death did them part. The only occasion they were ever separated was when Paul did time in the Japanese stir. Otherwise, they were not separated for a single night.

They raised four kids together, normal, respectable, conventional kids. They indulged in common interests; they laughed often. Why would Paul do anything different this time? He was Joe In-The-Know.

No wonder Paul wholeheartedly sprinted down the aisle again. Paul and Linda were the great marriage success story of the rock era; they worked together, they loved together; they raised kids together; they never strayed. They were a completely durable couple.

Show me another.

And don’t say “John and Yoko,” because they were separated for over a year in the early 70s. Plus, John was married to someone else first. Pete Townshend and Karen; Tom Petty and Jane; Eric Clapton and Patti; every rock music tryst that seemed poised to go the distance derailed. No major rock star took one woman, stood before God, vowed to stand by her alone until death, and did it. With a lone exception: Paul and Linda.

Alas, the world has changed, but Paul has not. He is still, and ever shall be, a stiff-upper-lip Brit from the north of England. He is the same man who told former flame Jane Asher to “act [her] age” when her theatrical career compromised his nuptial intentions.

Recently, Paul attempted to apply his time-honored principles to a modern woman. Trouble might have been brewing from the first. But there was one major difference that cannot be underemphasized – Heather Mills did not play in Paul’s band.

Thusly, we come to an intriguing undercurrent of the Beatles’ saga.

Let’s take it from the top. If John Lennon liked you, he would play music with you. It is a telling pattern that informs this entire saga.

It started with Lennon’s mom, Julia, who taught him to play banjo. Next thing you know, Pete Shotton, John’s childhood friend, is recruited to scrape washboard for the Quarrymen, John’s first band; this, despite his pronounced musical ineptitude. John’s entire ‘gang’ – Nigel Whalley, Eric Griffiths, Colin Hanton – all of his childhood buddies were recruited into his band – a band that would evolve into the Beatles.

And as sure as the sun would rise tomorrow, Paul McCartney would become both a friend and a musical collaborator. Paul was a younger man, but he had musical know-how, a lot of credentials – knowledge of lyrics; capability of tuning a guitar. He was “in” – a collaborator-turned-friend, the ultimate harmonic convergence.

Soon came Stuart Sutcliffe, John’s art school friend. Though he never had played an instrument, did not know a modulation from a semi-quaver – you guessed it. When he won some money in an art contest, he bought a bass and was conscripted into service. The pattern held: John’s friend became his subordinate in his band.

Needless to say, George Harrison and Ringo Starr, the other two pillars of the Quintessential Quatro, were both John’s lifelong friends, and musical collaborators.

And, if you think John never played music with his son Julian, think again. Young Julian played the wobbly drum part on the song “Ya Ya,” on John’s 1974 album “Walls and Bridges.” John also taught Julian some chords on guitar in later years, passing on a bit of the ol’ Lennon legacy from hand to hand.

The pattern held with other notable figures in Lennon’s life. Producer Phil Spector, to whom Lennon took a particular personal shine, played piano on John’s song “Love.”

John’s drinking buddies during his wild days in exile from Yoko in the 1970’s? Jesse Ed Davis, Jim Keltner, Klaus Voorman – musical underlings, all.

Lennon’s personal assistant-turned-confidant Fred Seaman also played percussion on some of John’s final demo recordings, despite having no musical acumen whatsoever. Seaman, in fact, was delighted when a professional studio percussionist was asked to duplicate his improvised bongo pattern on the final recording of “Beautiful Boy.”

However, there are two telling exceptions to this Beatle-esque ‘friend = musician’ pattern. John never made music with his first wife, Cynthia, a marriage that splintered into bitter divorce.

Intriguingly… Paul McCartney never played music with his second wife, Heather Mills, a marriage that is one of the great disasters in modern history.

Is that what went wrong…?

Linda McCartney did not have a musical leg to stand on – neither did Yoko. But, somehow, these dubious musical mergings translated into long-surviving marriages.

While the musical contributions of Yoko and Linda are dubious at best, perhaps there is some truth to the old adage: The family that plays together, stays together.

The Beatle marriages – John’s and Paul’s – succeeded in direct proportion to the musical ambitions of their spouses.

Freud could make much of that.

Maybe Paul should invest in a tambourine for Heather. If she refuses to join his band, Paul may need it to panhandle for loose change.


Kevin