March 17 – Saturday — Liverpool | Knotty Ash Village Hall | ‘St. Patrick’s Night Rock Gala’ | Sam Leach sets up a special ‘Battle of The Bands’ between The Beatles and Rory Storm and the Hurricanes | Later friends and family attend a private party to celebrate Sam’s engagement to Joan McEvoy | Brian Epstein and Bob Wooler among the guests.
RINGO STARR hit the snare with a crack. Rory Storm threw his arm out, pointed at the audience, held a finger up to heaven, and stepped into ‘Blue Suede Shoes’. He rolled his shoulders, thrust out two fingers, and Ringo cracked the snare a second time. On three, Rory shook his arm and snapped his head from side to side. On four, he swivelled his pelvis, stiffened his legs, and spun round. The cat now well and truly out of the bag, he trembled all over, slowly rolled his head, shook his curly blond locks, dipped and dropped, jumped and jived, spun round again, told everyone they could do whatever they wanted to. Then he suddenly stopped, snarled, curled his lip, looked mean, magnificent—real cool, man, cool—and growled that everyone better lay off Sam’s Hush Puppy suede shoes. He paused for the very briefest of moments—let the moment crackle in the air—then Rory Storm and The Hurricanes set about blowing the roof off.
Rory Storm and the Hurricanes
The full rocking force of Liverpool’s ‘Mr Showmanship’ swept up everything before it. This was ‘the Storm’ everyone loved—Rory leaping and writhing, his shocking canary-yellow suit a never-ending blur. The Hurricanes in matching sky-blue suits and ties, forever dipping and diving behind him. Rory whirling the microphone stand around his head. Rory trembling like he’d been electrocuted. Rory prancing. Rory dancing. Rory jumping. Rory strutting. Rory twisting. Rory twirling. Owning the stage, owning the night. Unstoppable. Unbeatable. Unsurpassable.
It was Battle of the Band – Liverpool-style
“Bloody hell, Sam, will you look at that,” shouted John Lennon. “He’s out to bloody bury us, he is.”
“Well, he always did in Hamburg…always does at ‘the Tower’,” George Harrison, piped in. “So, I can’t see as how our Rory would be any different, tonight, given even half a chance, like.”
“I bet the swine swipes all our best rock ‘n’ roll numbers, too,” moaned Paul. “We’ll just have to make up our song-list as we go. See what he leaves us. If he leaves us anything, that is.”
Sam Leach laughed. “Well, it’s a rockin’ good way to start off my engagement party, lads. Just you remember, all those punters out there are paying for all the food and booze you’ll be scoffing down, later.”
“Well, in that case, Sam,” sniffed John, narrowing his eyes. “We’ll just have to go blow all those Rory Storm clouds away, won’t we?”
Rory lit into ‘Be-Bop-A-Lula’.
“That’s my bloody song,” John exploded. “Gene Vincent’s and mine. I’ll do Rory, He knows that’s my favourite number.”
Summertime Blues
For the next hour, Rory Storm and The Hurricanes grabbed the best songs in the rock ‘n’ roll cupboard. He took Elvis’s Top Ten rockers and then stole Eddie Cochran’s very best songs, including Sam’s all-time favourite, ‘Summertime Blues’. Then he made off with Buddy Holly’s catchiest riffs, before reaching for Carl Perkins’ ‘Lend Me Your Comb’. He swiped ‘Cathy’s Clown’ and ‘Claudette’ from the Everly Brothers. Took ‘I Got A Woman’ from Ray Charles. Then turned up the gas even higher still with Jerry Lee Lewis’s ‘Great Balls of Fire’.
Everyone’s nerves and brains utterly rattled, he smiled his million-watt smile, pointed to each Hurricane, in turn, smiled at the crowd, combed his curly golden locks with his giant plastic comb for one last time. He did the splits, rebounded, stood to attention, bowed from the waist, swivelled his pelvis, spun round and around and was gone.
“Sweet Lord,” muttered George. “We have to follow that?”
“What with?” Paul sighed.
“Let’s bloody hit them with ‘Johnny B Goode’,” snarled John.
“Righto, Johnno,” shouted Paul. “I’ll blow their ear drums to smithereens with me Hofner bass.” He turned to the other Beatles. “Pete. You hit them with your ‘atomic’ beat. And George?”
“Yeah, Pauly?”
“Go ring that bloody bell, why don’t yer.”
The Beatles at the Cavern
John strode onto the stage and grabbed hold of the mike. “This is a number by Chuck Berry…a Liverpool-born school-teacher with bad teeth and no humour.” George hit straight into the opening riff and he and his fellow Beatles lit into ‘School Day’, as if possessed. And for the next hour-and-a-half The Beatles kept up a blistering pace, not letting up for an instant. They followed their opening number with even more of Chuck Berry’s best.
“Long Tall Sally”
Then ripped through Little Richard’s repertoire with Paul taking the lead on ‘Long Tall Sally’, ‘Tutti-Frutti’, and ‘Kansas City’. John kept things spinning with Larry William’s ‘Dizzy, Miss Lizzy’ and Carl Perkins’ ‘Honey Don’t’. George took a turn with Tommy Roe’s ‘Sheila’, Bobby Vee’s ‘Take Good Care of My Baby’, and The Coasters’ ‘Youngblood’.
You Really Got A Hold On Me
To give his band-mates’ voices a break, Pete opened up Carl Perkins’ ‘Matchbox’ and followed that with The Shirelles’ hit ‘Boys’. Paul went ‘Searchin’ for The Coasters again. John gave people another hit of Arthur Alexander’s ‘A Shot of Rhythm and Blues’, reintroduced them to ‘Anna’, before grabbing everyone by the throat with Smokey Robinson’s ‘You Really Got a Hold on Me’. Then he capped everything off with Barrett Strong’s ‘Money’. After which, the place exploded into one long roar of cheers, whistling, stamping, and thunderous applause.
Sam Leach
Sam Leach ran onto the stage, as wrung-out as if he’d been up there playing the music himself. He clapped, cheered, took hold of the microphone, and waved everyone to silence. “Blimey O’Riley! I’ve never seen or heard anything as spectacular as what happened here at tonight’s ‘Battle of the Bands’ and I doubt if any of us will ever see the likes of it again, however long we live.” Everyone clapped and cheered for their favourite band. Sam patted the air with his hands—waited for all the noise to die down. “So listen…what can I say? There can be no winners tonight other than all of you and me…and all of Liverpool…for being home to such fabulous entertainers as…Rory Storm and The Hurricanes! And The Beatles!”
Ray Charles
He turned, applauded both bands again, asked the audience to show their appreciation again, and then left the stage. The hall exploded into another riot of clapping, stamping, cheering, and whistling. After it showed no sign of abating, Sam ran back on, took up the microphone and held it between his hands as if in prayer. “What do you say, fellas? Ray Charles’ ‘What’d I Say?’ to bring the night to a proper close? Send everyone off home, drained but deliriously happy?”
Sam spun round and cocked his head and raised his eyebrows—in mute question—and the three hundred or so beat fans roared, cheered and stamped their feet in response. John Lennon and Rory Storm glanced at one another, nodded. The two drummers settled back behind their drum kits. Guitars got re-plugged into amplifiers. And the two bands came together as one. Then Rory and John and Paul took turns in stretching their final song’s call and response to its very limits. And for a good twenty minutes or more Knotty Ash Village Hall rocked on its very foundations and Sam Leach’s ‘St. Patrick’s Night Rock Gala’ rolled into local legend as the one night of rock ‘n’ roll no beat fan alive should ever have missed.
The Beatles knew it was one of the most important dates of their lives; they still thought they could clown around as if they were in The Cavern. According to George Harrison, they even “put on heavy, thicker-than-usual Liverpool accents to try and fool the Londoners. It was a bit of a defence mechanism.” (True Story of The Beatles)
John Lennon would later say that “somehow this helped get our spirits up again.” Still, despite their best efforts, they were unable to recreate the energy and atmosphere of their Liverpool and Hamburg shows. Johnrecalled: “Remember that we had at the back of our minds that Brian Eppie had spent a lot of time already trying to get record companies interested in us, but without having any luck. I guess that was weighing on our minds.” (True Story of The Beatles)
As if all these pressures were not bad enough, tensions soon rose to the breaking point when Epstein’s sense of self-importance tripped him up once again. Dismissing normal studio protocol, he interrupted he proceedings and immediately got into an open altercation with John Lennon. Oops!
John Lennon and Brian Epstein – A Fair Fight?
The red mist descended over Lennon faster than a rainstorm. Pete Best: “…Brian began to voice some criticism either of John’s singing or his guitar playing. I’m not sure which. Lennon burst into one of his bouts of violent, uncontrollable temper, during which his face would alternate from white to red. ‘You’ve got nothing to do with the music!’ he raged. ‘You go back and count your money, you Jewish git!’” The sudden chill in the studio was far icier than the weather outside. “Brian looked like he had cracked down the middle. Mike Smith, the sound engineers and the rest of us all looked at each other in amazement.” (Beatle!)
Brian wisely walked away from the confrontation. This was likely the first time he experienced a very public tongue-lashing from the often cruel tongue of John Lennon. It wouldn’t be the last, and the fact that it happened at a crucial audition at Decca studios of all places shocked everyone watching. Not the best way to sell yourself.
Would You Have Signed The Beatles?
The final order of the songs performed at the session is not known, but by the end they had managed to record 15 numbers, all live, with little or no opportunity to correct mistakes. Time was up.
Now, decades later, we ask you to put yourself in Dick Rowe’s position. After all the feedback on the day’s events, having listened to the session tapes, and knowing the comparisons and options concerning Brian Poole and the Tremeloes, Rowe had to make a straightforward commercial business decision whether to sign The Beatles or not. There was no crystal ball where he could gaze into the future; nor did he have the luxury of looking back in hindsight.
With that in mind, and based on the known facts, what would you have decided? Would you have signed The Beatles?
Blame it on the Drummer – A Convenient Scapegoat?
Beatles drummer Pete Best
These Decca auditions have been cited over the years as proof of Pete Best’s poor drumming and one of the reasons why he had to go. “Worst of all was Pete’s drumming,” and “At Decca, Pete had the full kit at his disposal and did little with it.” (Tune In). But is there any basis in this assessment?
Examining Third Party Opinions: Is Criticism Valid as Evidence?
Writing for Ultimate Classic Rock, Dave Lifton also condemns Best’s drumming. “The tapes prove George Martin’s assertion that Pete Best was the wrong drummer for the group. For years, Best had said he was fired in favour of Ringo Starr because the band were jealous of his success with their female fans. But after one listen, it’s obvious that Best was a limited drummer with a poor sense of timekeeping.”
Savage Opinion
“I thought Pete Best was very average, and didn’t keep good time. You could pick up a better drummer in any pub in London,” recalled Decca session engineer Mike Savage in a 2007 interview. (TuneIn)
Very average and didn’t keep good time? A better drummer in any pub in London? These emotive words condemn Best as a drummer; Savage’s words are savage. In context, Mike Savage was the 20-year-old junior assistant to producer Mike Smith back in 1962. “If you’ve got a quarter of a group being very average, that isn’t good,” (Tune In) he continued. Granted, this is a fair comment.
However, an analysis of the songs will demonstrate that the whole audition was average at best. Applying the scholastic tests, theavage quote, the first by him was given 45 years after the original session, goes against the testimony by many ‘60s-era Liverpool musicians who describe Pete as a very good drummer. There is also no independent corroboration of these comments, and nobody else from Decca, including Mike Smith, commented on Pete’s drumming. We will examine Best’s drumming ability track by track to see if Savage’s assessment holds up.
Analysis by Drummers
For our analysis of the Decca session, we invited three drummers to listen to the audition songs, each for the first time ever. The analysts, which include a father-and-son team, are:
Mike Rice, drummer with ‘60s Merseybeat band The Senators who was an active drummer until recently, and saw both Pete and Ringo play with The Beatles.
Mike Rice (second from left) from ’60s group The Senators
Derek Hinton, 50, a guitarist and bassist in bands for over 30 years and an accomplished drummer as well.
Drummer Derek Hinton
Derek’s son Andrew Hinton, 19, an excellent drummer, bass guitarist and lead guitarist who is currently pursuing a music degree at Liverpool University.
Drummer Andrew Hinton, one of our experts
Each participant was played the song only once, and was then asked for his immediate feedback on Pete’s drumming as if they were at the session.
John launched into a rocking version of “Money (That’s What I Want)”, a 1960 hit for Barrett Strong on the Tamla label. Written by Tamla founder Berry Gordy and Janie Bradford, it became the first hit record for Gordy’s Motown label, whose roster included all the great American pop-soul artists The Beatles worshipped. John seems to be almost croaking, or trying too hard to sound like a rock ‘n’ roller, and overdoes the vocals. Though John’s voice is too raspy, Pete’s atom beat is strong and Paul’s solid bass-playing augments the strong drum rhythm.
This song was later recorded for EMI and issued on their second LP, With The Beatles.
Pete’s drumming?
Mike: “Couldn’t hear Pete enough because the balance isn’t too good between the instruments. Pete’s timing is good and he is playing the correct rhythm for the song, using his bass and floor tom well. Nothing wrong with his drumming.”
Derek and Andrew: “Very good use of the full kit. Very tight and a good tempo all the way through. Drumming is fast and at a good pace with good syncopation.”
“To Know Him Is to Love Him” was written by Phil Spector, inspired by words on his father’s tombstone, “To Know Him Was To Love Him”. It was first recorded by Spector’s group, the Teddy Bears, and it went to #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart in 1958. The Beatles’ version was not officially released until 1994, when it appeared on their Live at the BBC compilation album. The song is in 12/8 time. John’s lead vocal is good, though lacking in the quality we would expect, while the backing harmonies from Paul and George are perfect. Guitars, bass and drums all work together. This is possibly one of the best tracks of the day.
Never recorded by The Beatles with EMI, the song was performed for the BBC and a version was released on Live At The BBC.
Pete’s drumming?
Mike: “I would have added something slightly different, personally, when they go in to ‘Why can’t she see…….’, but that is still good, and the beat is good and regular, and he makes a good transition back into ‘To know, know, know her…’, so I’ve no real criticisms.”
Derek and Andrew: “The timing on the hi-hat is like a metronome, it is that good and regular. He is playing almost freestyle, playing to the song – not just sticking to a set rhythm. He emphasises the melody and song, and doesn’t have a set part to play which is very creative. Maybe needs a little variation with his use of the snare and the ride cymbal.”
One of the best songs in the day’s repertoire, “Take Good Care of My Baby” came from the famous songwriting team of Carole King and Gerry Goffin. Bobby Vee’s hit version was released in America July 1961 and by September, it had reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100. In The Beatles’ version, George’s vocal is superb, with John and Paul harmonising with him brilliantly; the group sounds tight.
Not recorded by The Beatles for EMI, the song was performed for the BBC and appeared on Live At The BBC.
Pete’s drumming?
Mike: “Clean and clear sound, Pete’s rhythm is the right one and nicely in time. Good performance.”
Derek and Andrew: “The drumming is very tight, and has a good, consistent tempo. He uses a simpler pattern and rhythm, appropriate for the song. He stops perfectly in time with the rest of the group; the whole group performs this song perfectly. The drumming is holding the group together, and leading from the back. He is very inventive, using a different rhythm for each song, whereas most drummers would just do the same for each song.”
There had to be a Buddy Holly composition included, and they chose “Crying, Waiting, Hoping” a song released in 1959 as the B-side to “Peggy Sue Got Married”. There are actually three versions of Holly’s song: the 1959 release, the 1964 reissue with different orchestration, and Holly’s original home recording.
The Beatles’ Decca version featured George Harrison on lead vocal whilst replicating studio guitarist Donald Arnone’s instrumental bridge note for note. Everything about the song is great. George’s vocal is once again the pick of the session, and the balance of the group’s rhythm is very good.
The number was never an official EMI release by The Beatles, until it appeared on Live At The BBC.
Pete’s drumming?
Mike: “Nice rhythm, good drum rolls at the right place, and variation in the chorus, too. A good performance and sounded great.”
Derek and Andrew: “Again, Pete’s drum rolls are excellent. More variety in his choice of rhythm, with good variation on the snare drum. He is playing a standard 4/4 time signature but with a samba variation. This is where he is listening to the group and playing the song well. It is inventive and precise, with perfect patterns. Stunning performance by Pete, and this is probably the best the whole group has sounded together. They all know what they are doing.”
“Three Cool Cats” was a 1958 song written by Leiber and Stoller. It was originally recorded by The Coasters and released as the B-side of their hit single, “Charlie Brown”. The Beatles performed this song several times during the infamous Get Back/ Let It Be sessions in January 1969.
Another fine vocal performance from George with supporting harmonies from John and Paul, whose interludes are characterized by very dodgy foreign accents. These odd dialects, though well-suited for a live Cavern show, spoil an otherwise impressive group performance with tight vocals, guitars and drums.
First released on Anthology 1, this is The Beatles’ only recording of a great song.
Pete’s drumming?
Mike: “He varied the beat at the right time – better variation – and kept a good tempo. No problem with his drumming there.”
Derek and Andrew: “Again, Pete adds his signature drum roll to perfection, and sounds really good. He uses great variety in the chorus with his use of the snare. Good variety in the lead guitar solo to back up what George is doing. Again, drumming is very tight with the group.”
And In The End? Conclusions from The Decca Audition
The Studio:
Steve Levine has been a successful record producer for many years, and was a good friend of George Martin. He has a unique insight into the recording environment and technology The Beatles would have used in 1962. For him, the whole process of stepping into a recording studio for the first time was a significant factor. Read Steve’s comments in the book.
The Drummer?
Did our expert drummers agree with Savage’s comments about Pete’s drumming being “very average, and didn’t keep good time. You could pick up a better drummer in any pub in London”?
“I don’t know who these people are who criticise Pete’s drumming because he was a great drummer,” said Mike Rice. “He was fantastic to see live with The Beatles and his sound drove the group forward.” (DB interview 2015)
As Derek observed: “Pete’s timekeeping was like a metronome, and at times, it came across as if it was the drummer who was the leader of the group, like a Buddy Rich. In fact, Pete’s drumming reminds me of ‘Wipeout’ by the Ventures, with that great use of the floor tom and that pounding rhythm that drives the song.” It’s noteworthy that both The Ventures’ and Safaris’ versions of “Wipeout” didn’t come out until 1963, a year later.
Andrew notes: “Considering Pete had no training, he is very creative and he was creating sounds and rhythms for the first time. He knows what he is doing, is confident in his ability, and isn’t simply copying the records or original version.”
Derek concluded that Pete “is doing something different on virtually every song, and almost playing like the “Prog Rock” drummers were doing in the 1970s.”
“We Wouldn’t Have Used Pete Best” Really?
Junior Engineer Mike Savage commented further on Pete’s drumming: “If Decca was going to sign The Beatles, we wouldn’t have used Pete Best on the records.” (Tune In)
Interestingly, the only comments we have from Savage pertain only to Pete’s drumming. But what did he think about John, Paul and George? Why do we not have those comments? Neither session producer Mike Smith nor Dick Rowe singled out Pete for particular criticism – the recordings reveal that, at various times, they were all culpable. However, as we will see in a later chapter on the use of session drummers, it wouldn’t have mattered how well Pete Best did that day, because you could virtually guarantee that Decca or Parlophone were going to use a session drummer. That was no insult to Pete, or later, to Ringo.
Mike Smith at Decca
When asked about the Decca audition in the February 2002 issue of The Beatles Monthly, Smith said: “Maybe I should have trusted my instincts and signed them on the strength of their stage show. In the studio they were not good and their personalities didn’t come across. Maybe they were in awe of the situation. Of course I kicked a lot of furniture in the year or two afterwards when The Beatles started to happen for George Martin over at EMI. I would like to have auditioned the group when they had a better range of songs to offer, but NOT after they fired Pete Best. In my humble opinion he was a better drummer than Ringo.”
Smith added that “the one that played the most bum notes was McCartney. I was very unimpressed with what was happening with the bassline.” But he also wanted to qualify that observation, reminding us that “we are talking about four young men in a very strange environment, probably a very overpowering environment.” (Best of the Beatles) This is a fair comment to make about four young men entering a professional recording studio for the first time. It should come as no surprise that they were all affected by nerves. It is only natural.
Decca Sign Pete Best
Mike Savage: “If Decca was going to sign The Beatles, we wouldn’t have used Pete Best on the records.” How ironic that, just over a year later, Decca signed the second-most popular group in Liverpool, Lee Curtis and the All-Stars, whose drummer was, of course, Pete Best. Did they use a session drummer? No. It is also clear from what Smith has said that he was happy with Pete Best, and so he would not support the comments by Savage.
Pete Best in New York, now with his own band
Decca released two singles, “Little Girl” and “Let’s Stomp” but, unfortunately, neither made the charts. In mid-1963, the rest of the band decided to split from Curtis to form The Original All-Stars. That group became The Pete Best Four, who were also signed by Decca and produced by none other than Mike Smith. And again, no session drummer was used. The Pete Best Four and Pete Best Combo released several singles and albums. But despite Pete’s profile and the songwriting talents of Wayne Bickerton and Tony Wadsworth, success eluded them.
As a former member of Pete’s group, Bickerton was asked about his drumming. “Pete was a good drummer,” Bickerton said. “All the stories of him not being able to play properly are grossly exaggerated. The problem he fought against was being an ex-Beatle, which worked against us. The talent was in the band, but it was secondary to the Beatle-obsessed media and public.” (Spencer Leigh Let’s Go Down To The Cavern)
In The End?
The Beatles failed the Decca audition as a group, with no single member to blame, be it Pete Best, John Lennon, Paul McCartney or George Harrison. This failed audition could have been the end of the road for The Beatles, not just for Pete.
Brian, however, was not prepared to give up just yet. He took the boys out for a meal and tried to cheer them up. “The boys performed like real troopers when I stressed that this was only the beginning, not the end,” Brian said. “I knew how disappointed and fed up they were.” He felt he had let his boys down, but it was a learning experience for them all.
Thankfully, Decca turned The Beatles down, which meant they got the chance to work with George Martin; a perfect partnership. That Parlophone audition went ok, even if it wasn’t a perfect performance.
One of the most contentious moments in Beatles history happened on 1st January 1962, when John, Paul, George and Pete were driven south by Neil Aspinall for their audition at Decca Records.
Groups With Guitars Are On The Way Out?
Were guitar groups really on the way out as Decca producer and executive Dick Rowe supposedly told Brian Epstein? Was that why they failed the Decca Audition? Mike Smith had raved about The Beatles when he visited the Cavern just a couple of weeks earlier, so why would Rowe not like their sound? “When Mike came back,” said Rowe, “I said, ‘Well, what are they like?’ I wasn’t excited, but I was very interested because there was a lot of underground talk about them. Mike said, ‘Oh, they’re great!’ I said, ‘Well, you better bring them down and give them an audition.” (The Beatles: Oral History)
Finding the Fourth Beatle
In Finding the Fourth Beatle, we decided to analyse the Decca audition in more detail than had been done before. There are so many subjective comments and biases that come through, that we felt we couldn’t just offer another author’s opinion on Pete Best, who seems to get a lot of blame. Was he responsible? Was he a crap drummer as some people think? So, we asked three drummers, of different generations, to listen to the Decca audition and give us their objective opinions on Pete’s drumming. It was very revealing!
The Tremeloes
Surely, if they were a three-part harmony, guitar-based group like Brian Poole and The Tremeloes. The sound was comparable, so was it simply a case of the two bands being too similar? On the surface, the answer is yes. However, when you dig a bit deeper, you can see why Dick Rowe didn’t sign The Beatles which, thankfully, meant that they were paired with George Martin and not Rowe.
So why has Dick Rowe been blamed for turning down The Beatles? Is the criticism justified? Was it simply a north-south divide problem? Was he biased against Liverpool artists? History shows that Rowe was responsible for the first no. 1 record by a Liverpool artist, even if it was “(How Much Is That) Doggie In The Window” by Lita Roza in March 1953. He also recorded “Halfway To Paradise” and “Jealousy”, two hits by Merseyside’s first rock ‘n’ roll star Billy Fury. The handsome singer-songwriter hailed from Liverpool, so wouldn’t that work in The Beatles’ favour?
So what was it? Did Dick Rowe make the decision, or did The Beatles make the decision for Dick Rowe? Put yourself in Rowe’s place; whom would you have signed? As you will see, it wasn’t a straight comparison between the two groups after all.
1st January 1962: Crying, Waiting, Hoping – The Story of The Audition
Let’s examine The Beatles’ Decca audition in more detail, song-by-song. Bear in mind that they performed these fifteen numbers in less than an hour, probably getting only one shot at each. Mike Smith has said that he expected them to reproduce the great performance he’d seen at the Cavern, and encouraged them to “play the whole spectrum of music” he’d heard.
Even though the songs were regularly performed in their act, they weren’t really representative of The Beatles’ sound. Brian was keen to demonstrate their wide range of talents, both individually and as a group, and to show their musical versatility. In hindsight, it was probably a mistake. But Brian didn’t impose the songs on them.
George and Paul
As George recalled: “In those days a lot of the rock ‘n’ roll songs were actually old tunes from the ‘40s, ‘50s or whenever, which people had rocked up. That was the thing to do if you didn’t have a tune; just rock up an oldie. Joe Brown had recorded a rock ‘n’ roll version of ‘The Sheik of Araby’. He was really popular on the Saturday TV show Six-Five Special and Oh Boy! I did the Joe Brown records, so I did ‘Sheik of Araby’. Paul sang ‘September in the Rain’. We each chose a number we wanted to do.” (Anthology)
Pete thought that, in hindsight, they shouldn’t have allowed Brian to have as much say in the songs they performed: “It was a strange dish to set before the recording kings, with the emphasis on standards which, I remember, was mainly at Brian’s insistence. Really, we were doing little that was different.” (Beatle! The Pete Best Story) John later said that the group “should have rocked like mad in there and shown what we’re like when we’re roused.” (The Beatles: The Biography, Spitz)
The Audition
Morning arrived all too soon – but not that early, as Brian Epstein noted: “At 11 am…we arrived at Decca in a thin bleak wind, with snow and ice afoot,” he said rather poetically, carefully omitting the detail. (Cellarful of Noise)
Pete recalled Brian’s wrath after he’d warned them about staying out past ten: “When we got to the Decca studios the next day, we were late. Seems to be our history, being late, and Brian of course, was there before us. He was absolutely livid. He tore a strip off us left, right and centre. John just basically turned round and said, ‘Brian, shut up. We’re here for the audition, right.’” (Beatles at The BBC 2012)
Use Our Own Amps?
For some unexplained reason, The Beatles had taken their own amplifiers, as if they were turning up for a live gig. That was the first problem. Their cheap amps may have been passable for performing in clubs, but the hum the amplifiers emitted in the recording studio was an issue. When the hum proved far too audible to the sound engineers, they had to be changed for Decca’s own studio amps. “They didn’t want our tackle,” said Neil. “We had to use theirs. We needn’t have dragged our amps all the way from Liverpool.” (The Beatles. Hunter Davies)
True! This clearly shows how ill-prepared and ill-informed they had been. Adding more headaches to their groggy condition, they also had to cope with a huge, open, icy-cold studio. Decca had been closed for the Christmas period and, consequently, there was little or no room heat.
The boys were accustomed to close interaction in their live performances, but the recording studio was quite another story. The unfamiliar layout meant they could not communicate in the usual way. To avoid sound bleeding into other microphones from the drums, Pete was situated behind a studio ‘baffle’, an isolation screen. This made direct eye contact with the others almost impossible for Pete as all four struggled to keep cue off each other.
Recording Separation
Don Dorsey, an engineer who has worked at Abbey Road, explained why this would be a problem: “A recording studio environment is quite different to a live environment. In a live hall, all band members are relatively close together and all their sound output mixes in the environment – the drummer hears everything. In a recording studio, it would be customary for the drummer to be separated from the rest of the band with a large wall-like sound baffle. The purpose of baffles is to keep sounds from one player intruding too much into the microphones of the others. As a result, to hear other band members well, headphones must be used and the sound would be nothing like a live appearance.” (Liddypool DB 2007)
The physical separation was new to The Beatles; the setup at the Hamburg recording sessions had been completely different. They also noticed for perhaps the first time the vast difference between playing to a control booth and performing in front of a live audience. As the top group in Liverpool and Hamburg, they had learnt to “mach shau” – to “work” the audience. This time around, the chance to recreate the magic of the Cavern, which Mike Smith had enjoyed so much, was impossible. On top of everything else, they had a classic case of audition nerves which affected their delivery of even the most familiar songs. No assessment of the Decca audition can be done without taking into consideration all these factors, both external and internal.
Seeing Red – Songs in the Key of Fraught Nerves and Temper Tantrums
Tensions had simmered from the moment The Beatles arrived, gathering even more momentum when the ever-punctual Brian became angered by the late arrival of the Decca staff. Culprit-in-chief was Mike Smith who, like the four lads, was also hung over from the night before. Brian took it personally. “Mike Smith was late and we were pretty annoyed about the delay. Not only because we were anxious to tape some songs but because we felt we were being treated as people who didn’t matter.” (Cellarful of Noise) Here, Epstein reveals his inner insecurity by letting slip his overblown sense of grievance about being treated as someone of importance.
In reality, The Beatles were no doubt relieved that they weren’t the only ones to arrive late, or the only ones to rattle Epstein’s code of behaviour. Dick Rowe avoided the flack this time. The man responsible for the final decision wasn’t at the session. That was left to Smith, who would report the feedback to Rowe later. In the meantime, with everyone finally in place, studio equipment was set up, levels were taken by the engineers in the control booth, and they were off. The scary red light came on, and in the silence and isolation of the Decca studio, the audition began.
Red Light Area
Although the use of the red light was customary to let everyone know that they were ready to record, it was a distraction. “They were pretty frightened,” said Neil. “Paul couldn’t sing one song. He was too nervous and his voice started cracking up. They were all worried about the red light. I asked if it could be put off, but we were told people might come in if it was off. ‘You what?’ we said. We didn’t know what all that meant.” (The Beatles. Hunter Davies) To add to the confusion, the group knew very little about all the microphones, booms and controls. The boys were truly in uncharted territory.
December 31 – Sunday — New Year’s Eve. An uncomfortable 10-hour road journey from Liverpool to London—the four Beatles sitting hunched alongside their guitars, drums, and amplifiers in the back of Neil Aspinall’s unheated van—the journey made all the worse by bitter cold and falling snow | As ever—Brian Epstein travels down to London by train.
“OH, DIRTY MAGGIEMAE, they have taken her away and she won’t walk down snowy Lime Street anymore. Oh, the judge he…”
“Shurrup, John,” yelled Neil Aspinall. “I’m trying to concentrate up front, here. It’s like trying to see through a bloody blizzard, it is.”
“That’s because it is a blizzard, Neil,” yelled George Harrison. “It’s bloody f-f-freezin’ back here, it is. Isn’t there any more heat?”
“Just cuddle up and shurrup, will you. I’m doing me best.”
“Oh, driver Nelly Mae, he has lost his bleedin’ way and he won’t get down to London, New Year’s Day…”
“Bloody shurrup, will yer, John. Or you drive,” Neil shouted.
“Is that with or without his glasses on?” asked Paul.
“Where the fook we going to fellas?” yelled John.
“To London, Johnny, for our audition with Decca.”
“Whose turn is it to lie on top?”
“Mine, you bugger. Shove over.”
“I’ll be glad when I’ve had enough of this.”
“Me and all. It’s all right for some, though, isn’t it? ‘Eppy’ went by train. Probably had his breakfast and dinner on it, too, lucky swine.”
“Want another one of me cheese butties, Johnny?”
“No, ta, George. It was good of yer mum to make them up for us. I’d have starved otherwise. Got a spare ciggy, have yer?”
“How long, now, Neil?” called out Pete.
“In all this snow, I don’t bloody know, but we’re just coming up to a place called Watford. So, an hour or two, maybe.”
“Ten bloody hours of freezin’ me bloody balls off. We better get a warm reception tomorrow or I’ll start a bloody revolution, I will.”
“I think I’d just settle for a hot of cup of tea, at the moment.”
“Strike us a match will yer, I want to warm me hands up before I have another look at the Christmas card ‘Eppy’ sent me.”
A Happy New Year?
John pulled a crumpled envelope out of his coat pocket and eased out the card. “There’s a bloody snow scene on this, as well. He must’ve known.” He read the card out aloud in a posh voice, not unlike Brian Epstein’s. “ ‘John’…hand-written in ink, mind you…‘With all Good Wishes for Christmas and the New Year’. Then, in brackets, ‘Especially January 1st. Brian Epstein, 197 Queens Drive, Liverpool 15’.” He paused. “It’s lovely, just like a poem by a man named Lear.”
“We all got one,” drawled George. “Mine’s still on the mantelpiece, at home.”
“Ah,” said John, “but I bet you didn’t get any kisses on yours.”
Discover more in Tony Broadbent’s excellent book, The One After 9:09
The One After 9:09
A DISAFFECTED LIVERPOOL TEENAGER BECOMES INVOLVED WITH THE BEATLES WHEN HE’S HIRED TO HELP PREVENT THE MURDER OF THE GROUP’S MANAGER, BRIAN EPSTEIN.
After having seen The Beatles at The Cavern, Brian Epstein had decided to become The Beatles’ manager. However, he had to convince them first. He summoned them to his office at NEMS and he was about to meet the group, but it wouldn’t go smoothly. Tony Broadbent, in an excerpt from his book, The One After 9:09, looks at this historic meeting.
The Beatles were coming to see him. Brian Epstein adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time and tried to stay calm. Over the last four weeks he’d seen ‘the boys’ perform many times at the Cavern. Had made a point of chatting to them on each and every occasion. Today was to be the first sit-down meeting at his office. He tried to work, but found himself fidgeting with excitement. So he went downstairs, into the store, aimlessly straightened a few things, then stood and looked out at a deserted Whitechapel.
There was little foot traffic, but that was quite normal for an overcast Sunday afternoon. He did notice, though, that what passers-by there were stopped to admire the store’s window-display, which was all very gratifying and a small thing, perhaps, but his own. Brian was shopkeeper enough to hope the interest shown would translate into Christmas sales. He consulted his wristwatch, winced, cleared his throat, shot his cuffs, blinked, and adjusted his tie again.
He’d toyed with the idea of wearing an open-necked shirt, silk cravat, and tweed sports-coat. All perfectly acceptable weekend wear. But as this could well be the beginning of a formal relationship with the group, he’d opted for workday business attire. It always paid to make the right impression. He looked at his watch again. They were now very late. He began to colour at the thought they might not come, at all, but as the flat grey December light slowly began to fade and the store darkened around him, he could do nothing but wait—and wait.
“Hey ‘oop? Is anyone in there? Mister Epstein, sir? It’s us.”
The Fab Three?
The banging on the store’s front door awoke him from his reverie and he quickly went to unlock it. There were only three Beatles standing there. He tried not to look too surprised.
“Hello. Thank you for coming. Let’s go up to my office, shall we? I see Paul isn’t with you. He’s not ill or anything, is he?”
“No, he’ll be along in a minute, Mr Epstein, sir,” replied John Lennon. “He probably just forgot to wind his watch.” The other two Beatles nodded in agreement.
Where is Paul?
He nodded, and led the way upstairs, but even after half-an-hour of strained conversation there was still no sign of Paul McCartney. He tried to still his growing frustration and the creeping sense of dread his dream was already stillborn. Almost at his wit’s end, he turned to the Beatle sitting nearest the door. “George, I wonder if you’d give Paul a ring…find out why he’s so late. I’d hate to think it was something serious. You can use the phone in the outer office.” The youngest Beatle raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, nodded, and left the room.
He smiled a thin-lipped smile at John Lennon and Pete Best, then turned and looked out of the window at the darkening Liverpool night. John pulled a face and retreated behind a handy copy of Mersey Beat. Pete did the same. And after more moments of pained silence, broken only by the murmuring from the outer office and the rustle of John’s newspaper, George came back into the room. He gently closed the door behind him, turned, and said, very calmly, “Paul’s just got up from having a nap. And he says he’s now going to have a bath.”
Very, Very Late!
Brian Epstein was incredulous. “But this…this is disgraceful behaviour. It means he’s going to be very, very late arriving.”
George nodded. “He’ll be very clean, though, won’t he?” he said, eyes twinkling, a slow smile twisting into a lopsided toothy grin. John sniggered behind the now shaking pages of Mersey Beat. Pete turned away; bit his lip. Brian Epstein blinked and blinked and blinked and suddenly his irritation completely dissolved and he started to laugh, not realising he’d just taken his first real step into the strange new world of Beatles.
When Paul finally arrived, more than an hour later, Brian Epstein was already manager enough to realise a change of scenery was called for and he suggested they all decamp to a local milk bar. Once he’d paid for everyone’s coffee and biscuits, there was little time left to beat about the bush. “Look, I don’t really know too much about managing a group, such as yours, but with all the contacts I have with the major record companies, in London, I feel certain I can help you and be of real assistance in your future endeavours. And, if you were prepared to go along with me and give me a chance, I feel sure we can do something really special together.”
London
The four Beatles listened intently to what Brian Epstein had to say. They appreciated his candour regarding his experience or, rather, the lack of it. They were already very wary of people who tooted their own horns too much. What really got to them was the magic word ‘London’. That’s where the real pot of gold was to be found—a recording contract with a major record label. It was, also, the very first time anyone had ever seriously asked about managing them. They’d be the first to admit they needed proper guidance if they were ever to achieve any real success. Still, they didn’t want to be rushed into anything, by anybody, however honest and charming they might seem.
When Brian Epstein had finished, John glanced at Paul, George and Pete, then back at their would-be manager. “Well, that’s all very nice, Mr Epstein, sir. We’ve all enjoyed the coffee and bikkies, and we definitely appreciate your interest in us. But you’ve given us a lot to chew over for one night. Plus, we’ve got to go play the Casbah Club, over in West Derby, before bedtime. So if it’s alright with you, like, we’ll just sleep on it.”
“Of course, of course. I mean, I wasn’t suggesting anything be resolved tonight.” He stood up, his hands open, his heart on his sleeve. “Thank you for hearing me out. And in closing, may I say once again how very special I think you all are, as individuals, and as a group.”
We’ll Think About it
Paul nodded, smiled, and held out his hand. “Thank you, for your interest, Mr Epstein. We’ll definitely think about it.”
He grasped the opportunity. “Then perhaps we could all meet later in the week to discuss any further questions you might have?”
Paul glanced at John, who nodded back.
“Yeah, okay then, Mr Epstein. Later this week, it is.”
“Would Wednesday afternoon be too soon? Only it’s half-day, early closing at the store, and you’re booked to play the Cavern that evening, so you could come over before that, couldn’t you?”
He knew their schedule. That was flattering. It said a lot.
“We could,” George drawled, “once we’ve all taken a bath, like.”
WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO SEE THE BEATLES AT THE CAVERN?
“I couldn’t get enough of the Cavern,” says Cavernite and author Debbie Greenberg, who saw The Beatles at The Cavern for every performance. “I would go there for every lunchtime session from Tuesday to Friday. There were two sessions, from 12 to 1pm and 1.15pm to 2.15pm. The later one was always the best – and then I would go back again at night for more.
Debbie Greenberg with Paul McCartney
“We were greedy for our fix of non-stop beat music. The club didn’t look like much from the outside. After dodging the fruit lorries delivering to the Fruit Exchange opposite and the lunchtime shoppers, we queued to get in through a small door in the wall of a towering brick warehouse at 10 Mathew Street.
DOWN INTO THE CAVERN
“Once we descended a steep flight of well-worn stone steps to a small landing, where a few more steps led to a man seated at a small wooden table taking the entrance fees. I paid a shilling to become a member of the Cavern Club entitling me to an admission discount at each visit – which in my case was most days. The heat and noise would send your senses reeling as you stepped through those cellar arches. It was enthralling and unbearably hot.
“The Cavern’s identity began to change at the start of the new decade. Rock ‘n’ roll slowly replaced jazz and the Cavern became the heart that have Mersey its beat.
THE BEATLES DEBUT
“We watched the Beatles debut at the Cavern at the lunchtime session on 9th February 1961. We were blown away. The Beatles were different, their music was incredible, their appearance raunchy, their energy infectious. They just oozed excitement.
OFF TO HAMBURG
The Beatles in Hamburg
“Six week later on 23rd of March, after a lunchtime session at the Cavern, they jumped on a train at Liverpool’s Lime Street Station on their way to Hamburg for the second time, having previously played there in 1960. This time they sped off out of our lives for four months. We missed them but still went down to the Cavern to watch other groups, like Gerry and the Pacemakers, the Swinging Blue Genes, the Remo Four, the Big Three, Kingsize Taylor and the Dominoes and many more. They were all fabulous groups but they weren’t the Beatles.
BACK HOME AGAIN
“News soon spread around Liverpool that the Beatles were back from Hamburg and were to be guests of the Swinging Blue Genes at the Cavern on Friday 14th July 1961 for their welcome home appearance.
“Everybody wanted to see them. They were already by far the best group in Liverpool. Everything about them was exciting and intoxicating. They seemed to be infused with even more vigour and passion than before. The transformation was unbelievable, with their gyrating hips, humourous banter on stage and sexy outfits – clad in tight black leather with black Cuban heeled boots.”
The Beatles at the Cavern
“Their repertoire was now wide-ranging, making them stand out from other bands. Their sound was unique and addictive, their energy palpable. Liverpool had never seen or heard anything quite like them. Sue and I made sure we were at the Cavern for every one of their performances after that. They appeared every Wednesday night and every Monday, Wednesday and Friday lunchtime.
“The Hamburg connection proved the ultimate testing ground for many Liverpool groups. On some nights, groups would be expected to play at the Top Ten Club or Kaiserkeller or later on the Star Club for up to seven hours with only s ten-minute break every hour.
“Those sessions transformed Liverpool groups into totally professional outfits. None more so that the Beatles. It turned them from talented amateurs into the band of bands, as Klaus Voormann described them. The Cavern was soon packed every time they played. Bob Wooler booked them and they received £5 for their debut (£1 each). At that time, Stuart Sutcliffe was playing bass guitar, although not very well, and he would play with his back to the audience so no one could see how he was playing.”
This first-hand account of Debbie’s teen years frequenting and eventually helping to run the original Cavern Club is the authentic inside story of the Beatles launch pad, full of triumphs and failures – and surprise celebrity encounters.
£17.25Original price was: £17.25.£13.50Current price is: £13.50.
