When They Were Boys (9 page)

Key to that style is something that goes beyond the music—a stage presence that would be emulated by the three Beatles front men (Ringo being in the back). Donegan held his guitar close and high, and nearly swallowed the
microphone when he sang. Look at Lonnie and you see the influence on John—his guitar pulled up high against his chest, his neck held high, his mouth so close to the microphone's metal. Even in the beginning, with the Quarrymen, John Lennon was Lonnie Donegan. Lonnie's charisma when performing was loved by all genders, and he knew it. He had the reputation of being a “bit of a lad,” an English expression for a ladies' man, with very serious talents in the arena of social interaction. His stage presence led the way to an intense social life, several marriages, two cases of open heart surgery, and a career that had serious ups and downs.

More than any of his personal “ups” was his impact in the fifties on the young “wannabes” in Britain.

“When the boys walked through the streets of Liverpool, or for that matter, any city, they envisioned themselves as Lonnie—his hair, his walk, his skiffle sound, the cadence,” remembers Alan White, longtime drummer for the band Yes, who also joined John Lennon and the Plastic Ono Band on various recordings, including the classic song “Imagine.”

“I grew up to all the British rockers. They grew up to Donegan. He may have had the most influence on the so-called British Invasion period. . . . His impact was mostly in the fifties, but it was mostly felt by some of the young stars of the sixties,” White says.

Ironically, Donegan's star faded as the Beatles' star emerged, partly because of his failure to embrace the rock 'n' roll wave. So, the man who so completely inspired them became a victim of his own inspirational success, and of theirs.

Eventually the Beatles and other fervent admirers paid him back. In the late seventies, Paul suggested to Donegan that he reprise some of his skiffle music hits. An album,
Puttin' on the Style
, was released early in 1978. The list of musicians backing him up included Ringo Starr, Elton John, Leo Sayer, Brian May of Queen, and Lonnie's regular band. Ringo made appearances on the tracks “Have a Drink On Me” and “Ham 'n' Eggs.”

Lonnie Donegan spent twenty-four more years writing songs, trying to revive his career and his health. He was keenly aware of his effect on the British groups, and especially the Beatles, whom he admired so much. He received a written tribute from George in 1997, in a foreword to the book
Skiffle
by Charles McDevitt. George wrote, “Of course, Lonnie Donegan was the reason so many of us loved skiffle.”

At the millennium, Donegan was honored by the queen. Two years later, after another heart attack, he died in the middle of a national tour. Ironically, his death came when he was en route to a memorial concert honoring George Harrison.

John Lennon once told me, “Yeah, Chuck Berry, the Everlys, Little Richard—they were all important to us. But no one, not one single person, was more important than Lonnie Donegan.”

“
We did everything we could to get our hands on American music—anything. For most of us [in Merseyside] it was as important as drinking and eating
.”

—J
OHN
L
ENNON

America had its baby boomers, born after World War II. Britain's war started earlier, and so did its baby boom. It began in 1938—the extraordinary birth explosion known as the “bulge.” The boys were all part of that people explosion. Like millions of other young people in Britain, they joined in a mass coming-of-age, little knowing that they would help lead it.

On the cusp of international fame, the boys, part of the “bulge” generation, were still hungry to listen and learn, and their role as “students” of the art of music provides an insight into the group's early power dynamics.

Throughout 1962 and 1963, the Beatles were hooked on music—totally addicted, captivated—and they couldn't get enough of the stuff. In fact, finding the right product was paramount. And there were two ways to get the music. Radio was the key, though it was scarcely available. But there were other ways to get the stuff.

And the “stuff” they wanted was mainly American music. Some records, by established stars, were available in stores. Brian Epstein sold many of those two-sided 45-rpm records in the record store his family owned. But the songs of less established stars, many who would set musical standards for the future, were hard to get. Or even hear.

There is no way to underestimate the impact that American pop music had on the 1962 and 1963 Beatles.

Joe Flannery, lifelong friend to Brian Epstein and early manager of the Star Club in Hamburg, says, “They spent most of their free time—mind you, there was not a lot of that—listening to 45s. They listened and listened, and exchanged records. John and George would listen together, Ringo by himself; he favored country. Paul listened to everything.”

Bill Harry, a member of the “bulge” generation, describes a social and cultural vacuum, especially on the radio:

T
HE FIFTIES WERE THE YEARS OF A BULGE OF TEENAGERS IN
L
IVERPOOL
. T
HERE WERE MORE TEENS AT THAT TIME THAN ANY TIME BEFORE AND AFTER
. I
ACTUALLY THINK THAT IS WHEN THE TERM “TEENAGER” WAS INVENTED—IN THE FIFTIES
. S
UDDENLY WE WANTED OUR OWN THINGS
. W
E HAD BEEN DOMINATED IN THE MEDIA BY THE GENERATION OF PEOPLE OLDER THAN US
. B
RITISH RADIO, OR THE
BBC,
WAS THE FAMILY FAVORITE, THE WORKER'S PLAYTIME
. N
OTHING TO DO WITH ROCK 'N' ROLL OR THE MUSIC TEENAGERS WANTED
.

Future promotion executive and Beatles' buddy Tony Bramwell remembers the swap meet that was going on every week, and the hunger for the music:

I
HAVE TWO OLDER BROTHERS, AND
G
EORGE WOULD BRING RECORDS AND WE WOULD SWAP RECORDS
. S
AME WITH
P
AUL; HE WOULD BRING HIS RECORDS
. T
HEY WOULD POP INTO MY HOUSE AND BRING RECORDS THAT THEY GOT IN THE PAST FEW WEEKS LIKE THE
E
VERLY
B
ROTHERS AND
C
ARL
P
ERKINS AND STUFF
. A
ND
I
HAD
B
UDDY
H
OLLY AND
C
HUCK
B
ERRY
. W
E WOULD SHARE OR SWAP OUR RECORDS
. W
E USED TO SAVE OUR POCKET MONEY AND BUY RECORDS
. I
F THERE WAS ONE WE REALLY LOVED, IT WOULD BE STUCK ON THE REPEAT CONTROL ON THE RECORD PLAYER
.

Bramwell and the boys, who were a few years older than him, would crawl under the covers in their bedrooms and take in Radio Luxembourg. He recalls,

E
NGLISH RADIO WAS PRETTY CRAPPY
. T
HEY DIDN'T HAVE POP MUSIC PROGRAMS
[
ON
]
THE
BBC. W
E USED TO LISTEN TO
R
ADIO
L
UXEMBOURG
FROM THE
D
UCHY OF
L
UXEMBOURG
. T
HEY WOULD HAVE THREE-, FOUR-HOUR MUSIC PROGRAMS SPONSORED BY RECORD COMPANIES
. D
ECCA
. C
APITOL
. EMI
WOULD HAVE AN HOUR
. M
ERCURY WOULD HAVE AN HOUR
. M
AYBE EACH A HALF AN HOUR—BUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT
. W
E WOULD BE LISTENING AT NIGHT IN YOUR BEDROOM TO CRACKLY PRE-TRANSISTOR RADIOS
. T
HEY DIDN'T HAVE TRANSISTOR RADIOS YET—CAT'S-WHISKER RADIOS
. I
T WAS LIKE LISTENING TO AN UNDERGROUND STATION
. I
T WAS FUN
.

From 1957 on, the kids of the so-called bulge were hungry for the “new” music that was being played in the States. But that is not all.
Mersey Beat
founder Bill Harry says it was a real cultural revolution. In many ways, he says, it was quite anti-establishment:

W
E HAD NO DECENT ROCK 'N' ROLL ON THE RADIO
. I
T WAS CONTROLLED
. T
HE ONLY RADIO WAS THE
BBC. W
E
HAD TO HAVE
R
ADIO
L
UXEMBOURG BEAMED OVER IN ORDER TO GET ANY DECENT ROCK 'N' ROLL ON THE RADIO
. S
UDDENLY TEENAGERS FOR THE FIRST TIME WANTED THEIR OWN CLOTHING, THEIR OWN IDENTITY
. B
UT WE COULDN'T HAVE IT BECAUSE THE MEDIA WAS ON A DIFFERENT SORT OF LEVEL
. E
VERYTHING WAS CONTROLLED BY MOGULS, THE BUSINESS PEOPLE
. C
LOTHING—EVERYTHING—WAS CONTROLLED
. M
ANIPULATING TEENAGERS
. A
ND THAT WAS AN EXAMPLE OF WHAT IT WAS LIKE
. W
E WANTED OUR OWN VOICE—WE HAD TO CREATE OUR OWN DESTINY, OUR OWN VOICE
.

The boys were constantly searching for their voice. John, Paul, and George studied songs and discussed styles until their throats were dry from talking, or until their eyelids closed. Although they were enamored by the big names of music, they were also impressed by daring artists who were willing to break through.

One thing that all four Beatles were serious about was rolling out their reel-to-reel tape recorder and listening to any recordings they could find. I can say, from watching their in-flight, hotel, and pre-concert routines, that Ringo and George were as serious as John and Paul about learning all they could about other people's music. There were two amazing moments on the
Beatles' North American tours, aside from the Elvis Presley meeting: the brief but exciting meeting in a trailer at Tulane Stadium in New Orleans with Fats Domino, and the backstage meeting with Johnny Cash at the Cow Palace in San Francisco.

These meetings were very revealing. Although the artists they met in America were thrilled to meet
them
, the boys were more like fans than contemporaries. Whether it was Joan Baez, Elvis, or the young Bob Dylan, the Beatles seemed thrilled, and in awe. America was always a marker for music excellence to the Fabs, unaware that, in those early days, they were becoming the markers of the musical future.

Monitoring the rest of the world's music, especially the American stars and one-hit wonders, took second place to priority number one: perfecting their sound on stage. Having covered sixty-three Beatles concerts in 1964, 1965, and 1966, I can say that their relentless pursuit of perfection made them the tightest and most nearly perfect performing band in history. They mirrored their early stirrings. Listening to the music,
carefully
listening to the music, John and Paul, with a heavy assist from George and Pete, were determined as early as 1960 to find the best music there was, put their own touches to it, and never settle for a bad night. They did have plenty of bad nights, but after a certain record retailer named Brian Epstein showed up, most of the bad habits, like eating on stage, vanished.

It all started with their obsession with devouring American music. Getting the music was not easy. But they had help.

Their record supplier during the early sixties was a young guy named Ron Ellis, who was and still remains a renaissance man. For years he has offered a uniquely important insight into the later influences on the boys. In his nearly fifty years of work, Ellis has been a group manager, promoter, singer, author, publisher, broadcaster, researcher, concert deejay, and one of the “go-to” guys when you are seeking the truth on Merseyside.

For four years, night and day, he researched the Beatles and John Lennon for controversial author Albert Goldman. Goldman's book,
The Lives of John Lennon
, was despised by Yoko Ono and members of the Lennon family, almost universally. About one thing, almost every Beatles expert agrees: Ron
Ellis's recollections of his eyewitness accounts of the Beatles' early performances, and their musical influences, is second to none. The book that he worked on for Goldman is not the first controversial book on the Beatles. Ray Coleman's book,
Lennon: The Definitive Biography
, is beautifully written, but the author, for some reason, glosses over John's eighteen-month relationship with May Pang in 1973 and 1974. Even the man considered to be the gold standard of Beatles biographers, Philip Norman, reserves just two sentences in his Beatles biography,
Shout
, to the Lennon-Pang relationship. Ellis will not reveal his opinion of Goldman's work, but he guarantees that the research was impeccable. In the cutthroat world of Beatles history in Merseyside, where second-guessing and rewriting history is an art form, no one will challenge Ellis's work.

Back in 1963, Ellis was a shrewd and enterprising young man who had the fix in with a pen pal from America, Ronnie Kellerman. Kellerman would ship the albums, or records, to Ellis, who would deliver them to two successful British groups: Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas, and the Searchers. Eventually Ellis reached out to the Beatles, and for good reason; he knew they were getting to the point where they could afford the albums.

As always, it was the great leader of the group, the most avid reader and listener, who wanted the most.

Ellis had a tidy little business going. And he tells me that John was his best customer. John's shopping list provides an insight into the great songwriting learning curve that John was always willing to tackle. Ellis remembers: