My name is Denise, I'm 19 ,I'm from argentina and I like The Beatles, yep that's all.
people drinking mate
John: Before we sort of “made it”, as they say, money was partly the goal, but it still wasn’t, “Let’s get some money.” But we sort of got… Suddenly had money, and then it wasn’t all that good.
George: By having the money we found that money wasn’t the answer because we had lots of material things that people, sort of, spend their whole life to try and get. And we managed to get them at quite an early age. And it was good really, because we learn that that wasn’t it. We still lacked something. And that “something” is the thing that religion is trying to give to people.
I remember the day he called to ask for help on “Taxman,” one of his bigger songs. I threw in a few one-liners to help the song along, because that’s what he asked for. He came to me because he couldn’t go to Paul, because Paul wouldn’t have helped him at that period. I didn’t want to do it. I thought, Oh, no, don’t tell me I have to work on George’s stuff. It’s enough doing my own and Paul’s. But because I loved him and I didn’t want to hurt him when he called me that afternoon and said, “Will you help me with this song?” I just sort of bit my tongue and said OK.
— John Lennon (Playboy Magazine, 1980)
The Beatles arrive for Brian Epstein memorial service on October 17, 1967 in London
Towards the end of the 70s, a group of us went off to Hong Kong on a holiday and John was in, sort of, house-husband mode and wanted to show Sean the world. And during one of our expeditions on the back streets a kid comes running up to him and says, “Are you John Lennon?” And he said, “No but I wish I had his money.” Which I promptly stole for myself. [imitating a fan] “Are you David Bowie?” No, but I wish I had his money. It’s brilliant. It was such a wonderful thing to say. The kid said, “Oh, sorry. Of course you aren’t,” and ran off. I thought, “This is the most effective device I’ve heard.” I was back in New York a couple of months later in Soho, downtown, and a voice pipes up in my ear, “Are you David Bowie?” And I said, “No, but I wish I had his money.” “You lying bastard. You wish you had my money.” It was John Lennon.
- From David Bowie’s speech to Berklee College of Music’s Class of 1999, delivered at the Hynes Convention Center, Boston, 8 May 1999
Capp: Now you have a song and one of the lines, and correct me if it isn’t: “Christ, it ain’t easy. Everywhere I go, they’re gonna crucify me.”
John: Rubbish. I didn’t say it. The lyric goes: “Christ, you know it ain’t easy. You know how hard it can be. The way things are going, they’re gonna crucify me.” And you, baby.
Capp: This isn’t my song. These don’t express my…
Yoko: We are all together in this world. Let’s face it. You and I are married together in this world. You see, it’s like being stuck in…
Capp: -That is a very unkind thought to plant in my mind. I want to tell you that this may stay with me and I’ll wake up screaming. This is not true. You say that to him, not to me.
Yoko: That’s your paranoia. Everybody’s married in this world…
Capp: -No, it’s just a matter of taste.
John: What do you want to know?
Capp: In the lyric, you said they were going to crucify you.
John: -Yeah. If you take it literally.
Capp: How did you mean it?
John: They’re gonna crucify me and you and everyone else.
Capp: But you said, “They’re going to crucify me.”
John: If you’re gonna take it literally. Me is you. Me… And I say that we’re all one.
Capp: I didn’t permit you to speak for me. Who are you speaking for?
John: I took that liberty, Mr. Capp. I was speaking on behalf of the people in general, in a poetic sense. As a representative of the human race I’m speaking for us all whether you like it or not.
Capp: Whatever race you’re the representative of, I ain’t part of it. Maybe yours is the human race and mine is something less hirsute. But whatever race, it’s your race. You belong to a race on your own.
Yoko: Everybody in this room represents humanity. Everybody in this room.
Capp: No, you don’t represent me, though. You don’t write songs for me. I want to make that clear to all of Canada. Especially for you. I’ll let Kate Smith sing my songs.
John: Who do you write your cartoons for?
Capp: I write my cartoons for money. Just as you sing your songs. Exactly the same reason. And exactly the same reason much of this is happening, too, if the truth be told.
John: You think I couldn’t earn money by some other way by sitting in bed for seven days, taking shit from people like you? I could write a song in an hour and earn more money.
Capp: You got into bed so people like me could come and see you.
John: But not for money, that’s what you’re saying. I could earn money in more easier way than doing this.
Capp: So could I. I could make a lot more drawing people like you, than confronting you. And I must say it’s much more appetizing drawing them… because I can leave them.
John: I prefer singing to doing this but I’m doing this for a good reason.
Capp: What you’ve just done is when you said:”Taking shit from people like you.” Now, I was invited here. You knew I was coming.
John: Yeah, sure. That’s right. But we’re not doing it for money.
Capp: You haven’t any manners at all.
John: And you have manners?
Capp: I’m your guest. And, really even if…
Yoko: Mr. Capp, may I say one thing?
Capp: I’d be delighted with any conversation.
Yoko: Okay. I’d like to add to that…
Capp: -Good God, you’ve gotta live with that?
John: Nice guy!
Capp: I can see why you want peace. God knows you can’t have much. I’m delighted to have met you, Madame Nu.
John: It was great meeting you, Barabbas.
Capp: But I’m sure the other three guys are Englishmen.
John: What does that mean?
Capp: You think about it.
Derek: -Get out!
John: I’ll try to work it. Now, Derek.
Capp: Oh, really, come on!
Derek: But I’m not having these people insulting you.
John: Leave it. We asked him here. He’s right.
Derek: Ok, forgive me.
Capp: Look, Derek, it’s not for me to forgive you, it’s for your psychiatrist.
John: (singing) Christ, you know it ain’t easy You know how hard it can be
I had not seen John for years, but when he died it was like having an arm cut off. I can’t explain my feelings, even to myself. During the following week I avoided the radio & television, although I could manage newspapers. They weren’t as emotionally demanding as a voice or picture going over John’s life or, even worse, a re-run of an interview with John looking out from the television as if he was really still there. As for listening to any of his records, the very thought made me wince with pain.
-Julia Baird
I was downtown on Fifth Avenue. The first bit of news I got, I thought, “He’ll make it.” You know, “It’s just a flesh wound.” And then, later on, the news really came. He wasn’t just a mate of mine, he was a mate of everybody’s, really. He was a funny guy. And you realize that you’re stunned. You really don’t believe it. And you think, “God, why can’t I do anything about it?” I got well drunk on it. And I had another one for John. Then there was the confusion, the phone calls, trying to find out if Yoko was OK. There were the Beatles, and there was John. As a band, they were a great unit. But John, he was his own man. We got along very well. We didn’t see each other very often, but he would sort of turn up at your hotel. Usually, if I was in the city, I’d stay at the Plaza. If John turned up, that meant John wanted to party. He didn’t come there to discuss, you know, philosophy - although it would end up like that. I would just get into town, and there’d be a knock at the door: “Hey, man, what is going on around here?” We would get the guitars down and sing. And, in our spare time, discuss world domination. He’s rubbed off on me as much as anybody. A bit of me rubbed off on John, too, you know. He took it with him. My father just passed away, and he winked at me just before he died. I really feel a lot better about death now. I’m getting off on that wink. I’d give the wink to John.
-Keith Richards
