John, Yoko, and Glyn arrive, and the captions tell us that the band “still intend to record their new songs live, without edits or overdubs.” Outside of the baffles around Ringo’s drum kit, which inhibit the vibrations from the amplifiers, they won’t be using headphones or other isolation techniques to which they’d become accustomed over the years at the EMI studio on Abbey Road. They are determined to hone each song until they can play it flawlessly. They have time, since the sound in the room hasn’t been perfected yet, either from the band’s perspective or Glyn’s.
The captions go on to say that while the TV special has been abandoned, they’ve decided to keep the film crew on so that the footage of them making the album will become their next feature film. (After the productions of A Hard Day’s Night and Help!, the band and their management struggled to find a suitable “third” film. They had minimal involvement in the animated Yellow Submarine, so United Artists would gladly distribute a movie showing “the Beatles at work.”)
Even though the scope of the project has changed, there is still the common knowledge that some kind of “climax” for the film will be required, so we can expect African amphitheaters and whatnot to be suggested ad nauseam. Time is still a factor, as Glyn has a previous recording engagement that will affect the schedule. (Keep in mind, the date for the show they’d originally planned was over the previous weekend.)
There’s a sweet moment when Yoko approaches George Martin to ask where she might be able to buy classical music scores, and he recommends some local sheet music dealers. Beyond that, she will be seen and not heard today.
The boys read aloud from an item in a news tabloid hinting at dissension in the Beatle ranks. Along with comments on their personal lives and pro-drug stance, the writer drops hints about the tension that caused George’s exit the week before. Both John and George take umbrage at the suggestion that fisticuffs occurred, so we can discount that myth. Derek Taylor, their press officer, arrives on cue, and they ask him whether they have any legal recourse. He doesn’t seem concerned; it should also be said that by his own account, he spent much of his tenure in his position drunk on Scotch and high on other substances.
One running joke begins on this day. Michael had directed the Rolling Stones’ Rock And Roll Circus TV special—another project that would be delayed, this one for almost 30 years—which featured John jamming with Eric Clapton, Mitch Mitchell, and Keith Richards. Michael wants John to film an intro for the Stones’ set, something along the lines of “And now, your host for this evening.” John will provide occasional variations on this line for the duration of Jackson’s edit.
At one point Mal brings around a strange object which is said to be Magic Alex’s latest technological innovation: a prototype guitar with a swiveling neck that would allow the player to switch between bass strings on one side and guitar strings on the other. As daft as this appears, Mal then holds up what looks like a two-by-hour and says it’s the next model. Everyone laughs, even more so when George says, “Let’s give him half a million quid!”
While various technicians move equipment and wires around, the band happily jams on a variety of old numbers, including some early Lennon-McCartney originals, and made-up ones. All are clearly cheerier and more enthusiastic than when they were at Twickenham. Paul has applied the “BASSMAN” sticker from his amp to the body of his Hofner bass, and George switches between the Les Paul we’ve seen and a unique rosewood Fender Telecaster. They’re itching to get going, and soon begin working on “Dig A Pony”, despite continued feedback issues. Glyn suggests they take lunch so he can sort things out, and Ringo announces that he has a doctor appointment at 3:30. Suddenly we see Paul at the drums, and Ringo is strumming Paul’s bass upside down while John belts out oldies. Then Ringo’s back at his kit, and now it’s Paul’s turn to read the tabloid article out loud in a funny voice.
Despite not being fully up to studio quality, Glyn has been recording the band, and they are able to listen to playbacks with him in the control room. These scenes give lie to the myths that have built up over the years based on all those photos of the band sitting around with somber faces. In truth, they’re listening, not brooding, and they like what they hear. (We also get to see John intone his “I dig a pygmy by Charles Hawtrey” quip that would go on to precede “Two Of Us” on the Let It Be album.)
We hear a brief rendition of John’s still-incomplete “Madman”, then “I’ve Got A Feeling” and several jabs at “Don’t Let Me Down”, done in a variety of speeds and styles. John moves to the just-delivered Fender Rhodes electric piano so they can work on “She Came In Through The Bathroom Window”, and the boys remark that it would be nice to have a full-time pianist. Paul gets a little bossy with hammering out the parts, but the other three are fully engaged, seemingly unhampered by simmering resentment or narcotics. (It’s not clear if they’ve been drinking anything stronger than all that tea.) They finish for the evening, looking forward to resuming tomorrow.
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