How Did the Beatles Announce Their Breakup?

The Beatles' breakup was not announced in a formal or official manner. Instead, it was a gradual process that unfolded over several years, marked by tensions and disagreements among the band members.

The first indication of the Beatles' breakup came in September 1969 when John Lennon privately informed his bandmates that he was leaving the group. However, the public announcement of the breakup did not occur until April 10, 1970, when Paul McCartney issued a press release to promote his solo album, "McCartney." In the press release, McCartney included a self-written Q&A section where he addressed rumors of the Beatles' breakup and confirmed that he was leaving the band. This announcement effectively signaled the end of The Beatles as a functioning group, although legal formalities to dissolve their partnership continued for several more years.

The breakup of The Beatles was a complex and emotional process that involved personal, creative, and business factors. While there was no official announcement or press conference, the band members went their separate ways, pursuing solo careers and leaving behind a legacy as one of the greatest and most influential bands in the history of popular music.

 

One Guy Standing There Shouting "I'm Leaving"

By Jann S. Wenner / May 14, 1970

There is almost no attempt in this new set to be anything but what the Beatles actually are: John, Paul, George and Ringo. Four different people, each with songs and styles and abilities. They are no longer Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and it is possible that they are no longer the Beatles.
- From the review of the White Album (The Beatles)
Rolling Stone, December 21, 1968

The status of the Beatles hasn't changed much since then. Only now bitterness and mistrust have begun to set in. For if they have indeed "broken up," the break took place well before Paul McCartney released his new album and announced he was leaving.

In words of John Lennon, "We were long gone, a long time ago."

What has happened in the last few weeks is the public result of the bitter fight over Beatle business manager Allen Klein and the formal end of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting team.

And underlying that is the passage of time, in which boys turn into men, in which they marry, in which they grow up, in which they grow apart.

"The Beatles haven't had a future, for me, for the last two years," John said after all this hit the papers. "All of us are laboring under this delusion about Beatles and McCartney and Lennon and Harrison and Starr. But, you know, we all have to get over it, us and the public. It's a joke. What we did was what we did, but what we are is something different."

If there is a "reason" the Beatles broke up, it goes back to a series of events that center around the formation of Apple. After Brian Epstein's death and the release of Sgt. Pepper, the Beatles were set adrift to find their own direction without guidance. They started Apple, set up to be "run" by the Beatles as a collective, and in it they installed their longtime friends and associates to take care of the business.

They found out, however, that four musicians and their road managers do not a successful record company make, no matter who they are. John, George and Ringo, bored with the daily meetings over minor business hassles, soon drifted away from it, and it quickly became Paul's trip.

Paul - who in the meantime had married Linda Eastman, whose father and brother are music-business lawyers - couldn't run it either. And it was a mess. Apple turned into a huge financial loss, draining like a sieve, under incompetent management replete with freeloaders, hangers-on, loyal and loving Beatle workers, and all of it bogged down by bickering, with the Beatles unable to resolve it.

John soon let it slip to the papers that the operation had bled the Beatles nearly dry. Then he brought in Allen Klein.

And the fight began. John and Yoko Lennon in one corner, Paul and Linda McCartney in the other. John, with his clothes off and other weird trips, drifting further and further away from Paul, the "nice Beatle" repulsed by John's carryings-on. And John, with George and Ringo, wanting Allen Klein in to bring order to the chaos, versus Paul, whose new in-laws wanted to take over the Beatles.

So it went. And so, they "broke up."

When did the Beatles break up?

John: "The Beatles' White Album. Listen - all you experts listen, none of you can hear. Every track is an individual track - there isn't any Beatle music on it. I just say, listen to the White Album. It was John and the Band, Paul and the Band, George and the Band, like that. Paul and the Band. What I did was sort of say, 'Fuck the Band. I'll make John - I'll do it with Yoko,' or whatever. I put four albums out last year and I didn't say a fucking word about quitting."

The current reports of the breakup were the result of a story released to wire services by McCartney's brother-in-law, New York attorney John Eastman, in which the new album was announced along with statements that Paul had formed his own production company and was planning to do more things on his own.

This was quickly followed by the release of a startling four-page question-and-answer interview in which Paul said he was not planning to make more records with the Beatles, disavowed Allen Klein, made a few "anti" remarks about John and Ringo, said he didn't foresee a time when he and John would write songs again and announced that he had broken with the Beatles.

"I'm telling you," said John, "that's what going on. It's John, George and Ringo as individuals. We're not even communicating with or making plans about Paul. We're just reacting to everything he does. It's a simple fact that he can't have his own way so he's causing chaos. I don't care what you think of Klein - call Klein something else, call him Epstein for now - and just consider the fact that three of us chose Epstein. Paul was the same with Brian in the beginning, if you must know. He used to sulk and God knows what. Wouldn't turn up for the dates or the bookings. It's always been the same, only now it's bigger because we're all bigger. It's the same old game.

"You know, it's like this," John said, "when we read all this shit in the paper, Yoko and I were laughing because the cartoon is this: four guys on a stage with a spotlight on them; second picture, three guys onstage, breezing out of the spotlight; third picture, one guy standing there, shouting, "I'm leaving.' We were all out of it."

Have We All Forgotten What Vibes Are?

By John Lennon / April 16, 1970

When Yoko and I were first contacted about the peace festival by Ritchie Yorke and John Brower - as usual with anything to do with peace - we said yes and hoped it would work itself out after. We did make it clear that we didn't want - and didn't have the ability - to handle any organization - but we did want complete control - if our names were to be used to hustle the thing together.

In the early stages we weren't sure whether the show would be free or not. There was a lot of talk about the "Stones' disaster" and we were swayed into thinking maybe if it's free, people would have less respect or some such bullshit. However, Brower and Yorke persuaded us to come to Canada and "announce the peace festival," which we did in our usual way.

When the press started asking about is it free or not, I said things like, "Maybe it would be better to pay the artists, but nothing had been finalized and we were going to have further discussions with Brower," etc.

When they asked me if the Beatles were coming, I answered that of course I would ask them - in fact, I would ask "everyone who was anyone," which I intended to - but only when I had a complete rundown on the show: How much? Where? How? Why? In fact, I wasn't going to ask anyone I knew, even vaguely, to commit themselves until we knew what was happening.

We never found out! They talked about foundations and what they could do with all the "millions" we were told would be earned. All the time in Canada and after we were getting pressure to corner Dylan/Beatles/Presley, but we still didn't have any idea how Brower intended to arrange things.

Later, when we were in retreat in Denmark, we began thinking, "Why shouldn't it all be free? Surely they can hustle some big firms or something to put up money." And, anyway, it looked like the national and local government were interested. Wouldn't it be a great plug for "Young Canada" - and the tourist trade?

In Denmark, we'd had no phone for a few weeks, being in a far-out farm house. When we finally got one, all hell let loose (also, we had been fasting - meditating, energy exchange, telepathy - for days). We got the horrors when our personal assistant, A. Fawcett, rang, saying, "Disaster, disaster. Klein is frightening Brower off! - and the Canadian government doesn't like it and Brower won't touch the festival if Klein is involved!" And a lot more Aquarian paranoia.

We fell for it. I rang Allen and insulted him no end with the biggest, loudest verbal ammunition I could muster, screaming about what he had done to Brower at their meeting at Allen's office. Allen was hurt - but I even suspected that. (You can't imagine the shit about him we've had laid on us for the past few years, plus we were so sensitive and "clear" at just having had no contact outside the small group of us.)

Anyway, I shellacked him and told him we had tape recordings of his meeting with Brower (Brower told us he had tapes of conversations with Allen, etc., which proved this and that - this is before I rang Allen). And they had lots of "dirt" on Klein, connecting him with the Mafia and God knows what else. So I said, "Stop just telling me about it (having heard it all before). Show me some proof."

The situation seemed so desperate that we allowed Brower/Yorke to come to Denmark with their "proof." They arrived with a cassette player which had on it a fairly straight conversation between Brower and Klein about the festival. Yoko, me, Tony and Melinda all thought that the way Brower was phrasing his questions to Allen was more peculiar than Allen's answers, which were noncommittal. In fact, all Klein said was, "Come and see me and we'll talk in the office, not on the phone."

The so-called "dossier of dirt" on Klein - some supposedly from Canadian-government sources, including something about him ringing the Danish king and queen - turned out to be a typewritten page of shit from people who obviously disliked Klein for many different and personal reasons - but all of it was opinion.

We both felt so ashamed of what effect this hearsay crap - all of this information had been gathered by them ringing people and saying, "What do you think of Allen Klein?" - had on Brower/Yorke and Fawcett. (I forgot to mention the look on Brower's face when we told him we definitely wanted to do the festival free! He asked for "time to think," etc., said he'd committed acts previous to contacting us - surprise! surprise!)

Then we asked Klein to come over so we could put them all together in one room and sort it all out. The meeting was tense at first but then relaxed a little. We talked and pointed out what their or anyone's paranoia had done or could do to them and sent them back to their hotel in Aalborg in what we thought was a better state of mind.

It didn't work. They spent the night prowling the corridors - Brower with a knife! Waiting for the Mafia to get them!

(A friend of ours who was also staying at the hotel, Dr. Don Hamrick - or Zee, to his Martian friends - sent them a love note which they interpreted as the Mafia death sentence! So you can imagine where their heads were at.)

We had decided to do the show free before they arrived - and were even more convinced after seeing them. We blamed the "bad vibes" on the fact that so much money was being talked about that people had lost their heads. It was resolved that Brower would go home to Canada and produce a proper plan of campaign: How we could do it free or why not.

We did mention one or two things had been said and done without our knowledge, e.g., Jerry Wexler, of Atlantic, was on the Peace Committee. And why hadn't we been informed - and why was he on it, in fact? This was put down to us having no phone for three weeks - which seemed reasonable. Another was an ad in Billboard, which was asking radio stations to join the Peace Campaign. We didn't like the style of the ad, so we drew out what we wanted. It never did happen the way Yoko and I wanted it. We were told it was "too late." Too late for what?

After they had all gone home, we decided we needed someone in Canada with Brower to keep his "vibes" steady. We still hoped that the larger concept of the peace festival and its karmic effects on the world had lifted him out of the bread hang-up scene and he would turn on to being a peace promoter.

Tony said he had a friend who had been at Harbinger with Zee and many others and who could probably go to Toronto and help. I don't know what happened, but two guys turned up at our Denmark farm - one said he'd had the peace-festival idea a long time ago and had all the plans and logos. So we listened, made music together and they went back to the hotel in Aalborg. We decided not to use them as they looked like they would confuse the issue even more. (The spokesman was a magician who was going to turn anyone who messed up the festival into a frog or something.)

They went back to Canada - with no instructions from us and moved in on Brower's scene to "straighten him out." The results we've been reading about in Rolling Stone, i.e., going to California and blabbing off about who was to be invited and who was not, etc.

(All this without any words to John and Yoko who had "complete control." That reminds me. On the tape between Klein and Brower, Brower kept saying he would give us "artistic control." Klein answered no to that. We all know that "artistic control" means very little and in fact we haven't even had that! They also had taped phone calls from Yoko which we inadvertently heard at the beginning of the cassette - just testing, I suppose!)

Since then, various whispers have reached us about the "impossibility of doing it free - the government won't let us, etc." Brower and Klein met again in New York, Klein telling him that John and Yoko wouldn't do it any other way but free. Meanwhile, Ritchie Yorke was doing some nice things 'round the world with Ronnie Hawkins (who, by the way, ended up paying for all the phone bills that had accumulated during our stay in Toronto, which was arranged by Brower. We'll look into it Ronnie, don't worry!).

Ritchie got to London sometime in late February and told us about his trip: How he had been hearing strange things about the festival, and Brower in particular. We said, "Yes we heard it, too, what shall we do?" We discussed many times after Denmark. The pressure and the tale-telling was bringing me down but Yoko kept waking me up again, reminding me of our original intentions. Ritchie then went to Toronto to find out what was happening.

The latest news we got was that Brower was again in New York and so was Rabbi Abraham L. Feinberg - who sent us a telegram saying his name was at stake (don't worry, Rabbi. God will save you!). I'm not sure whether Klein saw Brower or not but one or two things came out from New York - Village Voice, New York Times, Rolling Stone - which, I suppose, were meant to make our position clear. But obviously they didn't because here we are - as a result of Jann Wenner's telegram! We've had only one call from John Brower over the past one-and-half months (we've been editing the Montreal bed-in film) and it came, surprisingly enough, after the articles mentioned above. Brower spoke to Yoko (I wonder if he taped it?). He said he was sending his plans to us. One and a half weeks has gone and still nothing. I rang Allen and he said he was still waiting for the plans, too!

In spite of everything - and you haven't heard half - Yoko and I would still like to be part of a peace festival in Canada or anywhere else. Our latest idea was to have everyone at the festival singing only Hare Krishna - including all those famous stars I'm supposed to be getting in touch with whom I'm sure will run a mile if I call them them now, after all the shit of the last few months - anyway there wouldn't be any money involved in that! No chance! People would have to come for the right reasons whatever they are.

One thing in the Rolling Stone article which struck us: Someone said, "Do we need a festival?" Yoko and I still think we need it - not just to show that we can gather peacefully and groove to rock bands, but to change the balance of energy power. On earth and, therefore, in the universe.

Have we all forgotten what vibes are? Can you imagine what we could do together in the one spot - thinking, singing and praying for peace - one million souls apart from any TV link-ups, etc. to the rest of the planet. If we came together for one reason, we could make it together!

We need help! It is out of our control. Brower does not represent us any more than you do. All we have is our name. (Klein will help any way we want, but he won't let us be hyped.) We are sorry for the confusion, it's bigger than both of us. We are doing our best for all our sakes - we still believe. Pray for us.

Love and Peace
John and Yoko

A Private Talk with John Lennon: 1970

By Ritchie Yorke/June 28, 1970

You've been talking lately about the fact that the Beatles aren't the musical group they were two or three years ago - that you are now all pursuing completely separate directions - Yoko's and your scene, for example. In fact, you are virtually all competing with one another.

Yes, well, the thing is that because there's no room on an album, we've got to have other outlets and I'm using the Plastic Ono Band. George will use whatever, Ringo's got an album in the can and Paul's doing Mary Hopkin or whoever he decides to do on his own. We still might make Beatles' products - right now, I just don't know. But we need more room - the Beatles are just too limited. That's where the trouble is.

When you're working on a new Beatles album, how many songs would you personally come up with, and then how many would you get to use in the end?

Probably at least seven or eight each and there's only fourteen tracks on an album, so you can imagine what it's like. So you have to choose the ones you like best or the ones that are easiest to get across to the others. That's the trouble.

Do you dislike writing a song and not being able to record it immediately?

I can't stand it. I can't stand having songs lying around for years. It just annoys me, and I think it annoys all of us. I cut "Revolution 2" - the one that's on the album - and "Revolution 9" with them, but they went away, and I wanted it out as a single 'cause it was revolution and there was a lot of violence going on and I wanted to get it out fast. But the others came back from holiday and said we don't think it's commercial or not good enough or some crap like that. And we waited and waited and we got "Hey Jude," but we would have had both if we hadn't waited.
That kind of thing I can't wait for. They let me put "The Ballad of John and Yoko" out, but I wanted it out as news, not as something like the film of the event. I wanted the video of the event happening then and that's it really. I can't wait.
I offered "Cold Turkey" to the Beatles but they weren't ready to record a single, so I did it as the Plastic Ono Band. I don't care what it goes out as, as long as it goes out.

Have you ever thought of writing songs for other artists as another possible solution?

No, not specifically for them because if I write a particularly good song, or one I like, I want to do it myself. But I often think of giving somebody I like a song, or something like that, but I usually don't get around to it. But the thing is with all our songs, remixing it is as important as writing it.

When you are about to record a new Beatles album, do you feel very excited about it? Does that old excitement still permeate the sessions?

Oh yeah, sure, sure. Every time you go in the studio you get the whole thing all over . . . the nerves and the light goes on and everything. It's still the same battle every time and the same joy.

One gets the impression that you are the most active of the Beatles while the others are quite content to take it easy.

That's not always like that . . . only at the moment because I'm active in peace. For a couple of years, Paul was the one who was hustling us together. Saying, "C'mon, record" and we'd go, "Ah, c'mon, we don't feel like it," and all that. Now I've got something other than just recording to think about and that's what's made me active.
I was really losing interest in just doing the Beatles' bit and I think we all were, but Paul did a good job in holding us together for a few years while we were sort of undecided about what to do.
And I found out what to do and it didn't really have to be with the Beatles. It could have been if they had wanted. But it got that I couldn't wait for them to make up their minds about peace or whatever, about committing themselves, just the same as the songs, so I'd gone ahead and I'd have liked them to have come along.

Did you ever try to get them into the peace scene?

I did a little at first, but I think it was too much like Yoko and me and what we're doing and trying to get them to come along and I think they reacted. I hassled them too much, so I'm really leaving them alone. Maybe they'll come along, wagging their tails behind them, and if not, good luck to them.

If I just mentioned the Sixties, what sort of things come to mind?

I don't think in terms of that. The Sixties I suppose was, I dunno, my early twenties for me, and the Fifties were the good old days, your teenage days. That's what they are to me personally. I don't think much about it; I don't think about this or that decade until people start asking me.

What about new product . . . the Plastic Ono Band, John and Yoko, the Beatles.

Ah, well, the next thing that's sort of in the can is the next John and Yoko "freak" album and one side of it is laughing and the other side is whispering . . . so far anyway. We got John and Yoko and a few engineers - whoever was at EMI at the time - and the guy who cuts our records at Apple and the top EMI Beatles superengineer . . . and we put on funny noses and all that and we got stoned and laughed for track over track. And, of course, all the guys, even the ones working for us but originally from EMI (we sort of infiltrated and took all the people we liked, the young people), they were all shouting their own in-jokes.
It's a scream just hearing the in-jokes. It's like when the Beatles used have the sort of in-jokes. Everybody gets into that sort of humor if you're with them for a long time, so this is like we're sort of sending out that in-joke even though it's everybody's joke. And it makes you laugh, you know.
And then we started whispering the piece that Yoko had done. You like to whisper to one person and they have to pass it on to the next person and by the time it gets back it's gobbledy-gook. Yoko had done this at a theater and there were about two hundred or three hundred people and they passed the whisper right on through the theater, and the guy comes to her at the end to tell her what it is after climbing up the balcony and running all the way down, and she said, "Don't tell me." So that was a scream. And we were doing this whisper thing at the session, and they filmed us doing it. We just got screaming, you know.
People just couldn't get it together. They couldn't even pass a whisper along, they were laughing so much. So it really makes you giggle. It'll start Year One off with a laugh.
The Beatles' stuff is in the can. It comes out in February . . . Get Back. And I've got a couple of songs I'll try to make into singles for the Plastic Ono. I keep trying to finish the ones I have when I get an opportunity because I keep writing one line, which always gets me because I can't forget it and I have to keep going back to it. So I've got six or seven that I could call songs and another six or seven that are one or two lines or a thought. But it's getting around to them, with all this going on. But I'll do it, all right, because I like recording. It's something I need.

In the aftermath of the week in Canada with the meetings with Trudeau and Munro, how do you feel about the results?

Well, the meetings, of course, made it really well worthwhile. It was worthwhile anyway but there were about three big turn-ons - one was Dick Gregory, the other was Trudeau and the other was Munro and the other was the men from the drug commission. That's about four actually.
We felt that we'd made a communication with the Establishment and it was, like, surprising to find that they were straight. Of course, it is snobbery to assume that the whole Establishment is one big thing - like it is the same to assume that all Jews are this and all blacks are that. We all are guilty of that.
These people are trying and they're driving a very big machine and there's lots of copilots and they've got to be very careful how they do it.
But it certainly gives us hope that there are straights in there who are trying to communicate with us and all the youth. They do want to know, but they're not sure how to approach us, so we must stretch our hand as they're beginning to try and stretch theirs. No compromise, but, you know, communicate.

You were saying to Health Minister Munro that you were a little worried about talking to so-called Establishment people can appear to be copping out in the eyes of some young people and that you were worried about the danger of this.

It wasn't so much a matter of being worried as of being aware of it. It's just like when the Beatles left Liverpool. Some people thought we'd sold out by leaving Liverpool or leaving even one particular club - the Cavern. It worked even on a dance-hall level.
If you left one dance hall to play at another, you lost a few people. And so when we left Liverpool we lost a few but gained a lot more. And when we left London and England - we lost a few in England because they thought we'd sold out to America. So I'm aware that that'll happen. But we're just about at the stage - John and Yoko and the peace thing - where we're just about to leave England and have just done "The Ed Sullivan Show" and it's just beginning - Year One A.P.

Do you feel confident that the new year, Year One, is going to be a positive year for peace?

Yeah, well, like we think that this decade was a positive decade, not a depressing one. It's the decade of all the music, the generation, and the freedom and the sort of awareness and all the jazz and the moratoriums and the Woodstocks and the Isle of Wights and everything. This is just the beginning. What we've got to do is keep hope alive. Because without it we'll sink.

Peace Press Conference

There are a lot of people around the world now trying to promote world peace. Why do you think that you can succeed where they have so far failed?

That's like saying why bother keeping on Christianity because Jesus got killed. We don't think people have tried advertising before. Pretend peace is new 'cause we've never had it. So you start advertising it: . . . Sell, sell, sell.

Are there any similarities between where the Beatles were during the Cavern days and this peace campaign now?

We do consider that we're in the Cavern stage; you know, we haven't got out of Liverpool with this campaign. And we've got to break to London and then America. I feel exactly the same as I did then about the Beatles as I do about peace and what we're doing now. But I don't care how long it takes, and what obstacles there are. We won't stop.

Was there any one incident that got you into the peace campaign?

Well, it built up over a number of years, but the thing that struck it off was a letter we got from a guy called Peter Watkins, who made a film called The War Game. It was a long letter stating what's happening - how the media is controlled, how it's all run, and it ended up: "What are you going to do about it?"
He said people in our position and his position have a responsibility to use the media for world peace. And we sat on the letter for three weeks and thought it over and figured at first we were doing our best with songs like "All You Need Is Love."
Finally we came up with the bed event and that was what sparked it off. It was like getting your call-up papers for peace. Then we did the bed event.

Is it true that you were planning on going to Biafra a short while back?

Yeah. At the time, Yoko was pregnant and we decided not to go and she had a miscarriage. Then we thought and thought about it. But we're scared to go somewhere where it's happening. 'Cause we don't want to be dead saints or martyrs. I'm scared of going to Vietnam and Biafra and, until I'm convinced that I can do better there than I can do outside of it, I'll stay out of it. I'd go to Russia, but I'd think twice about China.

YOKO: I think we did a lot of good for Biafra when John returned his M.B.E.

You said you were going to have a peace vote. How do you answer accusations that the sort of thing borders on naiveté?

Let's see. If anybody thinks our campaign is naive, that's their opinion and that's okay. Let them do something else and if we like their ideas, we'll join with them. But until then, we'll do it the way we are. We're artists, not politicians. Not newspapermen, not anything. We do it in the way that suits us best, and this is the way we work.
Publicity and things like that is our game. The Beatles' thing was that. And that was the trade I've learned. This is my trade, and I'm using it to the best of my ability.

But what is the point of having a vote for peace?

Why do people have those Gallup polls? If we get a vote from around the world with millions and millions of kids that want peace, that's a nice Gallup poll. We can wave those figures around. That's all. It's a positive move; all we want is a yes.

Will the Beatles play at this festival?

I'll try to hustle them out. Maybe I'll get on two of them, or something like that. I got George on the other night for UNICEF in London. I can't speak for the Beatles because I'm only me. But if I can get them, if I can get Elvis . . . I'll try. I'll try and get all of them.

Do you think the festival could be something like the recent Stones affair in California, where some people died?

The Stones' one was bad. I've heard a lot of things about that concert. I think it was just a bad scene. It won't be like that here. I think they created that either subconsciously or whatever, and that is the result of the image and the mood they create. I think if you create a peaceful scene, you stand a better chance. We have six months to prevent that sort of thing; the Stones thing was done overnight.

How soon can the world reach a state of peace?

As soon as people realize that they have the power. The power doesn't belong with Mr. Trudeau, Mr. Wilson or Mr. Nixon. We are the power. The people are the power. And as soon as people are aware that they have the power, then they can do what they want. And if it's a case of they don't know what to do, let's advertise to them to tell them they have an option. They've all got a vote. Vote for peace, folks.

Don't you think your long hair and your clothes may put old people off in your pursuit of peace?

I understand that. Many people say, "Why don't you get a butch haircut and a tie, suit?" and the thing is, that's what politicians do. We just try to be as natural as possible. Now, how many members of the public are gullible to politicians, with the nice picture of the family, the dog and the whore on the side? Now, I could do that, but I don't think people would believe it. That's the politicians' way, but youth certainly doesn't believe it anymore.

Have you ever thought of taking your ideas to someone like Henry Ford?

When we get a bit organized. You see, what we didn't want to become was leaders. I believe in that Wilhelm Reich guy who said, "Don't become a leader." We don't want to be the people that everyone says, "It was your fault we didn't get peace." We want to be part of it. It's like people said the Beatles were a movement; but we were only part of the movement. We were influenced as much as we influenced.
And John and Yoko refuse to be the leaders of the youth movement for peace. That's dictatorship. We want everybody to help us. And then, if it takes time for this kind of news to get through to Henry Ford or Onassis or anybody like that.
When we get something functional happening and a few people that aren't John and Yoko, we can approach from that angle. We can then say we've got so much money, will you double it? 'Cause we know they all do charity for whatever reason.

Do you believe in God?

Yes, I believe that God is like a powerhouse, like where you keep electricity like a power station. And that he's a supreme power, and that he's neither good nor bad, left, right, black or white. He just is. And we tap that source of power and make of it that we will. Just as electricity can kill people in a chair, or you can light a room with it. I think God is.

Don't you worry about being identified as a father figure?

I believe that leaders and father figures are the mistake of all the generations before us. And that all of us rely on Nixon or Jesus or whoever we rely on; it's lack of responsibility that you expect somebody else to do it. He must help me or we kill him or we vote him out. I think that's the mistake, just having father figures. It's a sign of weakness; you must do the greasing yourself.
I won't be a leader. Everybody is a leader. People thought the Beatles were leaders, but they weren't, and now people are finding that out.

What, in brief, is your philosophy?

Peace, just no violence, and everybody grooving, if you don't mind the word. Of course, we all have violence in us, but it must be channeled or something. If I have long hair, I don't see why everybody should have long hair. And if I want peace, I'll suggest peace to everyone. But I won't hustle them up for peace.
if people want to be violent, let them not interfere with people who don't want violence. Let them kill each other if there has to be that.

Are there any alternatives?

You either get tired of fighting for peace, or you die.

Don't you think the Peace Grease may be a substitute for the massive problem young people are having with drugs?

With, the liquor problem is even worse. I think the drug problem is a hang-up and a drag, but if we hadn't had methedrine, and all the rest of it, the ones that are going to go through that trip would have been alcoholics. Everybody seems to need something in the way society is; because of the pressure. So it would have been alcohol or something. The problem isn't what they're on, it's what made them go on whatever they're on.

The best antidote for drug taking and liquor is hope, it seems to me. You're giving young people hope.

The only time Yoko and I took heavy drugs was when we were without hope. And the only way we got out of it was with hope. And if we can sustain the hope, we don't need liquor, hard drugs, or anything. But if we lose hope, what can you do? What is there to do?

John, would you have achieved that hope without the success of the Beatles?

The Beatles had nothing to do with the hope. This is after; I mean, the Beatles made it four years ago and they stopped touring and they had all the money they wanted, and all the fame they wanted and they found out they had nothing. And then we started on our various trips of LSD and Maharishi and all the rest of the things we did. And the old gag about money and power and fame is not the answer. We didn't have hope just because we were famous.
You see, Marilyn Monroe and all the other people, they had everything the Beatles had, but it's no answer. So John and Yoko had the same problems and fears and hopes and aspirations that any other couple on earth does, regardless of the position we were in and regardless of the money we had. We had exactly the same paranoia as everybody else, the same petty thoughts, the same everything. We had no superanswer that came through Beatles or power. In that respect, the Beatles were irrelevant to what I'm talking about.

Getting back to how it started, how did you and Yoko initially find ground for this campaign?

Both Yoko and I were in different bags, as we call it. But both had a positive side - we were singing "All You Need Is Love" and she was in Trafalgar Square, protesting for peace in a black bag. We met, we had to decide what our common goal was, we had one thing in common - we were in love. But love is just a gift, and it doesn't answer everything and it's like a precious plant that you have to nurture and look after and all that.
So we had to find what we wanted to do together - these two egos. What they had in common was love; we had to work on it. What goes with love, we thought, was peace. Now we were thinking of all this, and planning on getting married and not getting married and what we were going to do and how we were going to do it and rock & roll and avant-garde and all that bit, and then we got that letter from Peter Watkins. And it all started from there.

John Lennon Talks with Marshall McLuhan

By Ritchie Yorke/June 28, 1970

John and Yoko spent the next couple of days meeting press for personal interviews and occasionally frolicking in the snow on the Hawkin's farm.

On the Saturday afternoon before Christmas, John met Marshall McLuhan, Toronto's silver-haired communications prophet. The meeting was arranged by CBS television.

McLuhan: Can you recall the occasion or the immediate reasons for your getting involved in music?

John: I heard Elvis Presley.

McLuhan: Ah.

John: And that was it. There were lots of other things going on but that was the conversion. I kind of dropped everything.

McLuhan: You felt you could do it at least as well as he could?

John: Yeah. But I thought we better get a few people together, because maybe we wouldn't make it alone. So we did a team job.

McLuhan: The British are still more team-oriented than the Americans. In terms of performance. The star system doesn't play quite as well in England. The private star.

John: They have a reaction to that in England - treating their stars and entertainers like animals. We're not like the Americans, to be hyped by Hollywood. The attitude is be quiet, do a dance at the London Palladium, and stop talking about peace. That's what we get in London.

Professor McLuhan then outlined this theories about why rock festivals are becoming larger and larger. "Frustration creates bigness. And when people are frustrated, they feel the need to expand, to get more room and length. The man who gives up smoking gets so frustrated that he puts on huge amounts of weight, even when he doesn't eat anything.

"Frustration in organizations results in huge growth of cities, businesses, countries, territorial imperatives and so on.

"Frustration releases adrenaline in the system. Adrenaline creates much bigger muscles and bigger arms and legs and has tremendous weight on the political body.

"This is why dinosaurs ended in sudden death, because as the environment became more and more hostile, more and more adrenaline was released into their bodies and they got bigger and bigger and then they collapsed.

"It could happen to America; it already happened to the British Empire. Adrenaline just gave out. In fact, your songs represented the end of that big adrenaline flow. As far as the U.K. was concerned, Beatles music was the end of the adrenaline. And the beginning of peace and contentment."

McLuhan then switched to a more familiar topic: the medium as message.

McLuhan: Language is a form of organized stutter. Literally, you chop your sounds up into bits in order to talk. Now, when you sing, you don't stutter, so singing is a way of stretching language into long, harmonious patterns and cycles. How do you think about language in songs?

John: Language and song is to me, apart from being pure vibrations, just like trying to describe a dream. And because we don't have telepathy or whatever it is, we try and describe the dream to each other, to verify to each other what we know, what we believe is inside each other. And the stuttering is right - because we can't say it. No matter how you say it, it's never how you want to say it.

McLuhan: The moment you sing, you feel you are communicating much more.

John: Yes, because words are irrelevant.

McLuhan: Rowan and Martin say "We don't tell jokes; we just project a mood." You're concerned with projecting a mood and defining it. Putting down some pattern so that other people can find the pattern, participate, and . . .

John: As soon as you find the pattern, you break it. Otherwise it gets boring. The Beatles' pattern is one that has to be scrapped. If it remains the same, it's a monument, or a museum, and one thing this age is about is no museums. The Beatles turned into a museum, so they have to be scrapped or deformed or changed.

McLuhan: They're in danger of becoming good taste?

John: They passed through that. They have to be thoroughly horsewhipped.

McLuhan: What do you think we're moving into in the way of new rhythms, new patterns?

John: Just complete freedom and nonexpectation from audience or musician or performer. And then, when we've had that for a few hundred years, then we can talk about playing around with patterns and bars and music again. We must get away from the patterns we've had for these thousands of years.

McLuhan: Well, this means very much in the way of decentralizing our world, doesn't it?

John: Yes. We must be one country and stick together. You don't have to have badges to say we're together. We're together if we're together, and no stamps or flags are going to make anybody together . . . folks.

The snow was falling in great white sheets as John and Yoko left McLuhan's office and climbed into the Rolls for the drive back to the farm.

It was still snowing the next morning when they met Dick Gregory at the airport. Gregory entered the Peace Festival discussions with vigor, pulling out ideas about festival spinoffs and entertaining the household.

On Monday morning, everyone was up early and rushed to Union Station for the trip to Montreal. First came a press conference and then twenty-four hours of meetings with politicians and representatives of the commission investigating the legalization of marijuana in Canada.

Tuesday morning at 10:30, the press in Ottawa was stunned to learn of an impending meeting between Lennon and the prime minister. One of the conditions which the prime minister's office had imposed on Lennon if there were a meeting between the two, was that there would be no advance publicity of any kind. At precisely 10:55, John and Yoko were rushed by limousine to the Parliament building.

The Lennon's fifty-one-minute meeting with the PM was private and, afterward, they were besieged by the press.

"If there were more leaders like Mr. Trudeau," John said into a field of microphones and cameras, "the world would have peace." Later John told me Trudeau had talked about how important it was for him to keep in close contact with youth, and how he would like to meet the Lennons on less formal ground for further discussions.

From the PM's office, the Lennons were escorted to the ministry of health for a lengthy meeting with Health Minister John Munro and senior members of his department.

When the generation-gap subject hit the table, Munro seized the opportunity to get some Lennon advice. "Often when I talk with young people," he said, "I can't even get my mouth open before I'm battered with placards and posters and catch phrases. Quipped Lennon: "Get your own posters together and fire them back."

Back in London, Lennon said: "It was the best trip we've ever had. We got more done for peace this week than in our whole lives."

Year One

By Ritchie Yorke/June 28, 1970

TORONTO. Snow was starting to fall in splashing flakes on the windows. Ronnie Hawkins yawned. Yoko Ono cuddled closer to John Lennon, took a drag on his Gitane cigarette and closed her eyes. The whole household was drowsily relaxing in the rambling old farmhouse on the outskirts of Toronto that Ronnie Hawkins and his wife, Wanda, owned.

Ed Sullivan's vacuous visage bounced onto the screen as Wanda came into the room and exclaimed: "Look, it's the Beatles on TV." John and Yoko came to life and Hawkins reached out to turn on the volume. Lennon leaped out of the sofa and knelt a few inches from the screen.

The long shot cut to a close-up of Paul McCartney singing "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed . . ." Lennon laughed, "Boy, was he shitting then."
Then a rerun of the group's first-ever appearance on the Sullivan show. Up came Lennon, short-haired and obviously nervous, strumming his axe and screaming into the mike. John had returned to the sofa and Yoko was laughing.

"Is that really my husband?" she teased. John shrugged.

Shea Stadium: John, leading the rest of the Beatles through the police guard and the cutaway shots of the crying, craving teenyboppers. "Yes, yes, yes," John bubbled. "I remember every moment of that. It was incredible."

A few minutes later, Sullivan was replaced by a Canadian network's public-affairs show, "W5," and Lennon was back on the screen. He was talking about peace and a massive pop-music festival for peace to be held in Canada next summer. His words were clear and full of conviction. The interviewer wanted to know if the rest of the Beatles would be there performing. "Yes, yes," he said impatiently. "I'm going to ask each of them. I can't say now that they'll play but I think they will."

John and Yoko's arrival in Toronto for the third time in less than a year was preceded by a large "War Is Over" campaign that had been simultaneously unveiled in twelve cities the previous morning. In Toronto, thirty roadside billboards went up, along with thousands of posters and handbills. Capitol Records of Canada took out newspaper ads with the same message.

The first press conference took place at the Ontario Science Centre.

"Well," announced John, "we've come back to Canada to announce plans for a big peace-and-music festival to be held at Mosport Park near Toronto on July third, fourth and fifth next year. We aim to make it the biggest music festival in history, and we're going to be asking everybody who's anybody to play.

"The whole idea of our new peace campaign is to be positive. You can't expect anybody to do anything for nothing. You must run things the way the Establishment does. The idea came from the Toronto people. They wanted to produce the biggest pop festival in history by the usual means, and then give a percentage of the gross to a new peace fund, which we're setting up. But it won't be the usual fund thing, and that's what we liked about the idea.

"We are forming a peace council that will administer the fund as it sees fit. If we decide, for example, that we want to give food to starving children in Biafra, we won't use traditional means. We'll hire planes and take the stuff there ourselves. We're doing away with all the old methods because they haven't worked very well from what we can see."

John spoke slowly, distinctly, choosing his words with evident care. Yoko, looking nervous, chewed a great wad of gum and, for the most part, only listened, smiling at John continually.

"One of our friends here in Toronto has come up with the idea that the new year should not be called 1970 A.D. Everyone who is into peace and awareness will regard the New Year as Year One A.P. - for After Peace. All of our letters and calendars from now on will use this new method.

"Along with the festival, we are going to have an International Peace Vote. We're asking everyone to vote for either peace or war and to send in a coupon with their name and address. This is going to be done worldwide, through music papers initially and, when we've got about twenty million votes, we're going to give them to the United States. It's just another positive step."

Why Canada and not the U.S.? According to John Brower, one of the team working with the Lennons on the festival and allied projects, Lennon feels that Canada has become the world's greatest hope for peace. "The political climate in Canada is completely different from any other country. The politicians here at least want to hear what young people think. They'll talk, and that is the important first step."

At the Apple Christmas Party, 1970

by Carol Bedford

"I'm drunk, so I need to prop myself up," George explained. "If I don't lean on the wall, I think I'll fall over. I haven't been this drunk since I was fourteen." George started giggling.

"I'm sorry my letter was so strong, but you really pissed me off that night."

"Yeah. I was confused by your letter," he said. "What did you think I said?"

"You said 'it's warm in there' - the studio. It was like you were putting us down for waiting out in the cold for you. I mean, I know you don't encourage us to wait out for you, but I thought you didn't mind. It really hurt our feelings that you were putting us down for it."

I was breathless from my long speech. The anger was rising again, and I didn't want it to. He was really being very nice.

"That's not what I said, and that's certainly not what I meant," he smiled in a conciliatory way. "The heat had been turned off in the studio. The thermostat was broken or something. We were freezing! When I came outside, it seemed warmer out than in. I looked into the studio and the orange lights made it look so warm and cosy. What I said was 'It looks so warm in there.' I was making a statement. It looked warm, but wasn't. Of course, you weren't to know that. But I'd never put you down. What you do is your choice, not mine. But since you brought it up, I think you should quit waiting out. I mean you can't get anywhere with it, can you?"

He smiled, putting his face close to mine. His right hand, index finger only, stroked my left breast, hesitated on the nipple. Somehow it seemed innocent, like he was offering comfort and no more.

"How could I stop waiting out? I'd never see you again," I said.

"Just Walk Away, like the song says," he laughed. (Margo later gave me the Matt Munro single.) "Anyway," he added seriously, "if you think of me, I'll be there. I'm with you always, in here," he tapped my breast gently and removed his hand.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that. It would be impossible to 'get over' you. Every time I turn on the radio, I'll hear your voice. How can I forget someone I hear all the time or see in the papers?" I looked at him. He was listening intently, staring deep into my eyes. Was he just trying to focus or was he trying to read something in my eyes that was not in my words?

"I'll always be with you. We're part of each other. I wrote a song about us the other day. It goes like this: 'I, I, I love you: You, You, You love me.' We're together always. We're in each other. You don't need to see me walk out of a building, do you?"

Queen Says "No" To Pot-Smoking FBI Members

4/23/70

airtel

To: SACs, New York, Los Angeles

From: Director, FBI

JOHN LENNON
GEORGE HARRISON
PATRICIA HARRISON
INFORMATION CONCERNING

On 4/22/70 a representative of the Department of State advised that the American Embassy in London had submitted information showing the captioned individuals planned to depart from London, England, on 4/23/70 via TWA Flight 761 which will arrive in Los Angeles at 7:15 local time. These individuals are affiliated with the Beatles musical group and Lennon will be traveling under the name Chambers while the Harrisons are using the name Masters.

Lennon and the Harrisons will remain in Los Angeles until 5/6/70 for business discussions with Capitol Records and other enterprises. They will travel to New York City on 5/7/70 for further business discussions and will return to London on or about 5/16/70.

Waivers were granted by the Immigration and Naturalization Service and the Embassy was to issue visas on 4/22/70. In this case waivers were necessary in view of the ineligbility of these three individuals to enter the U.S. due to their reputations in England as narcotic users.

While Lennon and the Harrisons have shown no propensity to become involved in violent antiwar demonstrations, each recipient remain alert for any information of such activity on their part or for information indicating they are using narcotics. Submit any pertinent information obtained in form suitable for dissemination.

All Things Must Pass: 1970

by Carol Bedford

I remember clearly that fateful day when the decision swung in Paul's favour: a receiver was to be appointed. We gathered at Apple early, to wait. We didn't even know if the three would come by Apple after such an ordeal in court. We just felt that we had to be close to them somehow to show our support for the Beatles.

We saw John's white Rolls coming down the street. We prepared ourselves to be more cheerful than usual. We were not prepared, therefore, to see three laughing guys climbing out of the back seat. John looked like he was crying with laughter. George and Ringo were laughing too. We couldn't believe it. They were supposed to be depressed for God's sake. They had lost the battle. What was there to be happy about? We soon found out.

Debbie came out of Apple to tell us. After the decision was announced, the three were upset. They filed out of the courtroom sullen and dejected and issuing 'no comment' to the crowds of reporters pressing in on them. Once in the car, John decided they were not going to be depressed. He wanted to do something to make them all feel better.

'Anthony,' he leaned forward to his big Italian driver. 'Do we still have those bricks in the boot? The ones for the garden.'

'Yes,' Anthony said. 'I'm sorry. I forgot to take them out last night.'

'Oh, no, Tony,' John grinned, 'don't be sorry. You've just made my day. Drive to Paul's.' John sat back and when he saw Ringo and George staring at him, he burst out laughing.

John refused to explain his good mood during the long drive to McCartney's house. On reaching the house, the girls outside made way for the Rolls to park parallel to and directly in front of the double black gates. John did not bother to ring the bell, but scaled the wall. This started the girls giggling. John came round from the inside and opened the gates. He came out and went to the boot of his car. Ringo and George got out of the car to watch, mesmerized. Anthony moved to the boot and opened it for John. John grabbed two bricks and moved through the gates. He stood a little distance away from the house. His audience of girls, George and Ringo stood silent. No one could believe it, even when they saw it. John threw the bricks, one after another, through Paul's front windows!

The sound of glass shattering filled the air. Everyone, including Paul who was inside, stood still. All of a sudden, George started laughing. He threw his head back and laughed. Soon Ringo joined in. They got back in the Rolls and headed off towards Apple.

When we saw them arrive, laughing, our surprised reactions must have been the same as the girls' reactions outside Paul's home. Our stony silence probably added more to John's thorough enjoyment of the whole affair.

We stood not knowing what to feel now. We had mixed feelings. The three are happy; we are sad. Our group is breaking up in more ways than one.