By Terry Ott

Geoff Emerick's pay-back book, Here, There, and Everywhere, does add a great deal to the various mysteries of the Fab Four's recording technique.

I very much enjoyed reading this geek stuff, although others, especially women I have interviewed, say that part of the book was boring.

Oh well, to each his/her own.

But contrary to all the glowing reviews this book got in even the mainstream media- which don't know shit from a tree when it comes to the Fabs- I found Emerick's book to be mostly a "Look at me, look what I done, and look how these wankers did not give me my due."

Sorry, but Geoff's ego and hubris can't be hid amongst the odd altrustic qualifier, and his slagging of dead Beatles, sucks, I think.

Now, Emerick may he entirely correct when he describes John Lennon as a prick, George Harrison as a sullen sod, Ringo Starr as a low-talent dolt, and Paul McCartney as a great guy, but I don't have to buy it.

To me, Emerick seems like the worst kind of nostalgia dope, the kind that Lennon sneered at with comments like, "You want us to be the loveable Hard Day's Night mop-tops again," as Geoff starts slagging 3 of the Fabs from the White Album on with the premise of it was just not like the golden, olden days of Lad lore.

And you know what? That is a completely human and natural reaction when one has lived through what he did, but his editors should have made this narrative not as transparently bitter, and petty.

I also have been hearing from sources that many of the scenarios laid out by Geoff suggest he either was not paying attention when the events he describes in the book allegedly took place, or he was on tea, as well.

But that does not mean that I don't recommend that Beatle fans read this book, but rather should read with the salt-shaker near by, and possibly after it is remaindered.

My good bud Dallas Barbie Doll took the time and postage to mail me the Geoff Emerick book, which for some bizzare reason is STILL not available in greater Canuckistan.

Now, your correspondent has had precious little time to fully peruse the tome, but the section on the making of the White Album did catch the 4th Best Beatle Blogger In The WWW's attention.

Emerick, who clearly did not care much for John Lennon by 1968, if ever, described John's behaviour in the studio as sometimes "psychotic." Nice mouth, directed at a dead guy.

In any event, Emerick writes that at the first song recorded for the WA, Revolution 1, Lennon was being fussy over his guitar sound, and told Geoffy to do his "bloody job."

So, Emerick fed John's lead axe through the same preamp disortation he used for I Am The Walrus, and the song got recorded in under a dozen takes, with one being especially venomous, and Lennon "spitting" out the words, according to Emerick.

This take, writes Emerick, was 10 minutes long.

To my understanding, it has never been booted in its entirety.

Could this be the second most high "Holy Grail," of outtakes, besides numero uno Helter Sketer, 27 minutes worth?

You tell me.

Received some rather tedious and tawdrey e-mails from readers of the 4th Best Beatle Blog in the whole, wide www, fookin' wrold, ragging and wanking on about BBs obsession with the Rutles.

OK, shoot me!

Yes, I find the Rutles deliciously ironic, not to mention hilariously funny, mate.

But even though the Rutles was/is a masterpiece-apparently Stig gave Eric Idle a peek at the footage that went into the eventual Anthology video and Idle used it to very good measure-could anything the Rutles did be weirder than say, real life.

John Lennon shot and killed by a stupid twit nutter?

George dies young of cancer, after being almost knifed to death by another nutter in Harrison's own house?

Dirk dumps Martini for Millstone, finds out she was a tart, and now we have all this, and then less McQuickly millions?

For me at least, history has shown that Dirk, Stig, Nasty and Barry are just about interchangable with John, Paul, George and Ringo, except that the Rutles have actually had less heartache.

Yes, some fans think that the Rutles took far too much piss out of the Fabs, but not me; I think it was just about right, and timeless.

And who could ever forget the immortal words of Ron Nasty, whilst getting wet for peace.

"Society is just an effective sewage system."

In Robert Greenfield's new and generally excellent biography of 60s LSD guru/scamster Dr. Timothy F. Leary, there are more than several mentions of the Beatles, and their music and cultural impact.

And contrary to previous claims and published reports, Greenfield writes that one of Leary's UK confidantes, had given LSD to Paul McCartney in early 1965.

As Macca was supposedly the last Beatle to have tea sometime late in 1966, and the date claimed by Greenfield would seem to pre-date that by at least 18 months- the official previous version of Dirk's psych drug use- do we have news here?

I would guess no, and that Macca was confused with John Lennon, who was at one point in the mid 60s a solid Leary fan, even borrowing a line from one of Leary's LSD books-a line that Leary had also borrowed from the Tibetan Book of the Dead, the (in)famous "Turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream,"-for Tommorrow Never Knows.

Lennon, who co-wrote one Sgt. P song that advised that one could get high with a little help from friends, would, by the end of the decade, regard Leary as just another false profit.

Another interesting link between the Fabs and Leary is the apparent use of some text from a Leary pal by George Harrison, for All Things Must Pass.

Again, the Leary friend's writings were borrowed from other Tibetan works, but went like this: "A sunrise does not last all morning/ All things pass/ A cloudburst does not last all day/All things pass."

Hmmm. Good thing Doc Leary and Co. did not legally pile on George for this one, like others did for My Sweet Lord.

Yet, even though the Beatles-and many others- would cease to see psychedelic drugs as "the way," Greenfield's book does have some great memories of that heady time when it was thought by many that LSD could.

When the Grateful Dead first met Leary in early June, 1967, the Dead brought with them to Leary's upstate New York freak-out house, Millbrook, a pre-release copy of Sgt. Pepper. According to Greenfield, when Leary heard the LP for the first time, he emotionally exclaimed, "My work is finished. Now it's out!"

Later, that Summer of Love, Leary would say, "how clever and unexpected and yet typical of God to send his message this time through the electric instruments of four men from Liverpool..."

Despite the fact that Charles Manson would later claim the same concept, the summer of 1967, acid, and the Beatles, was really something to behold.

Next year at this time, it will be 40 years ago, today.

Coach Steve will no doubt have a link shortly to a July 16 story in the UK's Daily Mail.

The long-and to be honest rather tedious-tome about the current Macca/Millstone snit does not break much new ground, but rather expands on previous stories, adding little "out there" and "friends say" bits to flesh out the package.

And I'm afraid that is what we can expect for the next year or so, as the marital meltdown heads for court.

For instance, one good shot accross the bow was launched in the Daily Mail piece.

Supposedly Millstone wants to take her young daughter, and split to the United States, which I'd imagine she might actually be able to do.

The story speculates that Dirk would not be too happy of such a happenstance, and so Bob's yer uncle, there's yer first bargaining chip.

I suspect that we will see all sorts of these little tidbits-true or not-in the coming months, as both sides jockey for position.

But you see, here's one area that a lot of people are missing: the saucy soft-porn pix of Millstone are one thing, hard for her to deny. But so far, the various stories making the rounds about her being a high priced call-girl all come from former associates and "friends." I'd suspect that Millstone legalists would destroy such witnesses at any kind of trial, so if I were Macca, I'd leave that whole area alone. A no-win situation if there ever was one, even if he is pissed, as the Daily Mail maintains.

In fact-and it's so damn easy to spend someone else's money-but if were Dirk, I'd run devil run, to cut a sizeable deal with Millstone to make the whole thing go away.

Any kind of trial would be a circus that would put anything in Vegas-even Love-to shame, and Macca would, or could be reduced to common cuckold by the press.

Actually, I am already way, way, sick of the whole affair, even if the Mail is correct, and much more damaging dirt will be spilt in the coming days.

And you know what? This might be the right time for Dirk to follow Leggy, and accept a teaching post in Australia. Dirk could then write a song called Farcical Divorce Tour.

Roll up!

Much pissing today in the UK press about the so-called "lost" Beatles tapes-and apparently Stig's passport as well-as being the subject of a criminal trial in London for the light fingered who obtained the tapes sometime in the last 10 years.

If you recall, the booting boys were busted back in 2003 in the Netherlands, and many, many hours of Get Back/Let it Be/ audios were recovered by the cops.

Now, Apple appears to be claiming these are the lost famly jewels-you know, the tapes John Lennon described as "shitty"-and at least one tab I read claimed that there had been inferior bootlegs circulating of the tapes prior to the busting.

Bollocks!

There were SUPERIOR bootlegs of the sessions circulating.

The 30 Days boxset being one of them, as well as another series of boots, which as long as they were sourced from the purloined tapes, were about an 8 or 9 out 10, soundwise.

So perhaps that should be brought up at some point.

In addition, many of the endless list of songs played by the Fabs whilst screwing around, are but 30 or 60 second fragments, before they break down into Rutle-like discussions betwixt the Lads.

One (in)famous CD I heard had Stig asking Mal Evans-I believe-to make sure to get him the right size, and colour of shoe.

Not exactly the stuff of Grammy.

In any event, perhaps the fact that Apple has the nicked tapes now for already 3 years, they might do something with them!!!

For in the end, the cash you make, is equal to, the records you make/release.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: Reader Phil informs as to the exact quote offered by John Lennon on the infamous tapes.

"The shittiest shit we ever recorded."

We stand corrected.

SECOND IMPORTANT UPDATE: Reader Chris sez we still got it wrong, pointing to the Rolling Stone interview with JL, Lennon Remembers.

"It's the shittiest load of badly recorded shit with the worst feel to it."

We stand corrected, again.

THIRD IMPORTANT UPDATE or HERE WE GO AGAIN:

Jarret sez, no, no, no; it went like this, as John talked of Phil Spector's LIB.

"He was given the shittiest load of badly recorded shit with a lousy feeling to it ever, and he made something out of it."

We stand corrected, again and again.

When I sit down to write this column-except for the times I'm standing on my head-I try to get a feel for what is floating around out there, across the universe, of the Beatle galaxy.

The New York Times, today, had another big piece on the Vegas show, and once again, I gotta tell ya that I am still not convinced.

A trusted reader of mine, Boppin' Berkeley Lissa, suggested that perhaps George Harrison-who was apparently the orginal catalyst for the Love show-was using his sly sense of humour from beyond the grave to illustrate what a circus the Beatles actually were/are. So, ending up in LV is no wrong address, or gig, she opined.

Yet, I must confess that I just don't know what the public will dig today.

For instance, look at the recent weekend movie box-office tally.

The Johnny Depp pirate sequel, which many critics shat upon, did 132 mill!

Now, I am a big fan of Depp, and can't wait for his performance as Hunter S. Thompson redux in The Rum Diaries, skedded for later this year, but you can bet the farm that the HST flick will be lucky to do a quarter of the Pirate movie.

Why?

Is it because those wishing to be entertained or even informed are for the most part dim-witted?

I just can't believe that, so why do silly movies pull 'em in, and works of art, like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas do next to nothing at the box office, and have to rely on super-duper DVD editions to even break even.

As for the Love show, should we look upon this as a modern-day Hair, just way, way, way, way off-Broadway?

Under the circumstances, maybe that's the only way to look at it.

Most of the e-mails to me have supported the show, so perhaps that is what fans want, yet the Beatles in any form in Vegas is a slippery slope that appears to have come out of left field, and I don't mean a blue state.

And regarding the promised 5.1 Love soundtrack, don't forget that we have been promised such things-Let It Be, when, when?-by Apple many times before, only for it to come up snake eyes and the fans left to mutter, "what the fook?"

Perhaps Apple will pull a rabbit out of hat.

Or will it only be be a skunk?

While we applaud MOJO mag for their fun-filled July ish on the top 100 tunes by the Fabs, we must also sayeth that some of the selections-or rather, their ratings- have the whiff of strong tea drink.

Of course, the format of having other music peeps and nearly notables pick the rank of the songs is fraught with danger, as some of the picks and explanations thereof seem a tad daft and enthused by a substance surely stronger than even the most primo of tea.

But what really caught my eye and ire was the "Shabby Road" insert, wherein MOJO judged the 5 "worst" Beatles songs, if there are in fact such things.

Damn you MOJO. Piggies IS NOT vile, but brilliant, you tea twits!

For You Blue is shabby? You got something agin Stig, you louts??!!!

However, I must say the pick for numero uno Fab-A Day in the Life-is, arguably, correctomundo.

Yet I save my utmost tea rage for UNCUT, July ish.

Under the dubious heading of 10 Worst Protest Songs, these strong Indian tea twits had the gaul-the giddy gaul-to list Give Peace A Chance as one of the WORST!!!

Are they mad, or just completely drunk with the pleasant's effects of tea,lots of it, and biscuits?

This makes me want to own a squadron of tanks.

I want to tell you, this is cock-up, and now we have all this.

And please lock me away, but it is almost enough-almost-almost, I said, to make the 4th Best Beatle Blogger (as picked by Times Online) in the whole wide www to want to take a teaching post in Australia, or at least Cleveland.

The horror. The horror.

Well, well, well.

The Coach and I have been taking it on the chin for a few daze cuz we had the the unmitigated temerity not to suck up sweetly to the Vegas Love show.

As reader Mat pointed out, 6000 speakers!!

Yes Mat, that IS impressive.

Then there were the other taunting e-mails, sort of like na-na, you guys were not first in coverage, and other such get a life sheit.

Look, it's not that I am against the show, or even the concept. It's just that Veags is such a long, long, long way from Liverpool, and in my opinion, what the spirit of/is the Beatles is all about.

Now granted, as Bob Dylan once sang, things have changed, as LV does not have the stigma anymore of say, the Vegas of Elvis.

Yet in the end, the Fabs show is in LV for the same reason EP was: money, and lots of it.

Perhaps the whole thing would not have the whiff of greed if it were a travelling raod show or such.

But for me, at least, it will take a while to get used to the notion of "The Beatles in Las Vegas."

There is a semi-told tale of fate, a fate that saw Paul McCartney rejecting Yoko Ono in 1966 or so, but (dramatically it turned out) passing her on to John Lennon instead.

The rest, as they say, is a fantastikal history tour.

Well now, what with both warriors of the 60s footloose and fancy free-MIllstone evidently cooling shiny black stilleto heels in Brighton, univited to LV- what is there to make of their hugging and affection in Vegas this past weekend at the premier of Love: All You Need Is (more) Cash.

You would have thought they did not think much of one another on the long and winding road that led to the desert.

I even received a taunting e-mail from a twit, advising that Abbey Road and BB had somehow been scooped by some other online imposter in reporting the cozy goings-on in Casinoland.

Not a chance, you cheeky arse, but rather, Coach Marriaci and I felt that since Vegas is not exactly our kind of towne- and would have most likely made John Lennon puke at the thought of-we decided to pass on breathless coverage of what could quite rightly be described as a fat Elvis period maudlin of the night.

(No Julian or Cyn onstage after show? Bollocks!)

But otherwise, the team of Dirk and Chastity would represent a formidible one.

They would surely direct EMI to ditch plans to merge/buy Warner, cut a deal with Sony/CBS, and then negoitiate the merger to include the re-aquiring of a good percentage of the Beatles music publishing, and well, Bob's yer uncle, Beatle fans.

Yet on a lighter note, isn't it just so damn interesting how every summer around this time there is some sort of Fabs hype that hits the media, followed by a CD or DVD later to follow?

From 1964-66 they did it by touring, since and now they do it by newspaper and TV, and both say there will be a LOve soundtrack in 5.1 coming, but hopefully, that is not all we will see by Christmas.

Shall we dare to dream?

Bob Dylan thought the following about the Beatles in 1964 and recalled it for an interview years later: "I knew they were pointing the direction music had to go...it seemed to me a definite line had been drawn. This was something that had never happened before."

And while most of the Dylan/Fabs discussion has centered around Bobby Z handing the lads some joints in a NYC hotel room circa 1964, and then the Beatles subsequently going "Dylan" for the Rubber Soul LP, there seem to have been few notions of whether it was in fact the Fabs that contributed/caused Dylan to rather suddenly ditch the folk scene in early 1965.

The reason I am on about this matter during this fine holiday weekend, is my (finally) reading of the Greil Marcus "Like A Rolling Stone," tome, which BTW, is a great work.

When Dylan said that the Beatles were showing the way a year before his stoned masterpiece rocketed to number 2 on the pop charts in the summer of 1965-denied number 1 by, who else but the Fabs with Help-was the "line drawn" by the Beatles the reason why Dylan gave up folk?

Some argue that Like A Rolling Stone was/is the greatest pop/rock record of all time, and at 6 minutes 6 seconds, 3 years ahead of Hey Jude's seemingly incredible 7 minutes.

I mean, Help is a great tune, but the raucous Stone was surely more deserving of number 1, in the wild summer of '65 when with one longish 45, Dylan defined an entire era.

And how about the similar looney tone of Rainy Day Women 12&35 and Yellow Submarine?

When the Fabs got back to "basics," first with the White Album in 1968, along comes Dylan with John Wesley Harding around the same time.

Musicians, like the rest of us, talk, and listen, ya know.

So which, what or who came first in this Dylan/Beatles chicken and egg scenario?

Of course Dylan had done electric rock as early as 1962-63, as an outtake of House of the Rising Sun clearly shows.

Yet the proof is in the pudding-and timeline-in that with the Beatles loud jangling guitars and big beat absolutely dominating 1964, Dylan may have decided if ya can't lick 'em, join 'em.

Because you know you only get, juiced in it.

Or something like that.