JOHNNY DEAN GIVES
THE BACKGROUND
OF THE BEATLES'
OWN FAN MAGAZINE
The idea that the Beatles should have a magazine of their own first came to me when "Please Please Me" topped the charts in February 1963. Although Brian Epstein liked the idea and wanted to go ahead as soon as possible, it seemed ages before everyone had agreed the details and the first issue of the Beatles Book hit the news-stands on 1st August 1963.
Even in those early days Brian would not do anything "unless the boys agreed", because he realised that having their own fan magazine was not just another venue to be played but an important step which would affect them for years afterwards. It took several exchanges of letters to sort out the deal because in 1963 Brian always started business negotiations by asking for 50% of the profits. As the famous SELTAEB merchandising deal in the States proved a couple of years later, it was a very bad approach to any merchandising or publishing venture. Most managers invariably asked for a royalty on every copy sold. That way the artists got their money and if the publisher made a loss on the deal that was his bad luck.
But the prime consideration back in those heady days was that the Beatles had to like you or, at least, be willing to put up with you if you were going to work with them. Editing their magazine meant that I would have to be at most important events and lots of minor ones too, sitting in on recording sessions, standing around the dressing room on tour and watching from the wings while they performed on stage. So we would have to get on with each other. Brian said he'd arrange a meeting so that I could discuss everything with John, Paul, George and Ringo.
My very first meeting with the Beatles took place in the BBC Playhouse Theatre on the Thames Embankment in London where they were recording a Saturday Club radio show for the BBC. Anyone who has ever been near a theatre or cinema when a really big celebrity is appearing will know the kind of atmosphere that is created by their mere presence, and the Beatles were certainly generating a lot of electricity by the spring of 1963. Small groups of girls were all over the place huddled together in quick conferences to decide the best place to see the Beatles. Suddenly a little group would break up and rush off having received one of those mysterious rumours that "they were just getting out of a car round the front" or "were just about to emerge from a side entrance".
When I entered the foyer a BBC doorman viewed me with the greatest suspicion. Giving me a 'you're doing a very bad job of hiding those couple of fans you've stuck under your jacket' look he finally agreed to let me pass. A few quick enquiries revealed that the Beatles were sitting upstairs. I walked up the side stairs and emerged into the gloom at the back of the circle. The four Beatles were in the seats down on the right.
Famous people seldom look like their publicity pictures. The Beatles certainly didn't. Perhaps it was the lack of flashlights glinting in their eyes or the fact that I had a chance to compare them with other people standing around. Whatever the reason, they were a bit smaller and thinner — no, a lot thinner than I had expected. And they all looked very subdued and solemn. There was absolutely no trace of the smiling, larking, wise-cracking boys from Liverpool that I had read about.
It quickly became obvious that Paul was going to do most of the talking. I'd obviously passed the 'John test' which consisted of a quick once-over from behind his glasses. Paul suggested that we all go off and have a cup of tea to talk about the magazine thing. Despite the acres of pictures and copy that appeared in magazines and papers already, Paul was not convinced that there was enough material to fill the magazine every month. "What on earth are you going to put in it?" he asked me. I told him that there were enough photographs of the Beatles and stories going round to fill several magazines each month.
I assured them that, although I would have to keep in regular touch with them, I would make sure that it was not overdone. I think that the point they liked most about having their own magazine was that it wouldn't colour or distort any of the stories about them. They also welcomed the idea that their fans could immediately be informed about anything that was about to happen like a record release or a new tour.
Having met quite a few pop stars who seemed to find it difficult to put a sentence together I was impressed by the Beatles. They seemed to be intelligent people who knew what they were doing and where they were going, and their Liverpool accents would charm the fans anywhere. A short time later we all shook hands and off they went to do their Saturday Club appearance, while I went off to think about the first issue.
My very first photo and interview session with the Beatles took place at EMI's Abbey Road Studios on July 1st 1963. I decided to use Philip Gotlop because, although he was in his early fifties, he was the doyen of pop photographers, taking nice, clear, sharp shots which were reproduced in all the weekly newspaper and pop magazines. I also knew that he had already photographed the Beatles and he told me that they had got on together very well.
I had been to EMI's Abbey Road studios several times before — in fact, I'd made a record in No. 2 studio a couple of years previously. When we heard that the Beatles were about to arrive we waited outside and as they drew up in their cars about twenty fans — all girls — rushed into the forecourt to get autographs. George Martin turned up in his little white Triumph Herald, John and Paul in a Jaguar, then Ringo and George. The Beatles signed a few autographs and then dashed into the main entrance. Once inside, we exchanged quick greetings but it was obvious that the Beatles' minds were on the recording session.
I found out afterwards that the Beatles had only just finished writing the songs the day before. As soon as they walked into the studio and took out their instruments, John, Paul and George went into a huddle with George Martin and music publisher Dick James in the far corner, and started playing through the songs they were going to record.
Bathrooms are marvellous places to sing to yourself because your voice sounds so much better when it echoes off the bare walls. Recording studios are just about the worst place to listen to anything because the walls, ceilings and everything else are designed to mop up the echoes so that none of them come through on the mikes during a recording session. It makes everything sound dull and thin.
I distinctly saw Dick James nodding his head in approval after a few bars; but I didn't find "She Loves You" very impressive on first hearing. The lyric was very basic and simple and the first few run-throughs made me feel that it was not quite up to the same standard as "Please Please Me". When I hear people
now saying that they 'knew' a certain song was going to be a big hit and that they were incredibly impressed by it the very first time they heard it, I do wonder if there isn't a bit of the old hindsight at work. Maybe they were, but I can only tell it as it actually happened.
I was encouraging Philip Gotlop to shoot anything and everything, of course, but once the recording session really got underway we left. Recording sessions are rather long-winded affairs and the constant playing of the same number over and over again often gets rather boring to everyone apart from the people involved. You certainly can't take photographs during them because the clicks of the camera shutter would be picked up by the mikes.
The next day, I got a call from Brian. It was obvious he wasn't happy about something but he was never a person to punch you in the teeth. Finally he said what he had to: "The boys would rather you didn't use Philip any more. They don't want him to be the Beatles Book photographer." I got the message: the boys wanted somebody more their own age, so I had to find another photographer. I didn't want to use one of the people who worked a lot for the pop papers because the temptation to take a roll for somebody else would have been too great. Finally, I went for Leslie Bryce who became the ‘official’ photographer of the magazine for fifty-one editions, later replaced by John Kelly, Mal Evans and others.
Johnny Dean editor