Looking back on
it 50 years later, October 5, 1962 was an exceptionally good day for our
cousins across the Pond. And they really needed it. Things had been going downhill there for a
long time. Two World Wars had killed off huge swaths of two generations. London,
and to a lesser extent, other cities were still trying to rise from the rubble
of bombs dropped more than two decades before.
British industrial
infrastructure was largely ageing and obsolete.
The supremacy it once enjoyed was being challenged, largely modern
facilities and high levels of engineering from a Europe rebuilt on the American Marshall Plan dime—aid the
prideful Brits had turned down. Unemployment was high and seemingly
permanent. Intellectuals fretted over
the effects of generational dependency “on the dole,”
Class
resentments ran high in both directions.
British theater and cinema, once symbolized by the sophisticated drawing
room comedies by the likes of Noel Coward,
were now the province of the Angry Young
Men and their, bitter, hopeless working class perspectives.
The Empire upon which once “the sun never
set” was crumbling, its jewels-India and
Pakistan--long gone and possessions
in Africa, Asia and around the Caribbean either in open rebellion or
restive.
But two events
that by delightful happenstance occurred on the same day, changed a lot of
that. Or at least they energized British
culture and opened the way for a decade of cultural flowering when swinging, Mod London once again seemed the center
of the universe and the world was spending money on British music, fashion,
design, and cinema.
Both events,
somewhat ironically, owed a lot to the very Americans who had replaced them as the undisputed power of the
world. Now, if they could not regain
past glory entirely, they could, in a phrase much used later in the decade, at
least be the new Greeks in to the
new Roman Empire.
Dr. No, the first of
what would go on to be a fabulously successful film franchise, opened in London
on October 5, 1962 at the Pavilion
Theater. The film was based on a spy
novel by Ian Fleming, himself a former World War II secret agent. James
Bond was a popular paperback hero in the UK and in Europe but was
relatively unknown in the U.S.
While nominally
a British production of Eon Productions,
it was essentially brought to the screen by a partnership of Canadian Harry Saltzman and hustling American
entrepreneur
Albert R. Broccoli, better known as Cubby. Saltzman
had obtained the rights to Dr. No,
the second book in the Bond series, while Broccoli had obtained rights to the
series from Fleming. When Saltzman
refused to sell out to Broccoli, a production partnership was formed that
included Eon Productions and a holding company, Danjaq, LLC, which owned
the copyrights, trademarks, and marketing licensing for the series. The
partnership endured through several films and ended amid acrimony and
complicated law suits when a bitter Saltzman was forced to sell his half of
Dajaq to United Artists, the film’s distributor. That left Broccoli, and later his family
heirs, in complete control of the franchise.
Dr. No was shot on a relatively low $1 million budget mostly at England’s
Pinewood Studios with extensive location shooting in the Bahamas and
elsewhere. The script largely by Richard Maibaum took extensive liberties with Fleming’s
novel and injected considerably wry humor, mostly as a way of softening the
violence and hyper-sexuality that the producers feared would make it a target
of the still active American film censors.
Casting the
critical lead was a problem. Everyone
thought that the obvious choice for Bond was the suave Cary Grant. And Grant was
interested in doing the part. But he
would only commit to one film and Broccoli already envisioned a long running
series. David Niven was considered but thought to be too old. Niven ended up playing one of several Bonds
in the spoof film Casino Royal—Fleming had earlier sold the rights to his first
Bond book separately.” Fleming was said
to be pushing Richard Todd and Patrick
McGoohan, who had already had
success as a spy in the British television series Danger Man, was also selected.
In the end
Broccoli settled on Sean Connery, a scruffy, working class Scott personally totally
unfamiliar with the high rolling, tuxedo clad world of the Bond novels but who
exuded masculine energy and charismatic charm. Cannery’s only major film role
had been as a cheerful Irish peasant
in Disney’s fantasy, Darby O’Gill and the Little People.
Director Terrance Young put Connery
through a quick introduction to Bond’s world and made sure he was well tailored
and coiffed.
The film
introduced all of the elements that would become the hallmark of the film
franchise—the stylized opening sequence to pop power ballad, Bond as the suave
ruler of the casino and irresistible seducer of women, the technical gadgets,
and maybe above all the Bond Girls. Ursula Andress was the first, emerging
from the sea in a Bikini with a
knife at her belt.
Dr. No and subsequent Bond films made England
sexy and chic all over again.
Meanwhile four
other scruffy young men made their recording debut the same day.
Love Me Do, the
first single from a quartet that had been setting the dingy clubs of Liverpool
afire, was released by EMI on October 5, 1962. The B side was P.S. I Love You.
As auspicious as it seems now, the first release by the Beatles did
not attract quite so much attention as the premier of Dr. No. But it was
successful, reaching #17 on the British charts and launching the recording
career of the band with a solid it. The
same recording was re-released in England two years later when the Lads were
top stars and went to #4. Its 1964
release in the United States became one of the bands many #1 hits.
The A side was written mostly by Paul McCartney when he was about
16 years old. By that time he already
had an agreement with John Lennon to share credit on all songs. Typically one or another of them would work
something up and they would try it out.
The other one would often add elements, work on lyrics, or arrange it
for their bands. Only occasionally would
they, at this point sit down together to write.
But the process worked well and sometimes if the original pages scrawled
in school notebooks were lost, even the boys had a hard time remembering who
contributed what.
In this case John contributed the middle eight bars when the key and
tempo shift. He also worked out a bluesy
mouth harp part. American rock
and roll was their inspiration. In this
case the they drew on the Everly Brothers for the tight two part
harmonies that were becoming a hallmark of the developing band. John frankly credited the harmonica riffs
to folk bluesmen Sonny Terry and Brownie McGee—the same
performers who were influencing you Bobby Zimmermann about the same
time.
On the flip side, P.S. I Love You was
penned exclusively by Paul a few years later while the band was playing in Hamburg. Neither Lennon nor McCartney could recall any
contribution by John. And Paul later
denied rumors that it was written for a German girl friend. Instead, he wanted to use a letter as a hook
and do a song about separated love similar to The Shirelles’ big hit
earlier in 1962 Solider Boy.
Paul wanted P.S. I Love You to
be saved for later release as an A side, but was told that there were other
songs that had used the same title and that the label would only consider it
for a B side and later inclusion in an album.
Both sides were cut at EMI London Abby Road studios in September sessions
with George Martin producing.
The sessions came as the band was in turmoil. Martin did not think long time Beatles drummer
Pete Best was good enough for recording.
He suggested bringing in a studio drummer as replacement. But Lennon and McCartney had already fired
Best and were bringing on journeyman band drummer Ringo Starr. Love
Me Do was actually recorded three times.
The first with Best in his last session with the band in a demo made in
June, then with Ringo behind the drum kit, and finally with studio musician Andy White. Martin was also
unimpressed with Ringo’s performance. In
the final session Ringo was reduced to playing tambourine to White’s sticks.
In the end
Martin must have decided that Ringo was good enough after all because that was
the take put on the final release. White’s
version turned up later in albums released in both Britain and the US.
That final
recording session with White was used for P.S. I Love You, this time with Ringo playing the maracas.
Over the next
year, however, the Beatles appeared on several BBC program both live and taped at BBC studios. In each case Ring did the drumming on both
numbers, as he did at the band’s live shows.
He was quickly working his way into the heart of the band with unflashy,
but rock solid drumming.
Within a year
the Beatles scored multiple hits on the British charts, seemingly climbing
higher with each new 45 issued. They were playing to sell out crowds of
screaming female fans. The records did
just as well in Europe. The band was
well on its way to international stardom.
The lads bowl cut hair does, collarless suit coats, and pointed ankle
boots set fashion trends. Beatlmania well
on its way by the time the boys arrived in New
York to introduce themselves to American Audiences in late 1963.
By the middle of
the decade tax revenue from Beatles recordings, films and associated
merchandise and memorabilia was pouring into the Exchequer. And the Beatles
were just the tip of the spear. It
turned out that there were more young bands inspired by American blues and rock
and roll ready to break out as well. In
the States the British Invasion nearly blew America rockers out of the water.
The youth
culture represented by the Beatles would inspire the Mods, as the Rolling Stones
would their motorcycle riding rivals the Rockers. Both would contribute a new British sense
of style. Britain, famous for tweeds and
shapeless woolens, and long the mocked symbol of frumpiness was soon the center
of the fashion world was well as the Carnaby
Street look swept the world.
And the big come
back owes a lot to what happened on October 5, 1962.
No comments:
Post a Comment