Yeah Yeah Yeah (Beatles/Paul McCartney)

31. Don't be slushy

November 1966
London

Paul

The later recording sessions for Pepper were full of friends and fellow musicians, but that first session in late November was just the four of us. Official accounts would say that, after much discussion and rehearsal, the Beatles recorded only one take of the song. That makes it sound like we were discussing important subjects or, perhaps, like we were loafing around on EMI's clock. Let me assure you, it was nothing of the sort.

We just couldn't stop talking.

It was the first time we'd all been in the same room together for months, and we were on fire. We reveled in our old ways, not bothering to finish sentences because we knew the others would pick up on the meaning anyway. There was also an unspoken need to reassure each other that, yes, we'd gone our separate ways--and yes, the press was saying we were on the verge of breaking up--but we were still the same as we'd always been.

"Did it arrive?" John asked excitedly as soon as he walked into Studio 2. I'd seen him a few times since he'd gotten back from Spain but was still surprised by how much his new look transformed him. I wondered if Cyn hated his mustache as much as Alice seemed to loathe mine.

"Over in the corner," I said from my perch in a metal chair, thumbing through that day's copy of the Daily Mail. "Isn't she a beaut?"

"Ah, so, it's a lady mellotron, is it?" he asked as he walked over to peer down at the mahogany case and wooden keys. The door at the top of the staircase opened, and Ringo walked in.

"Well, you know how the ladies feel about me," I said to John with a ribald grin.

"Some of the fellows too," Ringo added as he reached the bottom of the staircase and waved a hand like a magician saying ta-da!

"Morning, Ritch!" I threw the paper on the floor before standing to stretch my arms above my head.

"More like afternoon, if you ask me," he replied as he threw a small satchel in a corner. "What did you get up to last night?"

"I was supposed to see Donovan and Julie Felix play at Fairfield Hall," I replied. "But Johnny here rang me up, begging me to sort out the mellotron chords. And all over the phone; he didn't even have the decency to come 'round the house."

"You live too far away," John replied, turning towards the control room and tilting his head to peer up. "Hey, Mal, turn me on, man, will you?"

"I live far away? You live in the bloody shires."

"Potato, po-tah-toh."

"Ringo, Rango."

Somewhere in the middle of this, George walked into the studio, shrugging off his jacket to reveal a brightly patterned shirt. "Bloody hell, is that a Mellotron Mark II?"

"Jolly good to see you, George," John said in a posh voice as he walked over to a chair and picked up his acoustic. "Thank you kindly for joining us on this fine afternoon. I shall dock your wages 20 shillings for the inexcusable lateness."

"Fuck off, like you're ever on time."

"I was today, wasn't I?"

"Should I have a medal done up for you, then?" George retorted with a smirk. "A big gold one with a bright blue ribbon, like."

"I won't take that defeatist attitude, son; I just won't, you know," John said, waggling his eyebrows as he leaned his head closer to the guitar to tune it. "Could you play an E, Paul?"

The intercom crackled as I walked over to the piano, and Mr. Martin's voice echoed through the studio. "There may be a slight problem with the mellotron."