The World Spinning Round (Beatles/Paul McCartney)

Interlude: View from the Control Room

May 1969

Olympic Studios was tucked away in an unassuming brick building on a quiet residential street in south London. The only giveaway that it was one of the finest recording studios in Europe was the small white sign above the door and the muted thump of drums escaping every so often. Otherwise, it blended seamlessly into the surrounding buildings.

Except when The Beatles showed up. Or when they even thought about showing up.

No one could sort out how the Apple Scruffs always seemed to know where the boys would be. There was a day back in '67 when George Harrison couldn't remember if they were recording at Trident or EMI. Unable to reach Neil, he'd finally walked over to the front gate and asked the girls. Sure enough, they knew.

On the day in question, a group of six girls loitered by the entrance whispering eagerly amongst themselves. They picked at a pile of chips from a nearby shop and grasped copies of The Beatles tightly against their sides. One was wearing a black-and-white plaid uniform, clearly having skived off from school. Two others were decked out in the latest threads from Zarby as if they had spent all their cash just to impress one of the lads. The others somehow managed to blend into the background.

As Glyn Johns climbed out of his bright red Fiat, the girls paused all activity and looked over expectantly. While he did look a bit dreamy with his newly-grown beard and Janis Joplin sunglasses, he wasn't a Beatle and thus wasn't worthy of their attention. Glyn glanced at them as he hauled the heavy bag out of the boot of the car, wondering how long they'd been standing there.

The side door leading to the tiny car park opened as a scruffy session musician -- still not a Beatle -- ducked out to have a smoke. He paused when he saw the girls, shook his head slightly, and began to head back inside when he saw Glyn. He glanced again at the girls before holding the door open wider for the producer to slip through.

"The Beatles are recording today?" the musician asked, both annoyed that even more girls would soon flock to the studio entrance and excited that maybe one of them would pop in on his recording session. How groovy would it be for Ringo to lend a drum fill? Or, better yet, Paul to make a small but exceedingly clever suggestion that would turn what he knew was a middling tune into a #1 hit?

Glyn shook his head. "Just listening to some mixes today."

The musician gave a low whistle. "They reserved Studio 1 to listen to playback?"

Studio 1 was Olympic's crown jewel. It had a distinctive arched roof that was a sound engineer's dream because it maintained the crispness of the music while rounding off the jagged edges. The angled sections prevented hot spots or weird canceled-out notes that would be troublesome in pretty much any other studio. In short, it just made everything sound bigger and richer but kept the snap and clarity.

It was high on the list of Glyn's top ten places in the world.

And, yes, it was a bit odd to use that particular studio just to sit in the booth and listen to mixes, but Paul and Ringo had a thing for the architecture so that's the way it was.

Glyn unlocked the door to the control room, his smile widening as he took in the familiar wraparound mixing console. It was custom-made for Olympic and was angled higher than a run-of-the-mill console, meaning it was easier for engineers to operate. On the other side of the room were Ampex tape machines, a pair of 4-tracks, an 8-track, and various mics.

"You look like you want to marry the mixing board."

Glyn turned his head to see Ringo leaning against the door frame with a good-natured smirk on his face. His shaggy hair reached his shoulders and he looked a bit more stressed than the last time Glyn had seen him.