Fab Foundations # 5: "Spreading your Wings”

(Personal reflections inspired by Beatles songs)

Song: “Free as a Bird”
Album: Anthology 1
Release Date: November 1994

Early this week as I began listening to disc one of Anthology 1, which covers the Beatles early years before fame and fortune kicked in, a thought crossed my mind: In my top-tier list of favorite singer/songwriter acts, at least 3 of them - Bob Dylan, Neil Young, and the Beatles – set off while still in their teens to pursue musical dreams far from home (all 3 by the way get a year in review on this Music and Memory blog site).  Bob Dylan made his way to Greenwich Village in New York City; a far cry from his home in Northern Minnesota. Neil Young travelled halfway across Canada from Winnipeg to Toronto. And the Beatles left their Liverpool, England home for a city in an entirely different country…. Hamburg, Germany to be precise.  All three of these new locales were hip and happening at the given time periods (1961, 1965, and 1960 respectively); with numerous venues for aspiring musicians to possibly catch a break in and hit the big time.  Each musician referenced here began his respective journey with nothing but a guitar and a pocketful of hope. They would all live in borderline squalor-like conditions for a time with any thought of a formal education quickly dissipating in the review mirror. Indeed, what they all had chosen to sign up for was the far more informal school of hard knocks.

I’ve read many accounts of those Beatles/Dylan/Young early years in books and magazines, and always find myself captivated. Throughout the week I’ve been thinking about the reasons why, seeing as I don’t know anyone else who gets into such “rockumentaries” to the degree I do.  In light of this pondering, I’ve zeroed in on at least one big reason, which is that I find it fascinating to learn the stories of people who take the kinds of risks that these musicians did. The safe bet after all is to heed the words of your elders and get a continuing education or become an apprentice in a trade of some kind.  Maybe join the armed forces. But to break off on your own in the hopes of making it as a musician? What percent succeed?  Likely it’s a very small number. This is probably the advice that was ringing in the ears of Messrs. Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, Dylan and Young’s at the time they informed their respective authority figures that they were hitting the highway. They had reached the point where the thought of more school and a 9-5 day job afterwards was just not going to cut it for them.

I believe there is a little Woody Guthrie in all of us. Jump a box car and ride, destination unknown. When I was in my early-mid teens, I used to hike the train tracks with my friends.  We explored all sorts of places along those rails, from ponds, to streams to wetlands, to large swaths of forest, with not a developed property in site.  Most of our travels never ventured beyond the first road overpass, about 3 miles down, but there was one year when we would see how far we could go along those rails, never knowing just where they would lead us. Each time we took it a bit farther, finding ourselves hiking to a second, and then a third overpass. That 3^rd overpass was about 10 miles from home. Foreign woods. Foreign surroundings (if you have ever seen the movie “Stand by Me” you can get a hint of what that experience was like). A knee-jerk take on why we did this would be that we were simply scoping out our fascination with the unknown. Very true, but the deeper angle on it was that we were subconsciously beginning the process of breaking away from the home nest and spreading our wings.

At the age of 23, I would take that wanderlust quite a bit further, backpacking across Europe for a summer with my good friend, Bob Mainguy. I worked three jobs to save for that trip, a good portion of which went to airfare and a Eurail pass.  I recall my last evening at one of those jobs (bartending). The owner, who rarely spoke to the staff (other than management), approached me and said, “I heard you are leaving us to travel Europe”.  After I confirmed this, he said something I’ll never forget (which I paraphrase here): “I am a rich man because I focused on making money when I was your age, but deep down, I wish I did what you are doing. Godspeed”.  I was floored. That admission has resonated with me all my life and has factored significantly into how I have parented my children.

Bob and I covered a lot of European ground that summer of ’86, from the top of Norway to the bottom of Spain and Portugal.  We lived on a shoestring budget, and often found ourselves resting our heads for the night in train stations, on park benches, or on sandy beaches. And yet, we were free. About as free as one can be, I would think.  Such freedom can set your mind off in new directions.  I recall near the end of the trip, we were in Ireland (Eurail included ferry service), hiking along the ocean-side cliffs of the Dingle Peninsula, when out of the blue I thought to ask Bob a rather deep question: In the future how would he want to be remembered by his children and his grandchildren? Bob was not quite ready for this, as one would expect considering that he was not even a husband yet, never mind a father or grandfather. And so, he gave a somewhat standard reply related to securing a legacy for being wealthy and wise. 

Alas, I was looking for something more profound. Something I couldn’t really grasp myself.  Something of the spiritual nature that connected me with what we had been experiencing over the prior months on that great journey of ours.  Looking back, it was all about the freedom we were immersed in at the time. I’m thinking it was similar to how the Beatles felt in Hamburg before fame and fortune took over.  I wanted to capture that feeling and cork it in a bottle, and then if a grandchild in the future were curious about me, all they would have to do would be to uncork that bottle and breath in the contents.  It was one of the first moments when I felt that anything was possible.  I still feel that way.

Side note: Recently, I asked a deeply spiritual friend of mine if seeking a legacy equated to a moral quest or conversely, was it being too self-centered? (I was struggling at the time with shifting sands in the workplace). He basically replied that it’s all in the motivation behind that quest. Good answer! I had a feeling that was the case. Seeking a legacy is not necessarily something that should be lumped with negative traits such as pride, avarice, or envy. If the end game is a just one, that drive from within can actually make you a better person.

In their Hamburg, Germany days, the Beatles were near destitute, but they were free. John Lennon has been quoted as saying this was the period when the band was performing at their rock and roll best.  They were also very confident, as was Bob Dylan and Neil Young in their early years, when they did not have a pot to piss in. This week, listening to Anthology 1 for the first time, I was pulled in, taken by how solid and loose the Beatles already sounded in their fledgling years, when they were mostly covering material by other musicians.  Truthfully, I thought I’d be glossing over this album and moving on swiftly to later Anthology series - which cover their “Fab” years and beyond - to find something to write about. But I kept listening and repeating again and again.

In some of the selections (over 30 in all) the Beatles sound like The Band when they backed up Bob Dylan in ’66 (at the time they were known as the Hawks). The Beatles solid rock sound was 6 years earlier then that famous Dylan “going-electric” tour. It was when rock music was still in its infancy. That’s pretty cutting edge stuff. And so, I take back anything I’ve ever said about the Beatles not being as gifted of a live act as some of the other bands I love.  I just had to go back prior to “Love Me Do” - their first record-contract cut in 1962 - back before all the mop-top madness set in. It’s some quality music you hear from those earliest years. That’s what endless hours of performing in Hamburg did for the Beatles.  They came back to Liverpool a well-tuned machine and quickly learned that no other band could touch them.  Soon enough the word was spreading like wildfire, and long lines would be forming out the door to see the Beatles in places like the Cavern Club.

As another great songwriter, Kris Kristofferson once exclaimed, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose”.  That’s one way to look at it.  Regardless, it’s a lofty state of mind we all strive for, whether we realize it or not. John Lennon tapped back into that state of mind in the late 70s, singing on a demo tape the lyrics to a new number he was formulating at that time: “Free as a Bird”.  Much later - 14 years after Lennon’s death to be precise - the three remaining Beatles received a copy of that recording from Yoko Ono, and used it to rally their pooled talents, putting a final stamp on the foursome’s collective legacy ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODIvONHPqpk ). This song is the first one you hear on Anthology 1, before the earliest of recorded Beatles music kicks in.  An end-as-beginning sort of thing. A connecting of the freedom dots.

I like to imagine that Paul, George and Ringo received that demo from Yoko in a bottle, which was only accessible by first uncorking and then breathing in.

- Pete

p.s. Challenge: How many Beatles songs can you reference in the "Free as a Bird" video? No cheating!