Get back

Last year I watched the TV series, The Beatles : The Get Back Sessions. This was where the director, Peter Jackson, took some footage filmed in 1969 that was used for a TV documentary in 1970 and turned it into a three part documentary TV series. Looking at it with today’s eyes, I felt it was a lesson in group dynamics as well as a study in creativity.

My first observation was how insane it was to invite cameras in to capture your creative process. The band had put themselves under huge pressure to write, record and rehearse a new album of songs in a period of three weeks, all while being scrutinised by a documentary film crew and working in a film studio, not a recording studio. The first week was a struggle: the tensions between the band members were obvious and the acoustics of the film studio were not right for a band.

Lesson: A safe and familiar environment is important.

Lesson: Putting yourself under undue pressure can stifle creativity.

Watching the band take pieces of songs and play with them was fascinating. These are songs we know very well now, but here they were in their infant stage: a few lyrics scratched on paper, a verse, half a chorus. Watching the band play with these ideas, grow them, refine them, seeing the songs we now know so well start to emerge.

I somehow drew some comfort that The Long and Winding Road and Get Back did not spring fully formed from Paul McCartney’s head but had to be kicked around and reshaped several times.

Lesson: Sometimes you have to chase an idea a long way down a blind alley before realising it’s wrong. Don’t see it as wasted effort, see it as part of the creative process.

There were lots of scenes of the band jamming bits of their own earlier songs and bits of other people’s songs, blues, early rock’n’roll, music hall numbers. It was as if they didn’t know what to do next, so they played something to fill the time until the next idea came along.

Lesson: Sometimes playing around is what leads to new ideas.

Lesson: If you do nothing, you create nothing. Do something.

In the early stages of the filming, John or Paul (I forget who) brought in their old songwriting notes, songs that were half formed maybe ten years ago but had been put aside. You see the band working through some of these song pieces and turning them into something new.

Lesson: sometimes going back through your old material will produce new ideas when you look at them again.

The documentary also ground home the reality of doing take after take of the same song to get ‘the one’. Especially with Paul’s songs, as he had a ‘just so’ picture in his mind of how things should sound. You could see the band roll their eyes as Paul says, “Let’s go again.” The documentary ends with the band playing The Long and Winding Road in the studio. The caption underneath tells the viewer that this is the take that appears on the album Let It Be. As the final notes fade away, three band members say, “That was the one.” Paul says, “I think we can do one more.”

Lesson: There is a point when something is done and you have to admit it’s done.

In addition to the creative lessons, I also enjoyed watching the interactions of the band members. These four men had been a unit for several years. They’d gone from working class Liverpool to international fame and wealth and all the pressure that came with that. Here they were, only in their late 20s, and you could see they were tired. You could sense the difference of attitudes, how people behaved, who they brought with them, even down to who turns up first, who turns up last, who drove themselves to the studio, who got dropped off by a chauffeur.

Paul came in like the substitute geography teacher with a briefcase of song ideas. It’s like he is trying to discipline and get a class of disobedient children interested in his subject (but failing).

John appeared to be in a state of anxiety, almost unable to speak for the first week. (A friend of mine interpreted this as “off his head on drugs”). Considering I always through he was the mouthy one he is remarkably quiet. Yoko Ono sits by his side, providing some kind of emotional support. John repeatedly plays the opening lines from Help! like he’s trying to send a message he can’t articulate in any other way.

George also has support people. Sitting in the corner of the film studio are some Hare Krishnas in their orange robes. “They’re here for George,” someone says. No one asks why.

Poor George, a fine songwriter in his own right, but he just happens to be in a band with the songwriting powerhouse that is Lennon-McCartney. You see George trying to propose his songs. You Paul’s face at that suggestion.

Ringo is not particularly loquacious but becomes increasingly silent as the film goes on. But the camera loves him. There are many shots of him looking at the camera with his sad blue eyes like a lost child (with a moustache).

There were some surprises. At one point George says “I’m leaving,” and walks out. No one says “What?” No one tries to stop him. I think it was John who noticed and said, “I think George just quit the Beatles.”

“What?” said Paul, not looking particularly upset or worried.

(Spoiler alert – John and Paul manage to talk him back into the band.)

Another surprise was when the band needed some piece of equipment. The management says no, it’s too expensive.

“But you got one for the Beach Boys,” says Paul.

“Yes, but they’re American.”

Paul’s face at this reply was also great to see. I don’t think he would be good at poker. (It turned out George had the piece of equipment they needed in his home studio so they were able to send out a van to collect it, but it took time. Is that another lesson? Get your equipment in place before starting to create.)

Things improved when the band left the film studio for Apple studios in central London. The area was much smaller and more cramped and just when you think tensions between band members are going to get serious, in comes Billy Preston.

Billy Preston was someone they knew from their early days playing in Hamburg, a long term friend of the band and a keyboard player, who turned up just as the band realised their eight hands were not enough, they needed a keyboard player as well. Billy comes into the studio and the mood changes. Everyone relaxes just a little. Maybe it was the memories Billy brought with him, memories of the simpler, earlier days in Hamburg.

The climax of the show was the concert on the roof. It’s a freezing cold January day. The band haven’t played live together for some years. You see the doubt and excitement as they come out and pick up their instruments. You see them become a unit once again, years of performing together clicking into place. Smiles on faces, they start to enjoy themselves. So do you. But at the same time you feel sad, because you know at some point two policemen will appear on the roof and stop the show and that is the end of the Beatles’ last concert.

Is that the real lesson? Seize the moment, it could all be gone so suddenly. And when it’s gone, it’s not something you can Get Back.