mostly david ephgrave

I was sad to hear of the death of Burt Bacharach last week. There's little I can say about his music that someone else won't have said before, and no doubt better. To have had a career that spans so many decades is already extraordinary before you even consider the number of songs he wrote and how many live rent-free in the public consciousness. Even his simpler songs, such as Baby It's You or Magic Moments, have a depth that betrays their simplicity; listen to John Lennon's rendition of the former on The Beatles' first album, Please Please Me, and its hits you straight in the heart. Who cares that he was a twenty-two-year-old singing through a cold that day? The emotional pull of his vocal still gets you. It's no wonder that Bacharach started his career as a jazz pianist. So many of his songs achieve the feat of sounding both musically intricate and effortless. Dropped beats and unusual chords abound without confusing the ear or throwing you off. It's class...

Tonight, I watched Paul McCartney & Paul Muldoon discuss their new book 'The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present' with journalist Samira Ahmed at Royal Festival Hall. A picture from tonight’s show, courtesy of Macca’s Instagram.  While I've visited the iconic venue several times in the interim, the last show I saw there was Brian Wilson's live premiere of the lost Beach Boys album 'Smile' in 2004. Something about 1960s bassists clearly gets me out of the house. Tonight's show was very different but no less entertaining. Macca was engaging and happy to let the conversation flow where it went, which included the odd diversion from his stock responses. The chat was more Beatle-heavy than I'd have liked, but that's just me. And being a former member of the world's biggest band does tend to overshadow things. Tonight was the first show I've attended since the pandemic hit, besides September's Mostly Comedy obviously. I wore my mask on public trans...

Today's birthday's officially known as "The one before forty"; shit it. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it; I don't know where the time's gone. My thirtieth (which I spent on stage in the Netherlands, having Happy Birthday sung to me by a theatre-full of Dutch people who went into an inexplicable mass-chant afterwards) seems like only yesterday. And now I'm a year away from achieving the lifespan of John Lennon. Part of the problem with being an actor is for your first few jobs you're probably the youngest person in the cast, so you feel the need to age up. Then before you know it, you're somewhere in the oldest 25%. As long as I can spend the rest of my career cast in shows about the elderly, I can maintain the illusion of youth (though if my over-washed lockdown hands are anything to go by, I'll be making my living as an octagenarian hand-double). I even scuppered myself by choosing Glyn as my double act partner as he...

The emotional weight of this lesser-known Beatles b-side far surpasses its familiarity. When summarising all of his songs many years later, John Lennon dismissed this as a poor man's rewrite of This Boy, but to say that is to do the number a massive discredit. I'd say it knocks that song out of the park, and where This Boy's a twee slice of early-Sixties' teenage doo-wop, Yes it Is is a mournful, adult reflection of frustration and loss; the suggestion it could be about John's mum (who died following a road accident when he was a teenager) is more than likely. Whatever you think of the song, the vocal performance is outstanding, with John, Paul and George's voices blending as no-one else could. How they managed to get such a wonderful sound while standing around one mic is extraordinary. This is even more striking when you consider how early in their recording career it was and is proof that talent can't be masked by primitive technology; I dread to th...

This evening, I treated myself to a from-the-beginning-to-the-end listen of the newly remixed fiftieth anniversary edition of the White Album (that no-one on the planet refers to by its real name ‘The Beatles’). Only the other day, it occurred to me why the band might have decided to make this specific record eponymously-titled; the album they released the year before was essentially put out under a pseudonym - Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band - to give them freedom to step outside (love) of their perceived identity and try new ideas, so in that spirit, it makes sense that they’d want to make the album that followed, which was essentially back-to-basics (as far as any Beatles project was) - more firmly-rooted in their own brand again. That said, it’s a shame they couldn’t go with the working title ‘A Doll’s House’ (which was nabbed by the prog band Family) as that would have reflected the eclectic tracklist perfectly. One thing returning to the...

Forty-nine years ago today, The Beatles stepped onto the roof of the Apple building on Savile Row for their last ever live performance - which was remarkably strong considering the circumstances - and while they were up there for less than an hour, they recorded two of my favourite songs of all time. One of them, I’veGot a Feeling , I’ve discussed here before, but tonight I’d like to sing the praises of their ode to the vulnerability of a new relationship; the soulful and searingly honest Don’t Let Me Down. What makes it work so well for me is John and Paul’s voices, which fit together perfectly and give the song its weight; that a cappella 5/4 bar that falls at the beginning of each phrase in the verse is a stroke of compositional genius that shouldn’t pass unnoticed as it does, yet somehow subliminally reinforces the risk the protagonist has put themselves under by revealing how much they need that other person, plus the way the vocals weave together emphasises...

If the rumours are true and Ringo Starr is about to be knighted, will he now be known to Americans as Sir Topham Hatt? (The answer’s no.) Ringo’s a complex character to consider, as it’s hard to settle on an opinion about him. For one, I would argue - going completely against the tired old cliché - that he’s a vastly underrated drummer and, as such, the most disrespected Beatle; wherever you stand on John, Paul or George either musically or personally, it would be very hard to deny their impact on popular culture, yet for some reason, Ringo’s often seen as the Beatles’ running joke; the lucky guy who entered the movie seconds before the band got famous, to be dragged along for the ride. Anyone who knows more than the Beatle-basics would tell you that’s nonsense; Paul regularly states in interviews that it wasn’t until Ringo sat behind the kit that their sound was complete and he knew they were onto something special. He’s one of rock’s most...

Today marks the 37 th anniversary of John Lennon's assassination, which is almost as long as he lived, which I find difficult to fathom. For someone like me, who was born a few months after Lennon died, it’s almost hard to reckon with the fact he ever existed, as his icon-like status practically overwhelms the actual person; the image of John with long hair and granny glasses, or Beatlemania John, or moustachioed Sgt. Pepper John, or 1980 New York City John is as ingrained in the public’s consciousness as the likes of Abraham Lincoln, Charlie Chaplin, Bob Marley or - dare I say it - Adolf Hitler. John's infamous “We’re more popular than Jesus now” mid-60s comment has an unexpectedly canny after-taste, which his untimely death only served to reiterate; nearly wiping out his more unpleasant characteristics in favour of an elevated, whitewashed version. It may be different if you’re older than me or you ever saw him in person, but it has always felt strange to have b...

I booked my train tickets for Edinburgh today, so it must be happening. I also managed to fit in listening to the first three parts of BBC Radio 2’s four-part series ‘Paul Merton’s Beatles’ around working on my show; I wonder if you can guess what band the programme was about? More specifically, it's built around the fictional premise that - after putting aside their business differences - The Beatles briefly reformed in 1974 to release a new album (called ‘All Made Up’) and stage a reunion concert. The first two episodes consist of solo live performances from John, Paul, George and Ringo that have been edited together to sound like a single gig (with Merton supplying the excitable commentary of a journalistic witness) and the final two are built around studio recordings from the post-Fab Four that have been collated to sound like the album the group might have made. Paul Merton is famously a big Beatles fan so I knew it was likely to ...

While my favourite Beatles song changes with my mood - and there’s inevitably so much great material to choose from - one I always come back to for its energy and excitement, is the rooftop concert highlight I’ve Got a Feeling. It’s just so fucking robust. Anyone who doubts the band could rock need only turn to nearly every version in existence, from the footage and outtakes from the film Let it Be to the various official releases, to be put right. The swagger of John & Paul's vocals, particularly when they sing in counterpoint, is joyous, and a clear indicator that even when the group were falling apart, they were still the best. Paul’s voice in the middle eight is ridiculously high, yet still sounds effortless, and is one of so many examples of his vocal versatility. The fact he’d regularly commit takes to tape on the same day as Let it Be and The Long and Winding Road is madness. It's illustrative of how well Lennon & McC...

I never cease to be surprised and amazed by just how good The Beatles were; an opinion that was firmly reiterated and refreshed last night, when watching the new film documenting their touring years, 'Eight Days a Week'. Their story is something I grew up with, studying and obsessing over it since the age of ten. They were a source of comfort and inspiration to me as an only-child, like four friends or brothers I could look up to and turn to whenever I needed them. They made me want to be a musician, songwriter and - indirectly - a comedian, thanks to their natural knack for humour and the fact they seemed to be having so much fun. While I’ve always been more attuned to their later material, I have a lot of respect for their early stuff as well, plus a sense of incredulousness at how quickly they matured and grew. One thing that’s often overlooked, though, is their ability as a live act, particularly when considering their primitive equipme...

In times of trouble, I remember John Lennon was Frank from Everybody Loves Raymond's Best Man and my mood is lifted.  Even John looks surprised to be there. There's something about the whole situation that verges on incongruous. He couldn't look more like Lennon 'The Legend' that no-one should have been in close contact with, let alone entrusting their wedding rings to; if anything, Ringo would have been the more obvious choice. Who conducted the ceremony? Idi Amin?  While I consider myself something of a Beatles aficionado, I had absolutely no knowledge of this trivia, until my wife stumbled across the it and told me it was the case. There's something pleasing about the fact these two people whose work I enjoy moved in the same circles. If only Frank (A.K.A. Peter Boyle) had truly been married to Marie. The only tidbit to rival this is the fact the murderer in the Hitchcock classic Rear Window was the same actor who played Perry Mason; sometimes, t...

I was sad to wake to the news that George Martin passed away this morning. His cultural significance is incalculable, thanks to his work with The Beatles, not to mention everything else. Without him, John, Paul, George and Ringo would have been a completely different and less successful animal (or shoul d that say ' insect ' ?). Not only was he bold enough to take a chance on a band everyone else had turned down, p urely because he liked their personalit y ; he was also prepared to nurture their burgeoning, fledgling talent; gently nudging them along, realising and stoking their potential; creating incredible sonic landscapes with the most limited technology. His ear for production and arrangement was astounding. What he achieved with The Beatles in their seven-year recording career defies belief. If I were talking about anyone else, this would be hyperbole, but not with him. The examples of his crisp ability are endless, from the stark, concise non-sentimental s...

It was inevitable that I’d briefly experiment with a tache when I shaved off my beard this morning. I looked like a gimp, as you’d expect. Thankfully, no-one saw me, as I was alone in the bathroom at the time (a place where I seldom have an audience). I hadn’t intended to remove the beard at first, just tidy it up, until intrigue got the better of me; after a while, you start to wonder what’s lurking beneath. In my case, it was just my face, which was grimly predictable. I’m could never pull off a moustache (not literally), even as a Movember-inspired novelty; I just don’t get the below-nose coverage. Not that they’re a good look, unless you’re Selleck, Boycie or a Pepper-era Lennon. That's the only lip-warmer I’d flirt with, if Rufus Hound hadn’t got there first. In fact, I tried it today. I’ll let you into a secret: it looked shit.

This poll is rigged. At least, I think it is. It’s hard to work out. Would a vote for Ringo be a vote for Ringo, or a block vote for the rest? If so, that's not democracy. It’s like a magician misdirecting you into thinking you’ve chosen a card of your own free will. It’s a ballot worthy of Machiavelli himself. (How’s that for a reference?) I feel sorry for Ringo to a point. He gets stick for his drumming (unintentional pun) for no reason. It’s a cliché in and of itself, hence the poll. People tend to criticise his ability out of context. They forget that when it comes to their live work, he couldn’t hear the rest of the band for the fans’ screaming. His playing, like the other Beatles’, matured at an alarming rate. Pick a track from each year of their career at random and you’ll hear it. As Lennon, McCartney and Harrison’s writing became deeper and more soulful, so did Starr’s drum-work. Listen to his fills on A Day in the Life and ...

Last night, I had a very bizarre but exciting dream (don’t worry, it wasn’t sexual). I dreamt that I had been secretly drafted in to replace Paul McCartney in The Beatles. The swap was top secret. Not even John, George or Ringo knew anything about it. Presumably, my subconscious assumed that none of the Fab Four were particularly observant. The only person that was in on it was their producer, George Martin – who took me to one side when the others weren’t looking and congratulated me on a sterling effort. The only thing that Sir George was unhappy with was my hairstyle, which was exactly the same as it is in real life. He told me to brush it forward. I took his advice, though it wasn’t quite long enough to pull the style off. (Trust my subconscious to put such a mundane fly in the ointment.) It was a bit like Quantum Leap, only without Dean Stockwell cropping up to smoke a cigar and fiddle with his little electrical device . Most ...

I was very sad to hear of the passing of Phil Everly this morning. The Everly Brothers pretty much originated close harmony singing in popular music; without them, there would have been no Beatles, no Beach Boys and no Simon & Garfunkel. Their music was beautifully constructed, with voices that blended so perfectly that if it wasn’t for the musical interval between them, you’d be forgiven for thinking they were one. They were contemporaries of Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison, touring extensively with them both. Their influence on each other was huge: just listen to Buddy’s ‘Listen to Me’ and ‘Words of Love’, for example; you could easily mistake it for the Everlys. It was a time of cross-promoting between artists, with both Buddy and Roy actively writing for the duo. Phil and Don also supplied the distinctive “Dum, dum, dum, dum-me-doo-wah” that helped make Orbison’s ‘Only The Lonely’ such a big hit.  The two brothers and Buddy were exceptionally close. Phil was eve...

Yesterday, I had my own personal ‘Yesterday Moment’. (The second yesterday above refers to the Beatles song, Yesterday; the first to when the moment took place. Have I made my meaning any clearer? Probably not.) It’s fairly well known that the song came to Paul McCartney in a dream. He awoke in the bedroom of his girlfriend Jane Asher’s house with the melody fully-formed in his head. He crept over to the piano (carefully negotiating his way past all of the cake-baking equipment) and worked out the chords to accompany it. Yesterday, the same thing happened to me (minus the house-proud redhead). While I was sleeping, a brand new song began forming itself in my mind. My only problem was that when I woke up I couldn’t remember how the bloody thing went. This isn’t the first time this has happened. It’s very frustrating: why can’t my brain have some sort of tape recorder incorporated into it. What if Macca had had a similar probl...

"So this is Christmas - and what have you done?" I'll tell you what I've done, John: I've written this. Not that you'd care; you've probably got plenty of things to busy yourself with in the festive afterlife, rather than bothering with the ramblings of a person that you've never met.   (NB. I stuck the word 'festive' in front of the word 'afterlife' to make this blog more Christmassy.) This would also be an unfamiliar format; sadly, you missed out on the internet. Yoko is pretty au fait with it, though; she's even on Twitter (something that I've already covered here ). I've cheated a little bit with today's post, if I'm honest; despite uploading it on Christmas Day, I'd written it the day before. I'm sure this is allowed: even the Queen pre-records her Christmas message.  This does come with an element of risk. What if a major, catastrophic event occurs on Christmas morning, to...

Recently I’ve started paying more attention to the tweets of Yoko Ono – and I’m starting to wonder if she’s taking the piss. I understand that she’s a conceptual artist and therefore her work doesn’t follow the same rigidity of structure as traditional art: it’s more about the thought behind each piece than the aesthetic result. Some of her ideas are beautiful in their simplicity: a good example is the card she gave to John Lennon on their first meeting at the Indica Gallery in 1966, which simply said “Breathe”. He couldn't really argue with that. When it comes to her Twitter posts, though, I'm a little dubious.  Yoko’s tweets are more than likely to contain the buzz-words ‘sky’, ‘sun’, ‘rain’ and ‘cry’ – and nine times out of ten, they tell you to bury something. It’s like a one-woman attempt to create a time-capsule resurgence.   It’s similar to those websites that generate spoof Daily Mail headline...