From the Inside Flap
(Excerpt from The Beatle Who Vanished)The Call"The call, it took only the routine ring of the telephone to turn Jimmie Nicol's worldupside down. It came out of the blue, born of immense urgency. It was neither a fluke nora "lucky break" as some have described that fateful day of Wednesday, June 3, 1964. Thecall had meaning on many levels. It came out of desperation, yet it was also a reward, aonce-in-a-lifetime opportunity that sprang from years of hard work, determination, fate,and musical dues-paying. For Jimmie Nicol, becoming one of the "go-to" drummers inLondon meant moving up from one band to the next, one recording session to another.He had mastered different musical styles from Rock and Big Band, to Ska and Trad Jazz.He had played every ballroom gig, radio show, and recording session offered to him sincethe late 1950s. Even Jimmie's hair played a role, as he had recently started growing it inthe famous "mop top" style. Nicol even had the right "look" to sit behind the mostfamous drum kit in the world."Hello, is Jimmie Nicol in please? This is George Martin calling." At first, it didnot seem these introductory words would have much impact on his life or everydayroutine. Martin, The Beatles' producer, had found Nicol hanging around his Barnes,West London home in the late morning with a friend. But why was he calling Nicoltoday? Certainly it couldn't be about The Beatles, since Nicol was well aware of theirpermanent drummer, Ringo Starr. Aside from The Beatles, George Martin had begun toproduce some of the other bands in manager Brian Epstein's stable of artists at the time.These included: Gerry and the Pacemakers, Cilla Black, and Billy J. Kramer. Nicollikely assumed Martin wanted to hire him to play drums on one of Epstein's other artists'recording sessions. Nicol's work as a session drummer on Pye and Decca recordings waswell known in London music circles at the time. Perhaps Martin wanted Jimmie to joinone of Epstein's groups? Meanwhile, nearby in Nicol's own neighborhood, Beatles manager Brian Epsteinwas facing the most serious crisis of The Beatles' exploding career. He had a problem somonumental that it threatened to economically devastate the band, dilute its fan base, anddestroy his master plan to take The Beatles worldwide. The schedule for June 3, 1964originally called for the group to pose for photos in the morning, followed by anafternoon and evening recording session at EMI Studios. The following day, June 4, thegroup would fly off on their first ever world tour, one that would feature them playinglive in Denmark, The Netherlands, Hong Kong, Australia, and New Zealand.This was not just any tour, but one that had been carefully planned for months,planned with the preparation and detail of a military campaign. Epstein believed thattouring was the most difficult part of his job, and it occupied most of his time andconcern. "I think traveling around and going around the world, making the arrangementsfor moving around, is the most difficult thing in managing the group, because you don'tknow what's going to happen,"1 said Epstein in an interview that seemed to foreshadowthe looming problem. The Beatles had already conquered the United Kingdom and theeastern seaboard of the United States by June of 1964. They held the top five chartpositions simultaneously on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 Singles Chart with their songs, IWant To Hold Your Hand; She Loves You; Please Please Me; Can't Buy Me Love; andTwist and Shout. Apprehension in The Beatles' climb to fame was weighingheavily as the clock ticked down to the world tour launch of the next day. "I hold myselfresponsible. It isn't the money that worries me," he recalled. "It is the failure; partlybecause of my youth; partly because of my background; and partly because of myprovincial origin."2 Their ambitious manager wanted to prove to himself he could be thefirst to have his pop group conquer no less than the entire world.The contracts for the shows were all signed; hotels, security and transportationwere reserved; records, concert programs and merchandise were stocked; and the ticketswere already selling out. There was no turning back. The media was ready to cover theirevery move, and now it seemed as if all of Epstein's plans were about to implode like thedemolition of a large skyscraper.The Beatles were posing for photographs at Prospect Studios in Barnes for aSaturday Evening Post session with photographer John Launois, when suddenly RingoStarr collapsed to the floor.3 Beatles' road manager Neil Aspinall witnessed the eventand recalls, "He collapsed during the photo session... I saw Ringosink to his knees."4 This event instantly threw The Beatles' world tour into serious doubtand panic, and their recording schedule that day into turmoil. Ringo was discreetlydeposited into the private patients' wing of Middlesex University College Hospital. Thediagnosis was tonsillitis and pharyingitis. Epstein knew he needed to find a replacement for Ringo Starr. He also knew he had to convince the other three Beatles to go along with the plan; and he needed to fulfill the multiple media, legal, and financial obligations of the world tour. Faced with the greatest crisis of his career thus far, Epstein had only a few hours to find a suitable replacement, or risk losing hundreds of thousands of dollars in concert fees, merchandise, publishing, and record revenues for his remarkable group. His challenge was daunting. Epstein had to find a drummer who "looked like a Beatle"; knew Ringo's parts to all the songs; fit into Ringo's stage suits (no time for a tailor); and could comport himself in a way that would not start rumors of a new Beatles' drummer. This was a tall order on such short notice!In 1964, concert contracts did not include cancellation or "out clauses" due to illness of a band member (standard in today's entertainment agreements). In other words, "the show must go on!" Furthermore, Epstein realized the risk to the band's reputation, image, and future popularity, due to cancellation. This was a time when pop stars had a very brief and unstable shelf life. Aside from the job of replacing Ringo with another drummer who could play thearrangements and looked the part of a Beatle, Epstein faced a more daunting task, one inwhich a greater showdown emerged. He knew his decision would affect the othermembers of the band. The Beatles, more than any of his other artists, were like four veryclose brothers. This was an issue of business vs. loyalty, and success vs. friendship.Within The Beatles' camp, there was a deep emotional split over Epstein'sinsistence on finding a substitute for Starr. Lead guitarist George Harrison had drawn aline in the sand; he flat out told Epstein that without Ringo, there would be no Beatles'tour. He would not participate. George Martin recalls the showdown andcomments, "George is a very loyal person. And he said, 'If Ringo's not part of the group,it's not The Beatles. And I don't see why we should do it. I'm not going to go'."6 PaulMcCartney remembers, "For some reason, we couldn't really cancel it. So, the idea cameup, we'll get a stand-in drummer."7Copyright © 2013 by Rock And Roll Detective®, LLCRock And Roll Detective®, is a registered trademark of Rock And Roll Detective,LLC
