The first record I ever owned was the Nowhere Man EP. It must have been around 67/68, and I would have been 9 or 10 years old. Probably bought for me by my mum as I doubt that I'd have had the necessary funds at the time! It was shortly followed by my first LP: A Hard Days Night. I remember washing a lot of cars for that one. They were both played to death on our old Dansette in the front room of our house in London.
That summer, as my car cleaning enterprise gained momentum, so my EP collection grew. Magical Mystery Tour was next - I just had to have one of those lovely gatefold sleeves with the gloriously colourful cover. The film had been shown on TV the previous Boxing Day. It was in black and white, but it didn't matter; the music had all the colour you needed.
As the months rolled by, my previous obsession with Chelsea Football Club took a back seat as I embraced everything Fab. Swinging London was in full flow, England had won the World Cup in 66, and everything was right with the world.
My collection grew to staggering proportions (for a ten year old, that is!). EP's and singles littered the floor around the record player, LP's stacked neatly in the corner.
Then one day in 1970 the world changed forever. Paul McCartney announced that he was leaving the group and there would be no more Beatles. How could he do this to me? For as long as I could remember The Beatles had been in my life. Always. The one constant in a constantly changing young life. I would never forgive him. I briefly entertained the idea of writing him a letter to explain my situation - shouldn't he reconsider? Talk it over with the lads? Work things out? But I couldn't find anybody that new his address, so my letter went unposted.
As the 70's moved on and puberty took it's hold, my interest waned. Girls were no longer seen as 'The Enemy'. I eventually forgave Paul, and even bought some of his records.
In the early 90's I was lucky enough to meet Paul. I was living in Bath and Linda had an exhibition at the Royal Photographic Society, to which I was invited to the opening. I told him how in 1970 he'd ruined my life. He shook my hand and signed my copy of A Hard Days Night. It's one of only a few vinyl's that I still own - in a frame on the wall of my study,looking over me as I write this.
The sun is shining, there's a new Beatles record on the way, and everything's right with the world.
Love is all you need.
Paul. 19 November 2006
