How Ringo Starr made the Beatles
Ringo Starr left the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s Rishikesh ashram earlier than his bandmates in 1968 – as might be expected from a ring-wearing dandy who many would assume was the least spiritual of all the Beatles. He had found meals at the ashram difficult, not because he was a Liverpudlian naïf abroad, but because a childhood of serious ill health had left his insides in a delicate state. Plus, his wife Maureen hated the insects. After less than a fortnight, they were out.
Starr was the band’s everyman, a seasoned pro sent aloft into stratospheric fame where his ready grin and quick wit made him an easy favourite Fab. And yet – in one of the revelations of Tom Doyle’s thoroughly researched book – it turns out that his habitual “peace and love” refrain isn’t just some rote catchphrase. It runs deeper. In recent years, since undergoing rehab in 1988, Starr has become a paragon of clean living, regularly snacking on seeds and, allegedly, smelling of kale. Crucially, he has said that he still treasures the personal mantra for meditation that the Maharishi gave him all those years ago.
Doyle’s portrait doesn’t exactly dismantle the public perception of the Beatles’ drummer, now 85, but reappraisals do come in this wide-ranging biography. Starr is, at once, beloved by Beatles fans for his charm, and routinely disdained by others for not being the songwriting equal of his colleagues. It’s true: he probably was a light entertainer trapped inside a late-Sixties revolutionary cultural force. But Starr was as witty as the other three, and more diplomatically inclined. And nicer to Yoko Ono.
As the pile of books and media about the 20th century’s most famous sons only grows – the multi-media Anthology project is being reissued and embellished in the coming month – Mojo writer and Paul McCartney biographer Doyle seeks to tease out the lesser-known stories from Starr’s extraordinary life – and to spotlight the occasions where he was crucial to the band’s dynamic. Doyle’s romp through Starr’s often bizarre post-Beatles career leads you to conclude that the past is another country, and incomprehensible quality control choices are made there.
Source: Kitty Empire/observer.co.uk
