"They Write Songs in Their Sleep!" - The Beatles Reveal Their Shocking Songwriting Secrets
The Fab Four's John Lennon and Paul McCartney discuss their unconventional approach to hitting the charts, their German adventures, and backing a stripper
Liverpool's hottest band claim to have written nearly 100 songs, with dozens more "coming in dreams"
The group spent Christmas in Hamburg playing to packed houses - their fifth visit to the German port city
Little Richard mistakes them for "a colored group from back home" after hearing their R&B-influenced sound
The dingy basement of the Cavern Club smells of stale beer and cigarette smoke when I meet John Lennon and Paul McCartney on a grey Sunday afternoon in Liverpool. The pair have just returned from their fifth stint in Hamburg, where they've been honing their craft in the seedy clubs of the Reeperbahn. Their latest single, "Please Please Me", has just crashed into the charts at number 17, and there's a palpable buzz about these lads from Liverpool.
"We write songs in our sleep," Lennon declares with characteristic cheek, lighting up his umpteenth cigarette of the day. "Sometimes Paul rings me up at three in the morning with a melody. It's bloody annoying, actually." McCartney, the more diplomatic of the two, shoots his bandmate a knowing look.
"John's exaggerating, but not by much," he explains, fidgeting with a bass string that needs changing. "We've got nearly a hundred songs up our sleeves, and we're writing all the time. Sometimes we just sit down with our guitars and hammer something out. If we think it's any good, we'll record it on George's dad's tape recorder and send it off to someone."
The "someone" in question could be any number of artists. The Beatles, it seems, are becoming something of a songwriting factory for other performers. They've just penned a number called "Misery" for Helen Shapiro, though McCartney is quick to defend its upbeat credentials. "It's not as miserable as it sounds," he insists. "We think Helen will do a fantastic job with it."
Their German adventures have clearly left an impression. The band spent Christmas in Hamburg, playing marathon sets in clubs where the audience demands nothing less than total commitment. "You can't get away with being rubbish in Hamburg," Lennon says, a hint of pride in his voice. "The Germans will eat you alive if you're not up to scratch. We learned more in one month there than we did in a year playing church halls in Liverpool."
That education shows in their sound, which has caught the attention of some impressive admirers. Little Richard, the architect of rock and roll himself, recently proclaimed that he'd mistaken them for "a colored group from back home" when he first heard them play. "That's the highest compliment we could get," McCartney beams. "We've always tried to capture that American R&B sound, but with our own twist."
The conversation turns to their latest single, "Please Please Me", which is rapidly climbing the charts. "We tried to make it simple," Lennon explains, though his definition of simple might differ from most. "Some of our earlier stuff was a bit way-out. This time we aimed straight for the charts." When I suggest this might be seen as selling out, he fixes me with a stern look. "Writing a good pop song is harder than being weird. Anyone can be weird."
Their recording manager, George Martin, has become something of a father figure to the group. "George gets us," McCartney says. "He understands that we're not just trying to make hit records - we're trying to make something new." Lennon interjects: "Though we wouldn't mind the hits, mind you."
The interview is briefly interrupted by the arrival of their manager, Brian Epstein, immaculately dressed as always. He's carrying a stack of booking forms - the band are about to embark on a tour with Helen Shapiro. "Brian's transformed us," McCartney admits after Epstein leaves. "We used to show up on stage in leather and jeans, looking like teddy boys. Now we wear suits and bow to the audience."
"The bowing was my idea," Lennon claims, though McCartney's raised eyebrow suggests otherwise.
As our conversation winds down, I ask about their earlier days providing backing music for a stripper named Janice in a Liverpool nightclub. Rather than embarrassment, the memory draws raucous laughter. "We had to play the same song over and over," McCartney recalls. "By the end of the night, we'd turned it into this weird jazz thing just to keep ourselves entertained."
"The audience didn't notice," Lennon adds. "They weren't exactly there for the music."
This ability to find humour in their past suggests they won't let their current success go to their heads. Yet there's an undeniable sense that these four lads from Liverpool are on the verge of something bigger than even they realise. Their sound - a unique fusion of American R&B, rock and roll, and something indefinably British - feels like the future.
As I pack up my notebook, Lennon is already strumming a new melody on his guitar. "That's number 101," he says with a grin. "Though it might need some work." McCartney is instantly drawn to the sound, and within moments they're deep in discussion about chord changes and middle eights, oblivious to everything else around them.
Looking at them now, hunched over their guitars in the dim light of the Cavern, it's clear that whether they're playing for strippers in Liverpool or packed houses in Hamburg, writing hits for themselves or others, The Beatles are, above all else, musicians to their core. Their current chart success might please-please them, but one suspects it's just the beginning of a much longer journey.
Just don't call them at three in the morning with a new melody. Unless, of course, it's a hit.
The original interview was conducted by Alan Smith for the New Musical Express (NME) and published on February 1st, 1963. This timing is particularly significant as it captures the Beatles at a crucial early stage in their career - just after the release of "Please Please Me", which had entered the British charts at number 17. The interview itself took place in Liverpool, where Smith spoke with John Lennon and Paul McCartney fresh from their fifth stint performing in Hamburg.
The context is important: this is one of the earliest Beatles interviews, occurring before they had achieved their first number one single. "Love Me Do" had been their first hit, and "Please Please Me" would soon become their first chart-topper, though this wasn't yet known at the time of publication.
The interview focuses primarily on their songwriting process, with Paul McCartney revealing they had "nearly a hundred" songs written, including material they were writing for other artists. Specifically, they mention writing "Misery" for Helen Shapiro and an unnamed song for Duffy Power. The piece also touches on their success in Germany and their growing reputation in Northern England, including an interesting observation from Little Richard comparing their sound to American R&B groups.
The readership would have been primarily young music fans who read the NME, which was one of Britain's leading music papers at the time. In 1963, the NME was particularly important in breaking new acts and was widely read by teenagers and young adults interested in the emerging British beat music scene. The paper was sold nationwide but had particular strength in urban areas where the new music scene was strongest.
The interview's tone is notably optimistic about the Beatles' prospects but couldn't possibly predict their imminent explosion into global superstardom. The casual mention of their performing as backing musicians for a stripper named Janice in a Liverpool nightclub shows how recently they had been working in the less glamorous end of the entertainment business.
Producer George Martin makes a brief appearance in the piece through a quote about the band's sense of humour, demonstrating the growing relationship between the producer and the group that would prove so crucial to their future success.
For historical context, this interview stands as a snapshot of the Beatles just before they achieved the massive success that would define the rest of the 1960s, capturing them at the moment when they were transitioning from local Liverpool favourites to national stars.