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John Rickenbach |
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John Rickenbach |
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| I was born in Ohio at the end of January
1963, pretty much right as "Please Please Me" was climbing
the charts in the UK. So I literally grew up with the Beatles
story as a backdrop. Of course, in the 1960s I was mostly
concerned with riding my tricycle and eating Cocoa Puffs, not
listening to music. But not my older sisters - they were
huge Beatles fans, and were pretty much hooked from the Ed
Sullivan Show on. It took most of 1964 to wear my mom
down, but my sister Frieda eventually convinced her to buy Meet
the Beatles that following Christmas. There was no
turning back in my family after that. I was still in diapers. |
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My dad was in Vietnam all of 1966, but Frieda couldn't understand why my mom wouldn't let her go to the Beatles concert in nearby Cincinnati in August that year. Never mind she was only 10, couldn't drive, and my mom had five others to look after by herself. My sister never let that one go. (Give it up, Frieda.) |
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So as I graduated from drooling
to vague awareness by 1968 or so, the soundtrack was already
in my brain somehow. We lived in Germany from 1967 to '71
(Air Force dad), so I didn't really have any recollection of
the USA to that point. It was all just strict Teutonic
nuns in a German kindergarten, where I learned the true meaning
of discipline (thanks to Tante Ursel). Upstairs in the
convent lived some shadowy old crones crumpled over, who'd occasionally
pull back a curtain and scowl. My brother and I - along
with all our German friends like Jochen and Gabriele - called
them "die alte Hexe" ("the old witches")
out of both fear and respect. We were growing up in a real
live Grimm's fairy tale, where the children's books depicted
bad kids getting their thumbs cut off. To show respect
for our German hosts, my mom forbade us to use words like "Hitler"
and "Nazis" - not that we had any idea what those things
were - so of course, we said those words as much as possible.
Anything for a reaction. Retrospectively, one of the more interesting aspects of growing up in Germany was listening to the radio. We'd get Armed Forces Radio Network, Radio Luxembourg, BBC, and whatever the Germans were throwing in there for their idea of fun. That meant everything from American top 40, German beer hall music, Tom Jones, Greek folk singers, and of course, the Beatles. On records, my dad always liked Harry Belafonte, Peter Paul and Mary, plus Tom Lehrer comedy albums, while my mom had a thing for people like Ivan Rebroff (a Russian folk singer), or maybe Nana Mouskouri (a sort of Greek Barbra Streisand). But mostly, the Beatles were the fixture I remember hearing on the turntable, thanks to my older sisters. By the time I was really aware of the Beatles, my sisters had already bought all their LPs - the German label versions - and that's what I remember to this day. (The German "Help!" album on the Horzu label, for example, noted that the movie was called "Hi-Hi-Hilfe!") I just absorbed whatever was on, and there was always music. I think my favorite song of 1969 was "Tracy" by the Cuff Links. |
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| By the time I was old enough to think for
myself musically, the Beatles had broken up. But the possibility
of their reunion was a constant topic as I became a teenager,
and to me that always seemed like an elusive Holy Grail.
Wings, yeah fine; Lennon solo, sure okay - but I held out for
something I never really got to experience firsthand. As a cruel joke (it had to be a joke), my sister organized my brother Tom and me into something she called "The Boys in Concert", which just meant us singing Beatles songs out of a book, while wearing a red sash (him) and a green one (me). I was only 12, and very impressionable. I'm glad no photos of that exist. Thankfully it was all over once the voices changed, and the high notes became impossible to hit anymore. (Thanks, Paul.) By 1977, I was 14, old enough to scrounge together enough money from several weeks allowance to buy a record or two for myself. Could have bought Fleetwood Mac, or the Eagles, or KC and the Sunshine Band. That's what my friends were doing. But I bought Meet the Beatles. Seemed like a good place to start. This replaced the completely scratched and worn out copy of my sister's from 1964. But I was bummed it didn't have the Capitol rainbow label, just some lame orange label. (What was that all about?) But the music was the same as always, only...no scratches! So let's buy some more! And I did. My album collection soon took the form of basic Beatle. |
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A real milestone, I suppose, was when my friend Martin got his drivers license in 1978. For one, that meant we could skip out on Saturday 5 PM Mass without anybody knowing we didn't go. Along with Greg, I don't know how many times we'd drive Martin's van instead over to Beggar's Banquet, a small record store in Anaheim, to go through their bootlegs, looking for things no one else had. Live at the Star Club, the Decca tapes, unmarked albums with no labels with bad quality live recordings, you name it - Beggar's Banquet had things no one had even heard of. A whole new world. We got to know the owner pretty well, who used to tell us when he expected the cops to come and raid his bootleg collection - he'd tell us you'd better buy 'em while you can. So we did. |
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Martin ended up moving on to Elvis Costello (I still think This
Year's Model is one of the greatest albums ever), while Greg
dyed his hair yellow, embraced Black Flag and the Germs, and eventually
disappeared into the Ukraine, where he works for the State Department
even today.
But for me, it was always the Beatles. I think I liked the
idea they were a group of friends, who put an extraordinary effort
into everything they did. And it all came out great - better
than it ever could have as individuals. Coming from a big
family that moved a lot, and all over the world, with close ties
to nobody except each other, I always appreciated that aspect
of the Beatles. But it still came back to the music.
Put it this way - most bands, if you try to play along on a guitar,
you have no idea what the song is unless you sing. But
with the Beatles, you can recognize the songs just by the chord
changes. No need for a voice. Or crazy guitar solos.
That makes it the people's music. Volksmusik, as
the Germans might say. Like a Volkswagen, only with notes.
I was a senior in high school when John Lennon was shot.
Like it was yesterday, I still remember Howard Cosell(!) delivering
the news during Monday Night Football. First, that he was
in the hospital, then that he was dead. Unbelievable.
A very sad day for everyone on the planet. Like a friend
who just disappeared. That changed everything. After
that, the Beatles went from a present tense possibility into a
past tense historical fact. The book closed. What
can you do? You mourn, then you move on.
That, I suppose, became the cue to start reaching out for other
music, which of course I did. Eventually, I became a huge
fan of both Bruce Springsteen and U2 (among others). I think,
as with the Beatles, both of those bands are really tight knit
groups, and that formed the basis of the power of their music.
I still look forward to their new releases, get them on
the first day they come out, listen to them for hours on end.
I've seen lots of their concerts. As I'm sure I would have
done for the Beatles had I been old enough in the 1960s.
But the Beatles remained the musical bedrock in my head.
Now transformed into a research project, it became a question
of digging, and peeling back the layers. Seeing what you
could find. Fortunately, a lot of other people have had
the same idea, and have done a fantastic job of it. All
the books, unearthed music, all I had to do was track down where
others had gone (thanks Jude!). And that in itself remains
rewarding. I still remember the rush when I first heard
Volume 1 of the Ultra Rare Trax bootleg CD in 1988 - blew
me away! All these songs I'd never heard - in perfect quality!
How many more could there be? I had to know... It was exciting,
and the closest I'll ever come to experiencing what it might have
been like for Beatles fans all those years ago when it was going
on for the first time.
The Beatles are the soundtrack and collective social glue of the
last 50 years of humans. I'm just glad I came along when
I did to be part of the ride...thanks guys, much appreciated...
1. John has 5 brothers and sisters. He's older than all but 4.
2. John's mom and dad met at a mental hospital in Pennsylvania. They always said they were working there at the time.
3. His wife's name is Kim (and always has been). They were born exactly 9 weeks apart, but it took them 40 years to finally meet. Pretty inefficient use of time if you ask me. Kim thinks so too.
4. He earns money as an environmental planning consultant, but would rather write Christmas stories. He earns points with his wife by making the bed every day, but would rather be unmaking it.
5. John was once on the game show Who Wants to be a Millionaire. He still wants to be one. Incidentally, Regis is shorter than you'd think. But at least he's a millionaire.
6. His brother Tom is a climate scientist, and his other brother Bob is an executive with Exxon. Those two have some lively conversations around the Thanksgiving table. Most of which have to do with soccer.
7. John is distantly related to the guy who founded Rickenbacker guitars. That's pretty cool.
8. John's cousin is Tampa Bay Rays Manager Joe Maddon. Go Rays!
9.John collects guitars, and even plays them. But it's an expensive habit. He especially likes his Hofner bass (much lighter than you'd think!!) and the Epiphone Casino. He even writes and records original music, sometimes with his friend Jim O'Toole. And for fun, he'll even sometime mangle the occasional Beatles song, just to see if it can survive the attack. Here's an example of what can happen to "Tomorrow Never Knows" in the wrong hands...
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