Chapters (91)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- —
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- —
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- —
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- —
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- —
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- —
- Chapter 44
- —
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- —
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- —
- Chapter 60
- —
- Chapter 61
- —
- Chapter 62
- —
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- —
- Chapter 68
- —
- Notes
- —
- ABOUT THE AUTHORS
- Photos
- Coming Soon
McCracken feels like he’s back in October of 1971, when John asked him to “pretend it’s Christmas” to set the mood for his session work on “Happy Xmas (War Is Over).” Tonight, John’s getting a feel for the new track, “Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy),” stopping McCracken on a guitar figure he’s improvised. “I like that a lot, don’t forget it.”
There’s no chance.
The meeting at the Dakota is winding down when John calls the departing musicians over to his portable Fender Rhodes electric piano, saying, “Wait, I just wrote it.”
He plays “(Just Like) Starting Over” and asks Douglas, “Do you think it’ll make the record?”
“I think it’s a smash,” Douglas says. “Probably the first single.”
* * *
Photographers compete for position outside the Hit Factory on 48th Street and Ninth Avenue. It’s August 7, 1980, more than four years since John has recorded new music. Paul Goresh is among the lucky ones who capture a shot, though John’s face is obscured by a wide-brimmed hat.
Only one cameraman is allowed inside—someone outside the New York music scene whose date of birth is approved by Yoko’s astrologers. “Secrecy was the No. 1 issue,” Boston’s Roger Farrington confirms. “I was the first photographer authorized to photograph John Lennon in five years.”
Farrington likes the Lennon he sees through his lens. “He was energized, witty, and looked fit and tan—he had been sailing in Bermuda. And with the long hair he looked every bit a rock star.”
For the album cover, Yoko chooses Japanese high-art photographer Kishin Shinoyama. His depiction of Double Fantasy is a black-and-white portrait of the couple, eyes closed and lips touching in a sensual kiss.
On August 10, John calls videographer Jay Dubin. Dubin answers, but he doesn’t trust the sound on his newfangled mobile phone. He assumes the street noise where he’s standing, in front of the Waverly Theater in Greenwich Village, is making him mishear the name of the caller.
“Okay, let me sing a little bit of a song for you,” John says.
The celebrity sound check sends Dubin on his way to the Hit Factory.
Chapter 57
Chapter 57
Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.
—“Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)”
Two days later, on August 12, John and Yoko announce their new project. They pitch the fourteen tracks (seven are his; seven are Yoko’s) as “dialog songs, meaning that we were writing as if it were a play and we were two characters in it.”
Executives vie for the rights to release Double Fantasy. The benchmark is Paul’s 1979 contract. Columbia had paid him $10.8 million to make the switch from Capitol (the US distribution arm of Apple). Paul even negotiated a secret (until 2005) clause that would allow for a hypothetical Beatles reunion.