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Last month, ELO\u2019s orchestral pop maestro Jeff Lynn announced that the group\u2019s last-ever show will take place at London\u2019s Hyde Park next summer. In 2012, Lynn sat down with MOJO\u2019s Keith Cameron to look back on the full unbelievable journey of Electric Light Orchestra. A journey that took him from being a Brummie lad spying on The Beatles at work in the studio to actually producing The Beatles\u2026<\/p>\n
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Words by Keith Cameron<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2024\/11\/gettyimages-84892958-594×594-1.jpg” title_text=”gettyimages-84892958-594×594″ _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text module_class=”image-gallery-caption” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”|300|||||||” text_font_size=”16px” text_line_height=”1.2em” custom_margin=”-10px||||false|false” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Strange Magic: ELO in a Munich recording studio (l-r) Richard Tandy, producer Reinhold Mack, Jeff Lynne and Bev Bevan, 1979<\/span><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text module_class=”text-with-dropcap” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Thursday, October 10, 1968. In EMI\u2019s Abbey Road Studio Three, Ringo Starr is at the piano, giving Paul McCartney a D note so he can start a take of Why Don\u2019t We Do It In The Road? Through the window, transfixed, stare two 20-year-olds from Birmingham.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Jeff Lynne and Roger Spencer are the singer-guitarist and drummer respectively in The It so happened that The Beatles were up to their necks in a creative frenzy as they pinged around Abbey Road hurrying to finish their contentious, confounding twin-record masterpiece, to be known as The White Album. For their part, Lynne and Spencer were a good deal more than \u2018interested\u2019. The Idle Race loved The Beatles, with songwriter Lynne particularly obsessed by the creative audacity laid bare on the Fabs\u2019 three revolutionary records of 1967: Strawberry Fields Forever, I Am The Walrus and Sgt. Pepper\u2019s Lonely Hearts Club Band. With its wonked-out vaudevillean ditties, the Idle Race\u2019s album The Birthday Party would be emblematic of the post-Pepper landscape, while its gatefold sleeve was pure Pepper larceny, featuring a montage of famous figures superimposed on a giant banquet \u2013 The Beatles were there, along with DJ John Peel, an early Idle Race supporter. And now here\u2019s Jeff, face-to-face with his idols.<\/p>\n Having relocated their lower jaws, Lynne and Spencer are ushered along to Studio Two. There they see George Martin recording the string octet\u2019s parts for Glass Onion. Meanwhile, in the control room, there\u2019s George Harrison and, on the day after his 28th birthday, John Lennon. \u201c\u2019Ello!\u201d Lennon waves to the incredulous pair. \u201cHow you doin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n Even though this happened nearly 44 years ago, Jeff Lynne still goes a bit wobbly thinking about it.<\/p>\n \u201cI remember Paul was playing a Fender Jazz bass, still with the price tag hanging off!\u201d he laughs. \u201cThen, to see George and John in the control room, looking at me! I was going, I can\u2019t stand it\u2026 It was almost too much. I felt like a swooning school girl, \u2019cos I loved them so much. It was like meeting the gods.\u201d<\/p>\n As good as it gets? \u201cAw, can\u2019t get much better.\u201d Jeff Lynne\u2019s reverie suddenly halts and he raises a finger. \u201cUnless you\u2019re producing them!\u201d<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2024\/11\/gettyimages-85222620-594×594-1.jpg” title_text=”gettyimages-85222620-594×594″ _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text module_class=”image-gallery-caption” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”|300|||||||” text_font_size=”16px” text_line_height=”1.2em” custom_margin=”-10px||||false|false” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Face The Music: ELO do some pre-gig prep in 1976, (l-r) Mik Kaminski, Hugh McDowell, Jeff Lynne, Richard Tandy, Kelly Groucutt, Melvyn Gale & Bev Bevan<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text module_class=”text-with-dropcap” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Sun is shining in the sky, there ain\u2019t a cloud in sight\u2026 Actually, that\u2019s not quite true. Los Angeles is hot and humid this early August morning, its regulation blue vistas seem coated with shimmering turbulence. Behind ever-present tinted sunglasses, Jeff Lynne eyes the horizon with a slight frown. As a rule, the view from the front of his Beverly Hills house offers a clear view of Catalina Island, 25 miles to the south, but today it\u2019s barely visible as a smudge on the horizon. \u201cNot usually like this,\u201d says Lynne, almost apologetically. \u201cBut that\u2019s heat-haze \u2013 not smog. It\u2019s not yellow enough to be smog. After 17 years you become an expert on this stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Beverly Hills is a long way from Shard End, the sprawling post-war housing estate five miles east of Birmingham city centre where Jeff Lynne grew up. Yet in many aspects, most obviously his accent but also a self-effacing good-naturedness, Lynne\u2019s roots are never far away. If this bungalow he shares with girlfriend Camelia and Lucy the dog is modest by LA rock star standards, it\u2019s only a measure of the man. Jeff makes MOJO a cup of tea and explains that for years now he\u2019s been meaning to build an extra storey, but it would put his studio out of action and he can\u2019t contemplate such upheaval.<\/p>\n Lynne\u2019s house literally is his studio, each room wired for sound so he can record wherever, and whenever, he feels like it. The mixing desk is next door to the lounge\/kitchen\/diner, where a pinboard full of photographs shows Jeff with various musical heroes and friends \u2013 two categories which, to his eternal amazement, merge into one. A framed shot of Jeff with Les Paul occupies pride of place, on top of Trevor Francis\u2019s autobiography. In 1979, with Francis the UK\u2019s first \u00a31million footballer and Lynne\u2019s Electric Light Orchestra embedded in the pop charts like a symphonic stick of candyfloss, the Birmingham blues were big news.<\/p>\n The only obvious sign of extravagance is the annexe, a high-ceilinged piano room with a bar, a jukebox stocked with key Lynne touchstones (Del Shannon, Roy Orbison, Everly Brothers, some obscure quartet from Liverpool), Jeff\u2019s favourite guitar (a 1966 Fender Esquire), Fred The Robot from ELO\u2019s 1981\/82 tour and a billiard table, which MOJO wanders over to inspect, only to discover that most of its baize is covered by a massive framed presentation case, some four feet across, of every Electric Light Orchestra album, acknowledging the eye-watering collected sales of 50 million records. The wall behind the table is covered with ELO memorabilia, so it\u2019s curious that this behemoth of baubles should remain overlooked. As will become clear, although he might wish it otherwise, ELO are far from out of Jeff Lynne\u2019s mind.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text module_class=”pull-quote” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” header_2_text_align=”center” header_2_text_color=”#111111″ header_2_font_size=”46px” header_2_line_height=”1.2em” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Amid the often ludicrous pomp of their music\u2019s presentation, as well as some truly gruesome wardrobe mishaps, ELO were easily mocked \u2013 the gargantuan spaceship set for 1978\u2019s Out Of The Blue tour, with malfunctioning hydraulics that left cellists trapped beneath the stage, typified the perilous nature of arena rock theatrics in the pre-digital age. But their best songs, the inimitable Livin\u2019 Thing or Mr. Blue Sky, are timeless and ever-present and unique. That\u2019s down to Jeff Lynne \u2013 ELO\u2019s songwriter, producer, singer, guitarist, grafting away with a dedication that he ascribes to his father Phil.<\/p>\n \u201cHe was an honest, hard-working guy on the roads department of Birmingham Corporation,\u201d says Jeff. \u201cHe could pick out tunes on the radio and play them with one finger on piano. He probably had the same musical knowledge that I did but didn\u2019t have the opportunity I had to put it into practice.\u201d<\/p>\n The influence of Phil Lynne is honoured on his son\u2019s new album. Titled Long Wave in recognition of the music he heard as a boy on the BBC\u2019s Light Programme (broadcast from the Droitwich transmitter in the West Midlands), it sees Lynne covering a selection of tunes from the post-war era. Thus, Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered and If I Loved You, Broadway standards beloved of his father, get the creamy Jeff Lynne treatment. It\u2019s a project he\u2019s been chipping away at for the last three years.<\/p>\n \u201cAs a kid I used to think Rodgers & Hammerstein was a big load of posh stuff \u2013 I would His reputation as a painstaking and efficient studio hand, as much as the adroit qualities of his own music, took Jeff Lynne beyond ELO and into orbit with his idols. After disbanding ELO in 1986, he produced George Harrison\u2019s 1987 album, Cloud Nine, but only after cloistering himself for a year, learning about frequencies and compression ratios, the technical side of production, codifying years of practical experience into knowledge.<\/p>\n Cloud Nine didn\u2019t just resuscitate George Harrison\u2019s musical career, it changed Jeff Lynne\u2019s life. Through his friendship with Harrison, he joined the Traveling Wilburys, where he played guitar, wrote and produced alongside Harrison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty and Roy Orbison, the singer whose voice had entranced Lynne as a boy. \u201cI loved the Traveling Wilburys, because I didn\u2019t have to think of everything, I didn\u2019t have to write all the songs. We\u2019d all be sitting round a table, strumming, and somebody would go, \u2018Hey, how about this? It\u2019s in G.\u2019 And we\u2019d go, \u2018Oh yeah, that\u2019s good\u2019.\u201d He laughs. \u201cOf course, if Bob thinks of it, we\u2019d go, \u2018That\u2019s great!\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n He subsequently became a go-to producer for the classic rock oligarchy \u2013 even TheBeatles, in 1994 and 1995, when he found himself helping the three surviving Fabs record Free As A Bird and Real Love from John Lennon\u2019s demo tape DNA.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen you\u2019re in Birmingham and you\u2019re playing club gigs every night, you have these dreams \u2013 and I\u2019ve had better stuff happen than I ever dreamed of,\u201d says Lynne. \u201cWorking with George, working with Paul, I never would have dreamed of doing that! I mean, I did dream of it, but I never thought it would ever come true. I went into making music knowing what I wanted but not knowing how to get it. Years of trial and error, and work. Work, work, work. Your voice don\u2019t just come. Unless you\u2019re Roy Orbison.\u201d<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider color=”#111111″ module_class=”custom-divider” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_divider][et_pb_text module_class=”text-with-dropcap” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n At 15, listening to Only The Lonely, Jeff Lynne realised he wanted to be a producer. He heard The Big O\u2019s unearthly croon, and marvelled. \u201cIt was a mystery to me \u2013 almost like a miracle,\u201d he says. \u201cHow did it happen, this wonderful sound, this beautiful voice, it all sounded just perfect. Who put that together? It was the first time I thought about how a record gets made.\u201d<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n In an odd premonition of his current domestic arrangements, the teenage Lynne built a primitive but functional recording studio in his parents\u2019 living room. Perhaps because he was the youngest of four children, Phil and Nancy Lynne tolerated their son\u2019s flights of fancy \u2013 his dad bought him his first acoustic guitar, a smart investment at \u00a32 \u2013 though not with unreserved enthusiasm.<\/p>\n \u201cMy mum wasn\u2019t a very big fan of mine. She always wanted me to pack it up and get a proper job. She used to work at ATV, in the canteen. She\u2019d say, \u2018You should see this wonderful job waiting for you.\u2019 I was already in The Idle Race, we\u2019d made an album by now. I said, What do you mean? I don\u2019t want a job, I\u2019m in a group, I\u2019m a professional! And she said, \u2018But this is a cameraman. You\u2019d love that\u2026\u2019 No, I wouldn\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n One day Nancy Lynne opened Jeff\u2019s bedroom drawer and found it full of money. She assumed he\u2019d stolen it, when in fact these were his earnings from playing lead guitar with The Nightriders, the same band that Lynne used to watch at Shard End Community Centre every Saturday night. In 1963, the-then Mike Sheridan & The Nightriders were the hottest thing in Brumbeat. By day, guitarist Alan Johnson managed a branch of Burton\u2019s tailors on Corporation Street, but by night he became \u2018Big Al\u2019, a deity in the eyes of 15-year-old Jeff Lynne, not least because at the end of gigs he would let the youngster play his Fender Stratocaster for five minutes.<\/p>\n \u201cIt was like having a gold-plated dream in your hand,\u201d says Jeff. \u201cIt had a tremolo arm! It was just fantastic. He started to show me little Chuck Berry riffs. And that\u2019s how I got into it. Big Al was a lovely chap. A great inspiration to me.\u201d<\/p>\n Saturday nights at Shard End Community Centre were about dancing, though not for Jeff. He would stand on his own by the PA, staring at Big Al.<\/p>\n \u201cI was all about the music. Nothing else. I mean, I used to have girlfriends, but it wasn\u2019t serious \u2013 I wasn\u2019t that bothered. It was just: when am I going to get that real amplifier and that real electric guitar?\u201d<\/p>\n By his own estimation, Jeff Lynne\u2019s prospects after leaving the local secondary modern weren\u2019t the brightest. \u201cI could go and work in any factory I wanted!\u201d he laughs. \u201cI started off in the top class and came second. Every year subsequently I dropped down five places. I was joint 39th in the last year. All I wanted to do was get out \u2013 get some work and get some money. Maybe buy some new strings.\u201d In 1964, Lynne bought his first electric guitar, a Burns Sonic, on hire purchase, for \u00a339 \u2013 \u201ca considerable sum, especially when you\u2019ve not got much\u201d. After cutting his teeth with The Andicaps and The Chads, he played his first gig as a full-time professional with The Nightriders on April 4, 1966, at The Belfry. Not only was Jeff filling Big Al\u2019s shoes, but those of Johnson\u2019s successor, Roy Wood, an erstwhile student at Moseley College of Art who had left to form his own band, The Move.<\/p>\n \u201cI met Roy at the Cedar Club in Birmingham, where all the groups used to meet up after their shows,\u201d says Lynne. \u201cRoy was great \u2013 we used to get on terrifically well. And we used to talk about this ELO thing, the \u2018string band\u2019. We imagined how we could do it.\u201d<\/p>\n Next to The Move, thanks to presence of both Lynne and Wood in the final line-up, which duly morphed into ELO in 1972, the significance of The Idle Race in Lynne\u2019s musical journey gets overlooked. But the band\u2019s 1969 self-titled second album is a crucial document: it was the first record Jeff Lynne produced, and its failure to reach a wide audience hit him hard. It also reveals his compositional instincts coalescing around a wistful melancholia that clearly prefigures his greatest work with ELO. Big Chief Woolley Bosher is an austere prototype for Wild West Hero, Out Of The Blue\u2019s widescreen heartbreaking finale, and the influence of Lynne\u2019s Abbey Road pilgrimage is keenly felt: Girl At The Window even invokes The Beatles by name, while it isn\u2019t hard to place Lynne\u2019s narrative perspective vis-a-vis that song\u2019s \u201clonely boy\u201d who tempts the girl outside, \u201cfree as a bird\u201d, and they sit together listening \u201cto the sound of the music going round\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n As Lynne himself acknowledges, even his purportedly upbeat songs have regret \u2013 a profound sense of blue \u2013 at their core.<\/p>\n \u201cI get letters saying, \u2018When I\u2019m fed up and I\u2019ve had enough I just listen to your music and I feel great.\u2019 That\u2019s unbelievable, because I never felt I was doing that. Many of my songs are quite sad. Most of my favourite songs are sad songs. As for the \u2018blue\u2019, I think it\u2019s just the other half of the whole. I think some of the blue bits are built into you and some are learned though life and wear and tear.\u201d<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/flatplan-plus-content.s3.eu-west-1.amazonaws.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/7\/2024\/11\/gettyimages-110261209-594×594-1.jpg” title_text=”gettyimages-110261209-594×594″ _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_image][et_pb_text module_class=”image-gallery-caption” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” text_font=”|300|||||||” text_font_size=”16px” text_line_height=”1.2em” custom_margin=”-10px||||false|false” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n Discovery: The founder members of Electric Light Orchestra (l-r) Jeff Lynne, Bev Bevan and Roy Wood in 1972<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text module_class=”text-with-dropcap” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n At 64, Jeff Lynne is wearing pretty well. His hair remains a Brumbrella thicket. His trousers are Sta-Prest; his Vans are slip-on. \u201cNo laces \u2013 brilliant!\u201d he laughs. \u201cNo need to worry about your beer belly getting in the way when you bend over to tie them.\u201d MOJO drags him over to the billiard table to inspect his ELO commemorative slab, which features the artwork from every one of the band\u2019s original albums plus compilations. Does he have a favourite?<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n \u201cDifficult to say,\u201d he says. \u201cI like something on all of them. And I dislike things on all of them. Probably Out Of The Blue, that was a big job, doing a double album. (Points to 1976\u2019s A New World Record, the band\u2019s first UK Top 10) That\u2019s pretty good. A few good ones on there (Face The Music, 1975, first US Top 10), but the sound is a bit dull. I actually like Eldorado [1974] very much \u2013 some pretentious songs, but some really nice ones, like Can\u2019t Get It Out Of My Head.\u201d<\/p>\n Lynne looks uncomfortable confronting his past \u2013 the part of his past that defines him to the public, at least \u2013 because ELO\u2019s ostensibly sunny legacy veils many difficult moments. The band\u2019s early gigs were \u201ca shambles\u201d, and then Roy Wood left: \u201cWe weren\u2019t getting on as well as we could have done.\u201d<\/p>\n The next few years were \u201cmessy, and I don\u2019t want to dwell on them\u201d, as Lynne struggled to satisfactorily bed down the string element of the sound that was now his responsibility alone. By the time he\u2019d cracked it with A New World Record, and Out Of The Blue, ELO were an unwieldy tour-weary beast. \u201cI never liked touring,\u201d says Lynne. \u201cOf course, we all want to stay up all night drinking and smoking, but I always worried whether I was gonna be able to sing tomorrow. And that does not make it fun.\u201d<\/p>\n He points to 1979\u2019s hit-stuffed Discovery, ELO\u2019s first UK Number 1 and their first without the resident string trio. \u201cY\u2019know what? I\u2019d had enough of strings by then. Making an album used to be: Oh, string day tomorrow! Fucking great! But by then it\u2019s like: Euhhh, string day tomorrow. Do I even want strings on this?\u201d<\/p>\n He admits that the albums after Discovery suffered from his resentment at being contractually obliged to make ELO records. By 1986\u2019s Balance Of Power, following the acrimonious departure of bassist Kelly Groucutt, the group was down to a rump of Lynne, drummer Bev Bevan and keyboardist Richard Tandy. \u201cIt had run its course,\u201d admits Lynne. \u201cWe were tired of each other.\u201d<\/p>\n Yet he still can\u2019t get those songs out of his head. Released simultaneously with Long Wave is Mr. Blue Sky: The Very Best Of Electric Light Orchestra \u2013 not another ELO compilation but some of their most famous songs completely re-recorded. Apart from a small string section and some female backing vocals, Lynne has done everything himself.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen I used to hear those songs on the radio I\u2019d go, Fuck, that ain\u2019t right \u2013 I thought it was better than that! So I tried Mr Blue Sky as an experiment, to see if I could get it better. And I found that I could.\u201d<\/p>\n The rest of the world might reasonably wonder how Mr Blue Sky could be improved upon. Jeff Lynne looks baffled, as if it\u2019s the most ridiculous question ever.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a better sound,\u201d he eventually says. \u201cBetter bass sound, better piano sound, better guitar sound, better drum sound, better harmonies sound. It\u2019s all better. Because I know more. I know what I did in the old days and I know what I did now, so I know how much better they are. That\u2019s what I\u2019m saying, and I\u2019m sticking to it!\u201d<\/p>\n Given such ingrained perfectionism, it\u2019s easy to see why he hasn\u2019t released any bona fide new music since 2001\u2019s Zoom (credited to ELO, it\u2019s a solo album in all but name). Offering MOJO a warm farewell handshake, he says he\u2019s written and recorded seven or eight new songs, and there could be an album next year. No tour, of course, but he suggests that he and Richard Tandy might get together for a one-off performance. \u201cMe and Richard are still great pals. We just made a little film of us playing in here. It was nice not to have all the clutter and clatter going on. Nice just to hear the tune as it really is.\u201d<\/p>\n He smiles, ruefully this time. \u201cIt\u2019s difficult, but you\u2019ve got to work. There\u2019s no alternative to work.\u201d<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n This article originally appeared in Issue 228 of MOJO<\/em><\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][et_pb_divider color=”#111111″ module_class=”custom-divider” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”||0px||false|false” custom_padding=”||0px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_divider][et_pb_text module_class=”credit-names” _builder_version=”4.20.4″ _module_preset=”default” text_font_size=”14px” text_orientation=”center” global_colors_info=”{}”]<\/p>\n Images: <\/strong>Getty<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cIt can\u2019t get better than meeting The Beatles. Unless you\u2019re producing them.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":1876,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_lmt_disableupdate":"","_lmt_disable":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1875","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-mojo-presents"],"acf":[],"modified_by":"kschwarz","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1875","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1875"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1875\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1925,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1875\/revisions\/1925"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1876"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1875"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1875"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/flatplanplus.io\/mojo\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1875"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Idle Race, a Brit-psych quartet just finishing its debut album at Advision Studios, three miles away on New Bond Street. One of the Advision engineers had casually mentioned that he knew someone at Abbey Road, if The Idle Race boys were interested in seeing what The Beatles were up to\u2026?<\/p>\n“It can\u2019t get better than meeting The Beatles. Unless you\u2019re producing them.”<\/h2>\n
never be good enough to do that. But once you study, you realise it\u2019s just a really clever song, brilliantly done.\u201d<\/p>\n