GOT TO GET YOU INTO MY LIFE 1966
EVERY Beatlemaniac and Dylanologist knows it was Bob who turned the Fab Four on to marijuana, in 1964. For Paul in particular, the discovery of pot was a revelation.
‘We were introduced to grass when we were in the U.S. and it blew our tiny minds,’ he says.
He has been open about his love for cannabis ever since. In 1966, he described to journalist Hunter Davies how he wrote Eleanor Rigby: he took the tune and rough lyrics to John’s house, where ‘we sat around laughing, got stoned and finished it off’.
The drug was obviously working. ‘I can hear a whole song in one chord,’ he told Davies. ‘In fact, I think you can hear a whole song in one note, if you listen hard enough.’
In his book, Macca reveals that the jaunty Got To Get You Into My Life, from the Revolver album in 1966, was an ode to the joys of pot: ‘I was alone, I took a ride, I didn’t know what I would find there / Another road where maybe I could see another kind of mind there . . .’
Previous accounts of that first joint describe a party in the Delmonico Hotel in New York. Dylan saunters in with his tour manager and drug supplier, Victor Maymudes. They are met by Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ well-heeled manager, who apologises: ‘I’m afraid we can only offer champagne.’
Dylan has something more illicit to share. John tries it first.
Paul’s recollection is that they were drinking scotch, ordered from room service, when Dylan sidled past, into another room. Ringo, curious, followed him and emerged looking a bit strange.
‘The ceiling is kind of moving. It’s sort of coming down,’ Ringo announced. ‘That was enough,’ Paul says now. ‘The other three of us all leapt into the back room where Dylan was, and he gave us a puff on the joint.’