February 9, 1964, 60 years ago: The Beatles perform on The Ed Sullivan Show, live on CBS, from what was then named CBS Studio 50, at 1697 Broadway between 53rd and 54th Streets, in Midtown Manhattan, New York City. Built in 1927, the theater still stands, seating 400. It was the home of The Ed Sullivan Show from 1948 to 1971, and was renamed the Ed Sullivan Theater in 1967.
The Beatles had been superstars in their native Britain for about a year, but it was only about a month before this that America had taken notice. On January 25, their song "I Want to Hold Your Hand" hit Number 1, launching what became known as rock and roll's "British Invasion."
On February 7, they landed at the newly-renamed John F. Kennedy International Airport (formerly Idlewild Airport), and there were thousands of screaming teenage girls there to greet them. They had become the biggest music phenomenon since Elvis Presley, 8 years earlier.
So, like Elvis, they had to appear on Sullivan, America's biggest TV variety show. And they weren't the only performers on the show that night, or even the only British performers. In fact, Sullivan made the point that he had purposely booked other Brits to make the Liverpool quartet feel more at home:
* The cast of the Broadway musical Oliver!, based on Charles Dickens' novel Oliver Twist. Since the theater was literally on Broadway, just up the block from most of the "Broadway theaters" (most of which are a block or two off Broadway, not on the street itself), Sullivan frequently booked the shows' stars to do their big numbers.
Among the cast of Oliver!, playing The Artful Dodger, was Davy Jones, later of The Monkees -- who never appeared on Sullivan in full, since they were an NBC act. Also in the show, and singing on the Sullivan stage, was Georgia Brown, an English singer born Lilian Clair Klot, who had recorded the song "Sweet Georgia Brown," and renamed herself for it. She would later appear on 2 episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, playing Helena Rozhenko, adoptive mother of Worf.
* Tessie O'Shea, a Welsh singer I can best describe as Britain's answer to Sophie Tucker.
* American husband and wife comedians Charlie Brill and Mitzi McCall.
* American actor and impressionist Frank Gorshin, later to be known for playing villain The Riddler on the 1966-68 Batman TV show, and Commissioner Bele, a bigoted lawman on the original Star Trek series.
* Dutch magician Fred Kaps. Sullivan loved magic acts, and tried to get acts from Europe onto his show as often as possible.
* Acrobats Wells and the Four Fays. Sullivan loved novelty acts like acrobats.
* Terry McDermott, who had won a surprise Gold Medal for America, in speed skating at the just-concluded Winter Olympics in Innsbruck, Austria.
At the time, the theater seated 728 people. There were 50,000 ticket requests. When Elvis played there, there had been 7,000. Former Vice President Richard Nixon's daughters Tricia (who was about to turn 18) and Julie (15) were there, as guests of Randy Paar, daughter of comedian and former Tonight Show host Jack Paar. (Although the Nixons were Californians, they lived in Manhattan from 1963 to 1968. Tricky Dick would infamously target John Lennon for deportation in 1972.)
Sullivan began the show by telling the audience that Elvis had sent The Beatles a telegram, wishing them success in America. What Sullivan didn't know at the time is that it wasn't true: The telegram had been sent in Elvis' name, without his knowledge, let alone his permission, by his manager, "Colonel" Tom Parker. But it seemed to give Elvis' approval for the Mop Tops. (The King of Rock and Roll and the Fab Four finally met on August 27, 1965.)
Sullivan said, simply, "Ladies and gentlemen... The Beatles!" A few hundred high-pitched shrieks filled the air -- how so many teenage girls managed to scream and chew gum at the same time, I'll never know -- and then bass guitarist Paul McCartney kicked things off with the song "All My Loving."
As a tribute to the street on which they were performing, they sang a show tune they'd recorded, "Till There Was You" from The Music Man. While Paul sang lead on that, they were identified by graphics, so the TV audience could learn their individual names. The camera focused on Paul, then on lead guitarist George Harrison, and then on drummer Ringo Starr for a few seconds. When they got to rhythm guitarist and co-lead singer John Lennon, the graphics included "SORRY GIRLS, HE'S MARRIED." (If they only knew how seriously John was taking his wedding vows.)
Then they sang their biggest hit of the previous year, at least in their own country, "She Loves You." Just as "Hound Doug" remains the song which seems to symbolize Elvis, "She Loves You" remains the song which seems to symbolize the early Beatles, with its chorus of "Yeah, yeah, yeah" and their headshakes as they went, "Woo!" in homage to rock and roll pioneer Little Richard, with whom they'd toured England in late 1962.
Over the next 40 minutes or so, the other acts took the stage. The show closed with The Beatles returning for 2 more songs: The B side of their current single, "I Saw Her Standing There"; and the A side, the Number 1 hit, "I Want to Hold Your Hand."
The Beatles themselves weren't satisfied with their performance. Paul later said that John's microphone volume was too low. He was right: On the surviving recording, it does sound like John was only singing backup on "I Want to Hold Your Hand," which was at least as much his composition as Paul's.
Sullivan and CBS were fine with it, because they got the biggest TV audience for a single-network broadcast in American history to that point: 73 million viewers. The band's manager, Brian Epstein, was also very happy with it.
That night has often been cited as the first time Americans felt good again after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, 79 days earlier. Like that day, it became one of those "Where were you when... ?" days, but a good one. That record of 73 million would hold for 3 1/2 years, until the last episode of The Fugitive in 1967.
The New York Police Department was fine with it, too: They had the fewest reported crimes of any night in their recorded history, a record that has been broken only once: The night of the 1965 blackout. As George Harrison later put it, "Even the criminals were at home, watching us."
The Beatles would also appear on Sullivan the following week, February 16, at a remote location: The Deauville Hotel in Miami. They week after that, February 23, the performance was pre-taped, not broadcast live. They made another live appearance on August 14, 1965, taping for broadcast on September 12. All of these appearances were in black & white.
Thereafter, Sullivan would occasionally show them in color promotional clips for their records -- what would later be called music videos. On June 5, 1966, he showed them playing "Paperback Writer" and "Rain"; on February 12, 1967, "Penny Lane" and "Strawberry Fields Forever"; on November 26, "Hello Goodbye," believed to be the only footage of the band performing in their Sgt. Pepper uniforms (although John and Paul had shaved their mustaches); and on March 1, 1970, "Let It Be" and "Two of Us."
Today, the Beatles are known for many things. If Ed Sullivan is known for one thing, it's for hosting the Beatles.
From this moment on, the Beatles changed everything. Music. Fashion. Hair. The nature of fame itself. Even politics: Harold Wilson, leader of Britain's Labour Party, posed for a photo with them. It may have made the difference in Britain's general election later in the year, making Wilson the new Prime Minister. (Posing with Elvis would not have helped Adlai Stevenson defeat Dwight D. Eisenhower in 1956.)
Other British acts came over. Some of them were flashes in the pan: The Dave Clark Five, Billy J. Kramer & the Dakotas, Gerry & the Pacemakers. Some had staying power: The Rolling Stones, the Kinks, the Hollies, the Yardbirds, and eventually The Who.
The Beatles turned record sales from a singles-based thing into an album-based thing. They expanded rock and roll to include classical instruments on their recordings.
And people still get the references. John was "The Smart One." George was "The Shy One." Ringo was "The Silly One." And Paul was "The Cute One." When he was knighted in 1997, Scott Muni, New York's leading "classic rock" disc jockey, who had interviewed the band for WABC (or "W-A-Beatle-C") in 1964, said, "From now on, you can call him Sir Cute One."
And when I called Jordan Knight "the Paul of New Kids On the Block," Justin Timberlake "the Paul of NSYNC," Harry Styles "the Paul of One Direction," and Jimin "the Paul of BTS," people knew exactly what I meant. When Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera, Andy Pettitte and Jorge Posada were called the New York Yankees' "Core Four," it was joked that, because of his nose and ears, Posada was "the Ringo." (Jeter was "the Paul." The spiritual Rivera was "the George." And Pettitte did have a nose something like John's.)
On a personal note: My father was 20 years old, living in Newark, New Jersey, and soon to graduate from the school now known as the New Jersey Institute of Technology, also in Newark. My mother was 16, in nearby Belleville, and a senior in high school. Neither of them were rock and roll fans, and both of them claimed they weren't fans of The Beatles, and never watched any of their appearances on The Ed Sullivan Show.
And yet, in his last years, my father was singing and playing guitar in a "Christian rock" band. His name was John, and there was a Paul in the band. There was no George, and no Ringo (or even Richard). And, if you'll pardon the pun, the spirit was willing, but the talent was weak. But it was a band with a John and a Paul.
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