Book Review: Sticky Fingers, Joe Hagan’s biography of Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner

There are two major reasons Sticky Fingers, Joe Hagan’s new biography of Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner, is a necessary book for serious Beatles fans, and particularly those interested in analyzing the band’s historiography.

The first involves how Hagan reveals the sheer scope of Wenner’s and Rolling Stone’s pro-Lennon partisanship, both during the Beatles’ breakup period and beyond. Previous authors (including myself, John Kimsey and Michael Frontani in The Cambridge Companion to the Beatles, Michael Brocken and Melissa Davis in The Beatles Bibliography, Robert Draper in The Uncensored History of Rolling Stone, and Rob Sheffield, among others) already have noted Wenner’s demonstrated pro-Lennon/anti-McCartney slant and acknowledged that it influenced the magazine’s coverage. But Hagan’s work lays out the motivations for and practice of Wenner’s pro-Lennon/Ono coverage more exhaustively than any previous writer. From a historical methods standpoint, such active, influential and avid partisanship on the part of the editor and owner of the magazine needs to be accounted for when analyzing interviews, articles, or music reviews provided by Wenner’s magazine.  (This is not to say that every piece of Beatles-related coverage provided by Rolling Stone is biased: the standard here includes filtering Rolling Stone’s material through a lens acknowledging the reasonable possibility of bias). This acknowledgement of presumed bias as applied to Wenner and Rolling Stone applies not only to the breakup period, but well beyond: Hagan’s work makes a convincing case that Wenner’s personal preferences and partisanship influenced his decisions and coverage surrounding the group well into the beginning of the 21st century. (Other authors reinforce this: Michael Frontani’s “Spinning the Historical Record,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Beatles, provides an excellent critical analysis of the highly inaccurate Wenner-sponsored 2000 Lennon exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame).

The second element Sticky Fingers inadvertently highlights involves overlooked but still crucial aspects regarding the breakup, John Lennon, and Yoko Ono, particularly their impressive and incredibly influential P.R. skill in using Rolling Stone and other publications in establishing their preferred narrative. For decades and across almost the entire spectrum of Beatles historiography, Lennon and Ono’s skill in tireless self-promotion, using and/or currying favor with the press, ensuring favorable coverage, and self-editing their interviews has been all but ignored. One of the few authors to delve into the Lennon’s P.R. efforts was the reviled Goldman. In The Lives of John Lennon, Goldman argued that the couple, seeking favorable coverage, purchased gifts for reporters at The Village Voice, and ensured non-critical coverage of Ono via painting previous uncomplimentary articles as the result of racist and chauvinist writers, while urging the new interviewers to fight back against such deplorable tactics. However, because of its association with Goldman, the evidence and interpretation that Lennon and Ono utilized the press in a deliberate, impressive P.R. offensive was overlooked and ignored by numerous successive authors.

Instead, throughout the decades, the popular image prevailed of Lennon the truth-teller, unafraid of making controversial statements, uninterested in currying favor with the press, and unwilling to play the P.R. game. Authors over the decades, from Wenner to Schaffner to Coleman to Norman to Goodman all have identified McCartney as the Beatle most obsessed with and adept at press relations and manipulations. Yet the numbers (Lennon and Ono’s amount of interviews outnumber McCartney’s 5:1 in the breakup period) and Hagan’s research indicates that this premise is unbalanced. Describing McCartney as a P.R. man is a valid conclusion, but such an assessment tells only half the story: authors and fans must also now acknowledge Lennon and Ono’s deliberate and sustained efforts to use the press to promote and sustain their at times inaccurate version of events. Indeed, both Lennon and Ono emerge as McCartney’s P.R. equals: Ono’s convenient reconciliation with Wenner following Lennon’s death, her continued promotion of the interview whose importance her husband had repeatedly dismissed, and her post-1980 editorial control over coverage of herself and Lennon, as promised by Wenner, clearly portrays a woman cognizant of and determined to shape the historical record, from the primary sources up.

That Ono was and remains a polarizing figure who received, at times, derogatory verbal abuse from the press and fans is undisputed. Numerous influential authors, including Wenner, Coleman, and Norman have noted the press abuse heaped on Ono. But such a one-sided, victim-only assessment of Ono’s portrayal in the rock press and Beatles historiography is imbalanced, in that it ignores her cultivation and use of the press to promote favorable coverage and her version of events. This is particularly evident in Hagan’s account of Wenner’s promise to Ono, following Lennon’s murder, that he and his publication would do nothing but support her and John’s image, and that she would retain the right to edit her own interviews. “Wenner became … Ono’s mythologizer in chief.” Wenner doesn’t dispute this promise, either in interviews with Hagan or elsewhere. This pro-Lennon slant is particularly corrosive when coupled with both Wenner and Ono’s seeming perception of Beatles historiography in general and the Lennon/McCartney partnership in particular as a zero-sum competition in which praising McCartney’s work somehow diminishes Lennon’s, and vice versa. “Over the next several decades, Ono and Wenner would collaborate to make John Lennon the only Beatle who mattered.” (Hagan, 399). This partisanship, coupled with this heavily flawed zero-sum premise, resulted in Wenner’s support for and promotion of, among other things, factually inaccurate museum exhibits (the aforementioned Rock and Roll Hall of Fame exhibit, 2000) inaccurate and hagiographic publications (The Ballad of John and Yoko, 1982) and the unquestioning, sycophantic coverage provided by Wenner and Ono in the 2000 re-edition of Lennon Remembers.

Hagan’s views on Wenner’s personality and publication correspond with those provided by The Uncensored History of Rolling Stone, which also notes how the editor’s personal relationships with artists impacted the scope and tone of their coverage in his magazine. Both Draper’s work and Hagan’s note multiple instances of Wenner altering already independently written reviews of various artists (Paul Simon, Paul McCartney, U2, and John Lennon, among others); less on the basis of musical merit, and more, seemingly, on the basis of Wenner’s emotional or personal feelings regarding the particular artist at that particular time. Wenner’s efforts in pushing for a more negative rewrite of Langdon Winner’s initial, favorable review of the McCartney album – which was, according to Marcus, an editorial re-write prompted by Wenner’s blaming McCartney for the Beatles split and the McCartney press release’s criticism of Lennon – is discussed.

The altering of the McCartney review is not an entirely new piece of evidence, but Hagan’s work does contain previously unknown pieces of information. According to Hagan, Wenner opened his archives to the author, and they included a “Lost Weekend” era postcard and picture, presumably sent by Lennon, of a pleasantly mingling Lennon and McCartney, with the words “How do YOU sleep?” included, serving as a barbed shot at the Rolling Stone editor. Wenner’s claims to not understand the motivation or message behind the postcard seem conveniently oblivious. Hagan’s work also adds to the speculation regarding Lennon’s sexuality, a topic that has gained increased attention over the last decade or so from authors such as Philip Norman and Joshua Wolf Shenk, and from primary sources such as Ono. According to Wenner, following their 1980 reconciliation, Ono frequently hinted to the bi-sexual Wenner that she believed Lennon was somewhat homosexual, but Ono failed to offer examples or provide further evidence beyond teasing Wenner with the subject.

McCartney, who provided interviews to Hagan, has little to say on Ono but much to say regarding Wenner and Rolling Stone; little of it is complimentary. The musician retrospectively declares that he knew Rolling Stone would never, following Lennon Remembers, provide him with fair coverage, and asserts that Wenner’s pro-Lennon promotion helped provide inaccurate and flawed views on his musicianship, character, and the Lennon/McCartney partnership. “It all added to this historical thing, that John was really it in the Beatles, and the other three weren’t it, by implication … To me, me and John writing, it was so equal.” McCartney argues that those artists with whom Wenner has cultivated personal relationships were/are often given good reviews, but argues that that he and his wife, Linda McCartney, purposefully kept their distance from Wenner and “made fun of him.” This, in turn, makes McCartney’s account regarding Wenner’s failure to keep his verbal agreement regarding first Lennon’s and then his own entrance into the Wenner-sponsored Rock and Roll Hall of Fame appear to be either disingenuous or naïve. That McCartney, a savvy businessman and intelligent man, would make a quid-pro-quo deal with Wenner (a known pro-Lennon/Ono propagandist) on the basis of no more than a verbal agreement, with no documentation to back it up, appears either ridiculously naïve or arrogant. (I’m going to preempt the anticipated riposte to the preceding sentence by providing the standard example regarding McCartney’s stunning naiveté and/or sheer arrogance: Heather Mills. Example Acknowledged).

The other Beatles receive little coverage in Hagan’s work, although the author does note the fluctuations – from favorable to derogatory — regarding Rolling Stone’s 70s coverage of George Harrison. Certainly, Hagan’s numerous interviews with Wenner, on both the Beatles and other subjects, give no indication that Wenner even now acknowledges any errors in overtly allowing his personal preferences, relationships, or self-interest to dictate the at times inaccurate and partisan information provided within the pages of Rolling Stone and/or Rolling Stone sponsored events. “There is no such thing as objectivity … nobody is objective” in journalism, according to Wenner.

In a sense, Wenner is right. Complete objectivity is, as historians acknowledge, very difficult to achieve. However, the purpose of a historian is to provide as objective an analysis as they possibly can in order to provide as accurate an analysis as they possibly can. What does Wenner’s partisanship mean for Beatles historiography? Once a source has disavowed and/or demonstrated a serious lack of objectivity, it is the responsibility of other writers using that source to acknowledge that lack. The appropriate response, according to historical methods analysis, is for Beatles authors to include a caution or acknowledgement of Wenner’s and Rolling Stone’s lack of objectivity when using the magazine as a source for their research in Beatles historiography. This is as simple as providing a note by the author, either in the endnotes, bibliography or the text, acknowledging Wenner and Rolling Stone’s documented and admitted decades-long pro-Lennon/Ono slant. This is not an extraordinary step: historians who use the incredibly influential American periodical Time Magazine for research openly acknowledge how, in the 1950s and 1960s, the publication often reflected the political views of its Republican owner, Henry Luce. This does not mean that historians no longer use evidence or interviews from that time period within Time’s publication, but that they acknowledge its existence and account for that element when using it as a source. Beatles historians can incorporate that same method when using sources within Rolling Stone. Given how pervasive a source Rolling Stone is for many Beatles historians, and how much it has shaped and misshaped the band’s story and historiography, this fundamental level of source analysis is long overdue.

 


 

I’d like to apologize for the lack of page numbers provided in the citations: when I photocopied the pages of Hagan’s work I accidentally often cut off the page numbers, and I have since returned the book to the library and can’t double check them. This will also be my last new review for some time; the end-of-semester papers I need to grade have already started to roll in. Cheers. But I look forward to discussing comments or questions with you

17 thoughts on “Book Review: Sticky Fingers, Joe Hagan’s biography of Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner

    • Erin says:

      I’m glad you liked the book review, Carl. After the papers/exam grading is done, I’ll have a nice long break … until the Spring Semester starts. I hope your end of Fall semester goes well, too.

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  1. Karen Hooper says:

    Erin, there is so much good stuff in this review I hardly know where to start. Some initial thoughts:

    From a historical methods standpoint, such active, influential and avid partisanship on the part of the editor and owner of the magazine needs to be accounted for when analyzing interviews, articles, or music reviews provided by Wenner’s magazine.

    Absolutely. The RS narrative, aided and abetted by Ono over the past 40 years, has so completely permeated popular culture that I do wonder if the damage can be undone. And McCartney himself has supported some aspects of the Wenner-promoted mythology (albeit mostly out of a need to keep the relationship waters smooth between he and Ono, but still.)

    Authors over the decades, from Wenner to Schaffner to Coleman to Norman to Goodman all have identified McCartney as the Beatle most obsessed with and adept at press relations and manipulations. Yet the numbers (Lennon and Ono’s amount of interviews outnumber McCartney’s 5:1 in the breakup period) and Hagan’s research indicates that this premise is unbalanced.

    John and Yoko’s PR savvy was legendary; it’s mind-boggling how anyone, author or fan, could overlook that fact. How one evaluated that savvy, however, depended on who exercised it; if it was Paul McCartney, it was a crime; if it was John Lennon or Yoko Ono, it was a virtue. And I wouid also argue to those who tend to crap on McCartney regarding his particular PR inclinations that intentions matter. Paul’s intentions in the PR arena–certainly in his Beatle days– were typicallly directed toward conciliation and peace-keeping; John and Yoko’s were self-aggrandizement and narrative promotion. (It’s also important to note, though, that when John was away from Yoko’s influence, as he was during the Lost Weekend, his style of self-promotion more closely resembled Paul’s.)

    “There is no such thing as objectivity … nobody is objective” in journalism, according to Wenner.

    I just want to hit Wenner with a brick. Clearly the man has never heard of aspiring to a higher principal. Or maybe personal integrity.

    This, in turn, makes McCartney’s account regarding Wenner’s failure to keep his verbal agreement regarding first Lennon’s and then his own entrance into the Wenner-sponsored Rock and Roll Hall of Fame appear to be either disingenuous or naïve.

    I think I’m missing something here. Did Paul say that Wenner promised him entrance to the RR Hall of Fame, and then reneg?

    According to Wenner, following their 1980 reconciliation, Ono frequently hinted to the bi-sexual Wenner that she believed Lennon was somewhat homosexual, but Ono failed to offer examples or provide further evidence beyond teasing Wenner with the subject.

    Yoko apparently did that (hint around without substantive fact-giving regarding John’s sexuality) with Philip Norman too.

    I’ve always wondered about Ono’s motives in all this. Portraying John as having homosexual inclinations (however true that might be) might be her way of maintaining his social capital in popular culture. I’m aware she remixed “Every Man Has A Woman Who Loves HIm” for play in gay nightclubs. Her public declaration about John’s sexuality seems self-promoting to me.

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    • Erin says:

      “John and Yoko’s PR savvy was legendary; it’s mind-boggling how anyone, author or fan, could overlook that fact.”

      And yet the reality is that many — if not most — secondary authors did. That John and Yoko launched a sustained, pervasive P.R. campaign in the breakup period is virtually ignored throughout the 70’s and 80’s. It’s not in McCabe’s Apple to the Core — John, Yoko and Klein are the ones who will give interviews to McCabe, with Paul refusing, but Paul’s still the P.R. guy. It’s not in Wenner, certainly — at least, not in his public statements, although Hagan includes documentation from Wenner during the breakup period talking about John and Yoko’s press savvy. It’s not in Schaffner, who portrays John’s breakup era statements and interviews as honest expressions of emotion and/or information, rather than part of a concerted campaign to push his agenda/version of events. It’s not in Norman, or Coleman, or Riley, or really anywhere in the secondary sources until Goldman. Then its tainted by its association with Goldman, and doesn’t really reemerge until MacDonald flat out declares that John and Yoko’s peace campaign had elements of self-promotion.

      Paul’s version of the R&RHOF issue is this: He and Linda kept their distance from Wenner, because they viewed him as John/Yoko’s propagandist. However, in the late 80s/early 90s Wenner started approaching them (they both had houses in the Hamptons) and asked Paul to induct John into the R&RHOF as a solo artist. Paul agreed, on the condition that he be inducted as a solo artist the very next year. According to Paul, this was done as a verbal agreement between himself and Wenner. The next year, the lists came out and Paul wasn’t going to be inducted. Paul’s version is that he complained to Wenner, and Wenner explained that induction was a committee decision; it wasn’t up to him. Paul scoffs at that in Hagan’s book. So in Paul’s version, either Wenner promised Paul something he couldn’t actually deliver, or he was using the committee issue as an excuse and never intended to induct Paul at that time. (Which is something that Hagan notes about Wenner’s personality; he’s quick to shift the blame on others). According to Wenner, via Hagan, he made no such promise to Paul regarding Paul’s induction. What strikes me most about that is that Paul would believe Wenner would abide by a verbal agreement, and wouldn’t have pressed for something in writing. It’s not as if Paul had any reason to believe Wenner was a particularly honest person, especially where Paul’s reputation was concerned.

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      • Karen Hooper says:

        Wow. Bad enough that Paul was overlooked for so many years (prompting his daughter Stella to wear a “It’s about fucking time” tee shirt to the event), but that he had to resort to such tactics to even be considered. Absolutely disgraceful. With respect to whose version you believe regarding whether or not Wenner promised him a nomination, I can’t imagine that Paul would lie about a thing like that. I could easily envision Paul believing that Wenner DID have that kind of control over the nominations–it was Wenner, after all, who apparently was the roadblock to Paul’s nomination during preceeding years. To me, it would make sense for Paul to believe Wenner when he said he would get him nominated.

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        • Erin says:

          “I could easily envision Paul believing that Wenner DID have that kind of control over the nominations”

          The nomination issue/process on the R&R HOF in general is, I think, deliberately muddy. Like you, I think we have good reason to believe — and that Paul would have had good reason to believe — that Wenner had the power to secure his entry. What I’m curious about is simply why, when Paul entered this agreement with Wenner — I’ll induct John into the R&RHOF, and the next year you’ll induct me in — that Paul, who had no reason, given Wenner’s track record, to like and/or trust him, didn’t say: “you know what? If you want this quid pro quo agreement, I want to get it writing, rather than just a verbal agreement, because I don’t trust you to keep your word.” Naiveté? Arrogance? It didn’t occur to him? Not wanting to deal with Wenner one second longer than he had to? I just find it curious.

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          • Karen Hooper says:

            Unless it wasn’t worth it to secure something in writing, in that it wasn’t reinforceable anyway. But I see your point–it does imply that Paul trusted Wenner to honour a verbal agreement, which, based on past experience with Wenner, doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

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          • linda a. says:

            “What I’m curious about is simply why, when Paul entered this agreement with Wenner — I’ll induct John into the R&RHOF, and the next year you’ll induct me in — that Paul, who had no reason, given Wenner’s track record, to like and/or trust him, didn’t say: “you know what? If you want this quid pro quo agreement, I want to get it writing, rather than just a verbal agreement, because I don’t trust you to keep your word.” ”

            Maybe it depends on the tone of their meeting in the Hamptons. Wenner might have been very friendly, jocular, “neighborly”, and also extremely flattering toward Paul in his efforts to get Paul to do what he wanted. He may have even been disingenuously contrite about his past attitude toward Paul. He also may have talked about Yoko in a disparaging way to get Paul even more off his guard. McCartney might have been “swept off his feet” with charm and flattery and it might have been very convincing at the time. Also, Paul might have even been a little high during the encounter, especially if it was a barbeque or party. He may have been caught up in the moment, especially if Wenner appealed to his vanity.

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            • Erin says:

              “He may have even been disingenuously contrite about his past attitude toward Paul.”

              I admit, in cases such as this — Wenner, Coleman, Norman — I find Paul’s willingness to work with individuals who had previously unfairly demeaned him curious. Unfortunately, Hagan doesn’t give us any details beyond Wenner approaching the McCartney’s to come see his new Picasso, so we don’t know what Wenner’s pitch was. But the possibility that Paul was a little high is well worth noting. 🙂

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            • Erin says:

              “Also, Paul might have even been a little high during the encounter, especially if it was a barbeque or party. He may have been caught up in the moment, especially if Wenner appealed to his vanity.”

              I find cases such as this — Paul’s willingness to work with people such as Wenner, Coleman, Norman, etc. who had previously denigrated his work and Beatles contributions — curious. Unfortunately, Hagan doesn’t give us any details about the interaction, beyond that Wenner approached the McCartney’s, inviting them to come see his new Picasso, and then made his pitch.

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            • Brit says:

              I agree with Linda A. It’s a little humiliating to have to ask for that kind of thing in writing. The distinction is dubious anyway, at least from where I’m sitting. It’s a bunch of dude-bros inducting their favorite people based on little/no objective criteria. I mean the whole thing is essentially a self-designated “cool kids’ table” – and Wenner was basically like, “sorry, I’ve been a jerk, but I’m nicer now! Come sit at our table!” I imagine Paul was flattered/honored/enthusiastic about being asked to induct John (was he REALLY going to give someone else that distinction?!) and was maybe feeling forgiving/generous and just decided to be a human being about the whole thing.

              While we’re on the subject… Why WAS John inducted first? I’m 1000% sure Paul sold LOTS more records than John. Is the criteria literally “Top Coolest Bad-Ass Dudes?” That’s so pathetic. (sorry, too much? I really dislike Jann Wenner)

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              • Erin says:

                Sorry for the late reply, Brit. My home internet was down all weekend (we’re getting a new ISP, but not for two more weeks). I didn’t even see this comment until today.

                “While we’re on the subject… Why WAS John inducted first?”

                I think that’s an impossible question to definitively answer, because the nomination/approval process to the R&RHOF is, so far as I know, deliberately opaque. Wenner is certainly a part of the board that makes those decisions and vote on including certain acts, and evidently has a significant if not ultimate say in who does and doesn’t get voted in. His and RS’s role in the nomination process is even more outsized than once the candidates have been selected for the larger voting. I can’t vouch for the accuracy of these articles, but here are few articles on the process:

                This one goes more in-depth on how the nomination/voting process works:

                https://www.orlandoweekly.com/Blogs/archives/2015/04/17/a-look-at-the-cryptic-rock-and-roll-hall-of-fame-voting-process

                Here’s an article from a member who criticizes the obfuscation of the board and highlights some of the R&RHOF’s glaring weaknesses:

                http://www.vulture.com/2016/12/problem-with-rrhof-voting.html

                Neither one paints a picture of an institution that is particularly transparent, inclusive, diverse (Oh, you’re a white male baby-boomer rock journalist? You can become a member of the R&R voting committee, and you’ll fit in with the 98% of the rest of the members that are also white male baby boomer rock journalists!) or interested in providing public agreed upon standards/parameters for acts to meet in order to merit inclusion.

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              • Karen Hooper says:

                While we’re on the subject… Why WAS John inducted first? I’m 1000% sure Paul sold LOTS more records than John.

                I have a hunch that Jann’s attraction to John, and his antipathy toward Paul, lead to that decision. It’s outrageous, I agree.

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          • Hologram Sam says:

            What I’m curious about is simply why, when Paul entered this agreement with Wenner — I’ll induct John into the R&RHOF, and the next year you’ll induct me in — that Paul, who had no reason, given Wenner’s track record, to like and/or trust him, didn’t say: “you know what? If you want this quid pro quo agreement, I want to get it writing, rather than just a verbal agreement, because I don’t trust you to keep your word.” Naiveté? Arrogance?

            Perhaps fear? He’d been burned so many times before in the press. Maybe he didn’t want to see a “Paul insisted on getting it in writing he’d be inducted in the Hall of Fame!” headlines. It would make him look insecure, petty and needy. Someone in Wenner’s organization would have leaked such a contract sooner or later.

            Paul had two choices: trust Jann’s verbal agreement or trust Jann to keep their written agreement secret.

            And speaking of John’s induction, there’s an incredibly honest moment in Paul’s speech where he mentions Yoko’s first appearance, when she approached him with her art project idea and he told her maybe John would be interested. Paul smiles at this point and pauses, like he wants to say more but knows he shouldn’t.

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            • Erin says:

              “Paul had two choices: trust Jann’s verbal agreement or trust Jann to keep their written agreement secret.”

              An unfortunate situation, indeed.

              “And speaking of John’s induction, there’s an incredibly honest moment in Paul’s speech where he mentions Yoko’s first appearance, when she approached him with her art project idea”

              I’m trying to recall if Yoko has ever acknowledged that the first Beatle she approached was Paul, not John, and that she was well aware of who John was when they encountered each other at her art show. If she has, I can’t recall it. Regardless, with Paul making that point, he was using a small part of his R&RHOF speech to dispute part of the “The Ballad of John and Yoko.”

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              • Karen Hooper says:

                I’m trying to recall if Yoko has ever acknowledged that the first Beatle she approached was Paul, not John, and that she was well aware of who John was when they encountered each other at her art show.

                I can’t recall a time either.

                Yoko has been consistently disengenuous throughout the years regarding her meeting and eventual relationship with John. It’s strange.

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