The first time I heard the new genre of pop music it staggered my reality. Do you remember that old television commercial about the guy standing listlessly in front of his bathroom mirror in the early morning hours as a hand reaches out and slaps him with a fistful of after shave? “Thanks, I needed that!” was his unexpected reaction. Experiencing a radical sound in my small universe similarly stunned my senses as I spontaneously exclaimed, “Wow! That sounds wild!” I recall having just such an epiphany during the fall of 1963 as if it occurred yesterday.

One day, as was his habit, Codge had taken the family’s kitchen radio downstairs into our tomb to listen to KNAK or KMOR (the two stations that featured Top 40 music; I forget which) while doing his homework. My memory of pop music at that time was that it was generally anemic and bland. Yeah, there were some nice melodies to hum or whistle but nothing got me too excited. But on that fateful afternoon, the DJ played “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” Upon hearing that song for the first time, I blurted out involuntarily, “Wow! That sounds wild!” The radio’s poor sound quality did not dampen my enthusiasm as the final words and guitar chords locked into my brain as the song trailed off into the dark corners of our subterranean habitat. The DJ mentioned the name of the band as the “beetles,” or something like that. I had no idea what he was talking about. All I knew was that I had just heard something so new, so fresh and electrifying, that I wanted more. Codge’s reaction was similar to my own. This was a first for both of us. We had no idea of what we just heard or the effect that this sound would have on us, much less the planet, over the coming months.

As 1963 came to a close, the death of President John F. Kennedy and the arrival of the Beatles created a shock wave of ambivalent emotions throughout the U.S. Shortly after Kennedy’s assassination, my sixth grade classmate and good friend Pete Koeferl invited me and Jim Grisley over to his house to look for fossils on the North Bench of the foothills. Upon our return to his house, Pete’s older sister was listening to songs from side one of “Meet the Beatles”: “I Saw Her Standing There,” “This Boy,” and “It Won’t Be Long” just reinforced the excitement of what I had recently heard on our home radio.

About a month before the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan, I saw a film clip of them on the Jack Parr Show. I think Mr. Parr wanted to expose the band to the American audience for their silliness and outrageous appearance, knowing full well that the Beatles would be appearing on Ed Sullivan the following month. What I garnered from watching the film clip was replaying over and over in my head the ending of “She Loves You.” It was intoxicating reliving that unforgettable cadence of “with a love like that you know you should be glad.” Contrary to Jack Parr’s opinion, I was looking forward to their first American appearance. I began listening to KNAK and KMOR for more Beatles air play. Both stations featured “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and “She Loves You” as the hits de jour. And both songs eclipsed the shallow sounds offered in the day-to-day Top 40 hit parade. It was no contest. I selectively listened for The Fab Four and accepted the rest as filler.

Towards the end of 1963, Codge, Nic, and I came to know the Beatles by name. Nic had bought “Introducing the Beatles” (on the VJ label) as his initiation into the world of British pop music. He would play the album for Codge and me whenever we would go over to his house and hang out in his basement. Eventually, singing along with each song became second nature. Nic had what I considered an impressive stereo system in those days. It was one of those units perched on a metallic frame that doubled as both a turntable stand and record rack. There were two speakers mounted on each side of the turntable that had volume, treble, bass, and balance knobs. If you turned the balance knob far left, the stereo recordings of the Beatles early music (Capital Records “Meet the Beatles” and “The Beatles Second Album”) would play the instrumental tracks suppressing the vocals, manufacturing a karaoke-like configuration, and vice versa if turned to the far right. Turn the knob straight up and you get a blend of both tracks. Voila! Stereophonic music at its best, providing you purchased the stereo version of either album. (The monophonic version was available for $1 less.)

By the time February 9, 1964 rolled around, Codge and I were very familiar with the available Beatles recordings thanks to Nic. That night, Nic watched the Beatles at his house while Codge and I watched from ours. The Ed Sullivan Show was televised Sunday nights on CBS. We had recently acquired a new portable black & white television because its predecessor, an ancient Motorola B&W tube housed in a cherry- colored cabinet mounted on four wooden legs, had literally blown up one afternoon while watching “You Bet Your Life,” belching an eerie yellow smoke from its entrails.

If you like the back story to East Bench then go check out the book on the front page of the web site. I think you’ll like it! And stay tuned for Part 7, coming soon!

Filed under: Tales From The Bench by JimPotter