Telstar: The Joe Meek Story

THIS PROGRAMME CONTAINS VERY STRONG LANGUAGE

Joe! I need for you to come inside now!

Comin'!

No, now!

Your father's having one of his turns.

-HE SHOUTS:

-In a minute!

-FROM GRAMOPHONE:

-'..A minute... A minute... A minute...'

'A minute... A minute... A minute... A minute...'

'60s BEAT MUSIC

TV: 'Next week on Harper's West One, special guest star

'John Leyton, star of Biggles as you've never seen him before.

'That's Thursday, eight o'clock, Harper's West One.'

RADIO: '..and a very special good morning to the housewife at number 26...'

Hello?

-Would sir need any assistance?

-I'm... They're recording my song.

Well, then, you'll do. I need to have a word about my ceiling.

-Sorry, I can't...

-I'm the landlady. This is my building.

-..Help.

-Pardon?

-I can't help. I only just...

-It's none of my business,

but they've had some very odd types up there.

My Albert won't stand for it.

As long as they keep themselves to themselves, but this takes the biscuit!

-What do you make of that? It's all black and treacly.

-Yes.

-Some sort of glue. They've only been here a fortnight.

-Oh, dear.

Had some terrible complaints from the neighbours about the noise.

Grown men playing silly beggars with records.

I only hope it doesn't add up to nothing.

Actually, I've already bought two.

You should see the state of it up there.

I'm never going to be able to let it again now, am I? You're a quiet one, aren't you?

-Sorry. Just a bit...

-Shy? Not much good for a pop star.

-Actually, I'm classically trained. Biggles is doing my song.

-Biggles?

-Off the telly.

-Of course he is, dear. Now, come on. Let's find trouble.

Yes, let's.

How many musicians am I paying for? For God's sake.

Oh, Major, you'll do. I've had a disaster in my stockroom.

Just arrived myself, Violet, dear.

-Joe will be down as soon as he's spotted.

-Thank you.

Must crack on, woman, crack on!

Here, I've had some very nice oxblood belts in,

go lovely with them brogues.

-Ta-ra!

-Anton, isn't it?

-Sorry?

-Anton Hollywood, pianist?

-Yes.

-Well, no.

-Well, I'm afraid Joe's decision is final,

he doesn't feel you've got what it takes.

And if you've come for compensation, you can trot off back to wherever the hell...

No, it's Geoff, not just Geoff. Geoff Goddard.

-Oh! The author! Tunesmith!

-Composer.

-Composer, yes, of course.

The name Anton Hollywood was Joe's idea, it's not real.

It's a stage name. He thought he'd do a Russ Conway with me, didn't work out.

So you're Goddard, are you? Read Goddard, didn't think Hollywood.

-No, well, you wouldn't.

-Don't slouch, young man! Upright! Shoulders back!

Splendid song!

(Thank you.)

In fact, I wanted to thank you for the opportunity, really.

-This is a very good...opportunity. And...

-Very touching.

It's Joe you should thank. He's the one that spotted your talent.

I know Fanny Adams about the tunes. I just pull the purse strings.

-I'm in plastics.

-Really?

-Yes, my son took me to a record shop, selling like hot cakes.

What's his name? Lonnie? Larry? Big nose, curly hair, plays the broom.

-Donegan? Lonnie Donegan?

-That's the chap! Expanding market, see?

Good business opportunity. Met Joe, thought, "That's my boy.

"He knows his Indians." Anyway, it's him you should thank.

TOILET FLUSHING

< That'll be the last time anyone uses that this morning.

< Carry on singing, I'll be back in a minute.

Oh, hello, Geoff! I know what you're thinking, why are they singing in the toilet?

Well, once I've worked my magic and added some reverb,

it'll sound more like a...like a cathedral! Do you need to go?

-No. It would be embarrassing in front of everyone singing.

-Speaking of which, backup singers, that is.

-I've had a quick look at the figures. Are you sure you need them?

-Course we need them!

-And an orchestra?

Oh, it's hardly an orchestra. Two violins and Charles on his mum's old cello. You all right, Charles?

-I've been better.

-Harper's West One is getting 10 million viewers.

They're all going to hear Geoff's song, it's our first good chance for a hit, so it can't be shoddy.

Have you...?

VIOLINIST: (I think we should leave.)

-Have you read the West One script yet?

-No.

-Well, John plays a pop singer called Johnny Sincere. Isn't that a great name?

-Top drawer!

-And he opens a record department with your song.

-Who'd have thought, Biggles?

-He's Ginger.

-Sorry?

Johnny Leyton in Biggles. Plays Ginger. Boy's a big fan.

BANGING AND SHOUTING

Geoff, come here. Excuse me, Charles, ladies.

Take the speaker, point it out that window towards the backyard.

All the other windows are soundproofed. And I'll need that.

Drop dead, you silly, old fucker!

-Oh, God!

-All right, you can close the window and put the speaker back, now. There's a love.

Is he coming down? >

-Can you talk to her? I'm far too busy right now.

-Yes, it's best you crack on.

Well done, Geoff, I hope we'll be seeing a lot more of you.

-LANDLADY SHOUTS:

-Joe!

He gave you that speech about not slouching, didn't he?

I'm sorry about Anton Hollywood, Geoff. You could have been Reading's own Liberace.

That would have been nice(!)

But the real Liberace don't make those little piggy, grunty noises when he plays, does he?

Really, it's fine.

They're awkward to record around, ugly to watch. Shame. You're a wonderful musician.

-Lovely looking boy.

-Well, I'm sure this one will sound wonderful. I wanted to thank you.

-No need to thank me, Geoff. It's a good tune.

-You did such a wonderful job with Lonnie Donegan.

SKIFFLE MUSIC

# He's putting on the agony

# Putting on the style

# That's what all the young folks are doing all the while. #

MUSIC STOPS ABRUPTLY

Well, the royalties from those tunes helped set this place up.

-Let's hope you get some royalties from your little tune.

-Well, that would be nice.

CAR HORNS

I know it's a little impractical, with the stairs and the traffic, but...

It's got a very strong...energy.

Yes! I was going to say that.

TRAFFIC NOISE

-Keep your hair on!

-How would you like a smack in the mouth?

THUNDER

Can I ask? I don't mean to be rude. Something unusual I heard about you.

Go on, I won't bite.

About you and Buddy Holly. About his death. Your prediction.

Yeah. Well, it came to me. A message.

-A warning for Buddy.

-Tragedy. Great loss.

I give him a note backstage. I warned him. I told him the date.

If only he'd listened.

-Do you still try to...communicate?

-When I have time.

LOUD VOICES

-Perhaps you'd like to join me?

-I'd love to.

Here comes the cavalry.

-You selfish, skinny runt.

-Those bastard stairs. I've done me sodding back.

-You can shut your cakehole.

I've got to bring the rest of the kit up, yet.

-It's not the kit, it's having to lug that fat arse.

-Watch your mouth!

-Watch your diet!

-You want to fuck right off!

-Ladies and gentlemen, Flanagan and Allen.

-Oi, Joe, it's pissing down out there.

-Really?

-Has anybody got a towel? I'm drenched.

-I'm going to have a crap.

-I'll bring a towel back down with me.

-No, you won't. I have a girl singing backing up there.

-It's vital for her singing that she's able to breathe in.

-Who's got the arse now?

FARTING

Nearly shat meself!

You do that again, I'll find something to plug the hole with!

This is the band.

What they lack in looks, they make up for in charm.

I've warned you about those ridiculous costumes!

Now...! Oh, good God, what is that! It's like a rotting trout! Come here, take those off right now!

SINGER WARMING UP

Good Lord!

-And you are?

-Singing.

-Of course.

-Sorry about that.

-Last time I got pissed on in this getup, my nipples and armpits went all black.

-You are a soapy bastard.

-Joe, I thought we discussed this?

-Oh, shush!

Took a week to get the stains off. Carbolic, I had to use.

Why don't you use an umbrella?

-Cos cowboys didn't have umbrellas.

-No, and I bet they didn't have black armpits, either.

-Take off those ridiculous cowboy suits!

-They look wonderful.

-I will not pay another fine for their antics!

-Marvellous publicity.

-Getting your collar felt isn't marvellous.

-No-one felt your collar.

No, they get all black fingers.

I don't see how a brush with the law can be bad press for a band called The Outlaws. Can it, Geoff?

I don't know what anyone's talking about, or who anyone is.

Oh, really, Joe! Geoffrey, Billy Kuy, Mr Clem Cattini.

-And the smelly bastard's Chas Hodges.

-The Outlaws!

-This is Geoff, he wrote the song.

-Hope you like it.

-Oh, it's your song? Lovely!

-Thank you.

So you're not really cowboys?

-No.

-You want to watch him, he'll have you on top of a 19 bus with your pants round your ankles

if he thinks it'll shift a few records.

-Would he?

-Is that entirely necessary?

Last month, when we released Swing Low as a single?

Joe had us in all the clobber, on a fucking stagecoach,

driving around Piccadilly, blasting out the tune.

Then he turns around, and says, "I know, why don't we stick up the HMV and nick our own record!"

We burst in, these two cowards fuck off!

I'm left there, with a cap gun up the counter girl's hooter like The Lone Wanker.

Marvellous press!

-Yet, but guess what?

-Never even heard of us.

I had to play the racket to the desk sergeant to keep you out of prison!

Now, all of you change out of these outfits immediately!

< Coo-ey! Joe?

Joe, look! Oh, hello, boys!

Afternoon, Mrs Jensen, all right?

-Lovely shirts. Don't you look smart?

-Thanks.

-You're all wet. Should have used a brolly.

ALL: Cowboys didn't have brollies.

Now, look. I know you're busy, but I've got a bone to pick with you, and you.

What have you done to my windows?

My stock room ceiling's all black and treacly, and Mr Brolin's downstairs in his pyjamas.

-He says you swore at him.

-He started it!

-Pardon?

-He yelled at me, and I yelled back.

I can't repeat in front of these young boys the type of filthy language he was using.

That's what a recording studio is for, is it?

Give you two the chance to play silly buggers and scare my neighbours?

He's ever so upset, he works shifts!

Yeah, don't we all! Shut up!

-If he can't take it, he shouldn't dish it out.

-Yeah, well, what about my ceiling?

That's why your ceiling is all black and treacly,

cos I poured a tin of liquid rubber through the floorboards. For soundproofing.

Soundproofing, you see! It's for the greater good.

Gave me ever such a stir. It's all gone runny, and there's flies sticking to it.

Don't fret, Violet, dear. We'll have someone pop round and rub that rubber off.

But it will have to be later on.

I do have a major television star, John Leyton, coming round any second now.

As you can see, I'm rushed off my feet.

Him off Biggles? Now I understand. Yes, sorry. I thought you were a bit soft.

Oh, I'd love to meet him!

You'll have all the big stars passing through here, Violet.

Why don't you pop downstairs, make a nice pot of tea and the Major can introduce you when he gets here?

-I'll tell him you're sorry.

-Who?

-Mr Brolin, your neighbour.

-Tell him to shove his bin lids...

-Yes, splendid. A pot of tea. After you, Violet.

All right, Fred. Pick us up at about three.

Are you sure, sir? No offence, sir.

-It seems like a right shithole.

-Yeah, let's make it 1:30.

-How are we doing, boys?

-Nearly there.

Right, I want to set up the mics downstairs, I want to be ready to go when I get back.

He's fucking barmy!

-You playing that old Joanna?

-Yes. Is it in tune?

Doubt it.

What's in here?

Don't go in there. He'll go doolally.

-Why?

-Because he's bonkers.

Because it's full of our Joe's secret, magic echo doodahs.

He's a loon.

No, no, he's not mad. He's one of your eccentrics, with his gadgets and witchcraft. He's harmless enough.

-Load of bollocks.

-Yes, but he did predict the date. February 3rd.

The day of Buddy Holly's tragic accident. And warned him.

Yeah, he's a proper Nostra-fucking-damus.

-Right date, wrong year.

-Fucking loon. Load of bollocks.

Well, it is easy to mock.

There are many things we do not understand. Not on this plane.

My involvement in spiritualism is quite serious.

I've been attending a weekly psychic circle for some months, now, in the hope of becoming a medium.

In fact, the song we are recording today,

came to me from the other side.

From beyond.

Fucking hell.

Here. You're studying to be a medium, Clem's studying to be a large.

Right, are we in tune and ready? John is downstairs, being talked at by Mrs Shenton.

-People forget that you're an actor, a trained actor, you know.

-Yes.

I was in drama school for three years. I can play all sorts of, you know...

-I was playing a Cockney...

-Really?

-Yeah, I can...

Right. I want to do a sound check. A bit of noise from everyone for level.

INSTRUMENTS ALL PLAY AT ONCE

Good. Just hit a bit harder. That's good.

-SHOUTING:

-All right, all right, all right!

Right, I want that moved over there, and no-one touch the mics.

Right, you heard the man, Biggles is arriving 0500 hours!

ALL SHOUT IN POSH VOICES

Get that out your systems for a start, cos I'm having none of it.

-Roger, Roger Wing Commander!

-I fucking mean it!

Tone deaf actors,

midgets, bodybuilders.

It's a fucking pantomime. What next? Singing fucking postman?

Will you shut your moaning, you wet bastard.

-You're being paid, ain't you?

-Hi, guys. John Leyton.

-You must be the band.

-Sharp as a pin.

Hello, John. Lovely jacket.

Thanks, Joe, glad you like it.

I've been wearing this thing so much lately,

I just don't feel dressed without it.

-Yeah, where did you leave your goggles?

-Right. Very funny.

-This is Geoff. He wrote the song.

-Rocking tune, Geoff.

Where did you park your plane?

Same place you parked your horsey, partner.

Ha-ha!

Thanks.

Me and the boys have been rehearsing all afternoon.

-Oh, the backing singer. You all right?

-Fine, thank you.

So, what I'd like to do is I'd like to go straight for the levels.

John, you're over here.

-Yeah, cool. Oh, Joe.

-Yeah?

Not my business, but those instruments I passed downstairs,

the cello and the violins,

I don't think you're going to be able to hear them up here.

-There's microphones down there, John. That's what they do.

-Really?

-Great.

-Thank you.

-One, two.

-Charles, I want to go straight for the level.

-OK!

-Count them in. We'll see what it sounds like.

-OK.

# Oh, oh

# Oh

# When the mist's a-rising And the rain is falling

# And the wind is blowing cold across the moor

# I hear the voice...

# I hear the voice of my darlin'...

-(ECHO)

-Ready?

Will Johnny Remember Me be a hit?

O.

N.

E. Number one.

# Johnny, remember me

# Yes, I'll always remember

# Till the day I die

# I'll hear her cry

# Johnny, remember me

# Ah-ah

# Ah-ah-ah

# Ah ah ah-ah

# Ah ah-ah

# Well, some day, I guess

# I'll find myself another little girl

# To take the place of my true love

# But as long as I live I know

# I'll hear her singing in the sighing of the wind

# Blowin' in the tree tops way above me

# Johnny, remember me... #

You come back here again, I'll cut your bollocks off!

And don't forget your amp!

You avaricious pig!

All I did was ask for my money. He's fucking mad.

You're fucking mad!

Move, move.

Sorry about that.

Now, where were we?

Well, I was thinking something like this.

Piano's sounding a bit odd, a bit strange.

I put some drawing pins in on the hammers. It adds a bit of sparkle.

Hm. Sparkle? Yes. Wonderfully clever.

See, what I want

is a...a sort of Tornados' theme tune

so they can have their own solo slot before Billy Fury comes on.

So, like the...

The Shadows have Apache before Cliff.

Does it have to sound Red Indian?

PLAYS A FEW NOTES

No, not really.

Have a go on that.

It's a...

clavioline.

It only plays one note at a time

but it might be good for the main theme.

Ooh, I like it.

Sounds odd. Aloof.

I like that word, "aloof."

PHONE RINGS

Don't worry, it will come to us.

Hello, RGM. Oh yeah, it's me, put him on.

Joe? Larry. Joe.

I know how much you would love to record Billy Fury

and we've considered your offer

but, unfortunately, we won't be recording with you.

-Why's that?

-Nothing personal, trust me.

Listen, your boys, The Tornados, they're doing a great job

backing Billy on the tour. They are ace.

It's just that we have our own recording arrangements.

-Not good enough for him?

-Joe, Joe.

Please, let's keep this professional.

We have had a number one.

(MOCKINGLY) Yes, Joe. You did.

And I look after a dozen boys,

any one of which can do what your boy does.

Oh, really? Well, good luck to them.

Upstairs. It's on the latch.

Listen, Joe. Let me tell you something.

You may manage the tour, you may manage The Tornados, but you do not

manage Billy Fury and I don't see Billy Fury recording in your toilet.

God...

Can I help you?

-Who are you?

-I'm Heinz.

I met Cliff Bennett backstage at the Palace Ballroom in Southampton,

said I should come and see you, like, you know, and audition.

Said he'd have a word, like, you know,

said he'd put in a word for me.

Said if I used his name, it'd be all right, I could just turn up.

You know, no appointment.

Did he? That's nice of him.

Yeah?

So, where did you say you were from?

Near Southampton.

-And what is it that you do?

-Bacon slicer.

-Really? How useful.

Oh, sorry. You meant... Yeah.

I sing. And I play a bit of bass.

Tell you what.

Why don't you pop to the shops and get me a jar of coffee.

-Instant all right?

-Joe, I really think I found a nice little melody.

-Here's ten bob. Get me a couple of packs of Preludin.

-Right.

-What's that?

-Preludin, you get it in the chemists.

It's slimming tablets.

You're on a diet?

No. I'm just going to be very busy, that's all.

Pop back in an hour, I'll see if I can fit you in.

Right, ta. Great.

Hour.

-Lady cream.

-Preludin!

-Yeah.

He's eager, isn't he?

-Can't say I noticed.

-Right, back to work.

'From a ground station...'

-Did you put sugar in it?

-Um...yeah.

'An historic feat that could reshape man's future.

'That satellite, of course, is the Telstar,

'170 pounds of complex electronic equipment that receives signals

'beamed from Earth, magnifies them ten billion times

'and rebroadcasts them...'

'..Telstar, if you were with us earlier this evening,

'you'll know what this is.

'It is the near miracle satellite now in orbit in space,

'which we hope in just one hour from now on this very programme

'is going to transmit to us

'the first ever live public television pictures

'from the United States...

'I can see from where I'm sitting,

'let's go over live to Goonhilly in Cornwall.

'Thank you, Richard. There is an unmistakable image. That is a man's face.

'That's the first live television picture across the Atlantic...'

'What does the future hold? Scientists visualise

'a belt of Telstars encircling the globe

'in such a manner that transmissions will be continuous around the world.

-ECHOING:

-'Photographic communication... miracle... Telstar...'

HE HUMS TO HIMSELF

ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC

HE SINGS A TUNE BADLY

HE SINGS A TUNE BADLY WITH ECHO SOUND EFFECT

I can't possibly play guitar to this.

I've never heard the like.

Well, he can't play any instruments, so he has to hum those fucking tapes.

Clem, I don't want it on the ride. I want it on the hi-hat.

I'm on the hi-hat!

-Then play it closed.

-I played it closed!

Then play it better!

-Oh, OK, then(!)

-Right, well, then fucking get on with it, then.

You.

# Twang, twang, twang

# Twang, twang-twang twang, twang... #

Pardon?

# ..Twang, twang-twang... #

Look, we've got to be at Great Yarmouth by six. By rights, we should be off inside an hour.

# Twang-twang-twang... #

Right, that's it, that's it, you play that.

You play what you always fucking play.

Dum, dum, dum. Tighter, tighter.

Right, that's not bad. Stop, stop!

I want eight bars of that. Twice.

-We never had this trouble with Johnny Kidd.

-I'll bet.

-Never recorded over a handbag shop.

-Yeah, it's unusual, isn't it?

Always used to have to wear a suit to the studio.

Riveting.

GET ON WITH IT!

Sorry, mate. No cue lights.

CRACKLING We present...Navy Lark...

BANGING

What are you doing?

-Drumming.

-Bum titty bum titty bum titty bum!

-BANGING

-Look, no hands!

Joe, can I have a word?

I'm recording!

You'd better look at me!

-Carry on, then.

-JOE!!!

-Oh, fucking come on...

JOE!!!

Keep practising. I'll be back in a minute.

Joe, we ain't got the time. I don't want to piss Larry off.

Well, fuck Larry Parnes! And fuck Billy Fury! This is my tour.

You are my band. And you will stay sat there till I say.

He only started the Tornados so he could try and lure Billy Fury into his khazi.

Never had any of this with the Pirates.

You should always have more than one string to your bow, Patrick. Duck?

Keep it.

-Thank you, sir.

-These ducks are cheap. Not like these tapes.

What does he want more for?

Don't know, sir. Recording?

-Hello, boys. How's the noise?

-All right?

-Hello, matey.

-Are we off, then?

-Allegedly.

-What?

-About an hour.

-We hope.

Well, what do you think of the whistle, then?

-Very smart.

-He just left it in my room.

-I don't know about that tie, though.

-What about it?

-I don't know, it's a bit, you know. Isn't it, Alan?

-What?

-The tie.

-Oh, yeah.

-What's wrong with it?

-Nothing, it's fine, it's fine.

No, you're right. It's a bit... I'll just go upstairs and change it.

Suit yourself.

Handy living upstairs.

Yeah.

Too fucking handy.

Soppy as a box of frogs. I wouldn't mind if he could play.

He plays bass like he's wearing boxing gloves.

It's when the valve shorts out. It picks up the guitar amp.

Sorry to bother you. I was listening to the Navy Lark.

It all went funny and fuzzy like that.

And then a high-pitched wheeeee sound, I couldn't believe my ears.

And then it all went quiet, and then suddenly all hell let loose.

I thought, that's not Jon Pertwee.

Right, well, I will have it sounding clear as a bell.

-Afternoon, Joe.

-Oh, look, Father bloody Christmas!

-Ponce.

-Who?

-Change me tie? I haven't been home since Wednesday.

Can't remember the last time I changed my pants.

Blood out of a stone! Patrick, put them in the office and put the kettle on.

Those tapes aren't to be trifled with. They're expensive.

I'm not to be trifled with!

Begging for tapes is not what number one record producers do.

It'll take a while for the revenue from your hits to actually appear.

What am I supposed to do in the meantime, play conkers?

No, but come along, Joe. I want to expand, but one step at a time.

You've got Patrick now as a full-time office assistant.

Oh, well, whoop-de-fucking-do, Mr Rockefeller(!)

Joe, Joe there's a... Sorry, Major, sir. There's a phone call for you.

-It's Brian Epstein.

-Shit.

-About the demos.

-Yeah, yeah, yeah.

He's got this Merseybeat combo. They're rubbish.

Right, you bastards, I'll be back in five minutes. Keep practising.

You, don't go in there.

Major, can I have a word?

Sir, we've got to be in Great Yarmouth by six.

-If we don't head off now, we're buggered.

-That's up to Joe.

-I haven't seen daylight for two days.

-Well, believe me, it hasn't changed much.

He's got this track that don't make sense.

He'll have us banging on until we miss the Billy Fury gig. It's not rational.

He has been terribly moody.

-And after what happened to Billy...

-Greedy little bastard.

No-one gets royalties. You're all on session fees. Seven pounds, six shillings.

Does that include being attacked with scissors and thrown down the stairs?

-I would have chucked him out a window.

-He could have killed him. How do you think Alan feels?

-He's Billy's replacement. What will happen to him?

-Oh, cheers!

Or any of us. Well, except blond rinse upstairs.

Which is another thing. He's treated like Presley and fucking clueless.

-He don't know a flat from a house.

-Are you quite finished?

Yeah.

Then let me remind you that Joe is your recording manager.

And as such, he will decide when he records and with whom.

And I should think that you could afford yourself a little faith in his judgement.

This whole Merseybeat thing, it's a fad.

But good luck with the demo, and please, send my love to the boys.

Bye now.

Leyton has buggered off to Hollywood, and Joe is still searching for the next hit.

Not just for himself, but for all of us.

So when you're down at the pub or playing darts or whatever it is

you boys do, Joe is working.

Constantly working. The boy's a genius.

So if your feelings are hurt, it is of very little consequence to me.

Do I make myself clear?

Yes.

Good. Carry on, then.

Patrick, if that northern idiot calls back, tell him I'm busy.

-Anything to report?

-Poor Brian.

He's a lovely man, but he don't have a clue what the kids want.

PATRICK!!

Well, I'll be leaving, then. Just thought I'd pop round.

-And spy.

-I just wanted to see where all those tapes were going.

Well, surprise, I'm recording with them.

-Of course you are. Goodbye.

-Joe?

-Call Geoff. I need him here.

-Yes, chief.

-Have you got any of me sweeties? I'm going to finish this track if it kills me.

-You should get some sleep.

-Dexies?

-Take the money out of petty cash.

-I did.

-You said that yesterday.

-Oh, you are good.

-It's nice to have someone I can trust.

-Coffee?

-Oh, lovely.

Right, let's hear it.

-Hear what?

-Oh, don't start. Bum, titty, bum, twang, twang, twang.

Good. Right, keep playing till I say stop.

SHOUTING Right, that's it. Stop. Alan, stop.

-Are you sure?

-Yeah.

DISTORTED REVERBERATION

-Why have you stopped?

-What the fuck was that silly noise?

-Oh, that's just for the intro.

-It's bollocks.

-Why don't you play it?

-I'm going to Yarmouth.

-What?

You've still got the piano or whatever the fuck part it is to put down yet.

-For your information, Geoff is on his way to play the keyboard.

-Geoff?

That daft prat?

How dare you!

All that song from beyond the grave bollocks. It's embarrassing.

Yeah, but it happens to be true.

I'll tell you what is true,

I'm calling this recording session to an end.

Sorry, Joe. I'm not letting everyone cop it because

you've got some silly bollocks idea that sounds like a lump of dog shit.

-Oi, gormless, we're going!

-What? Oh, yeah.

You ungrateful bastard!

Right, go on then, fuck off, you fat bitch!

-And you, you communist cunt!

-Sorry, strictly speaking,..

-Fuck off!

-..I'm not really a member of...

-Fuck off! Fuck off!

Fuck off! Fuck off!

-Oh, you've got your new suit?

-Yeah, do you like it?

-It's lovely.

Yeah, pucker, innit?

-Ta.

-I like that tie. That's a nice touch.

-Yeah?

You must bring an umbrella, it might rain, you must watch your hair.

All right, Mum!

No, you're right, I don't want to get my hair fluffy.

Yeah, all right, then. See you.

Bye.

Bye, guy. Gotta fly.

Don't he look stunning?

Very smart.

-Geoff is on his way.

-Good.

SPACE SOUND EFFECTS

Joe, there's a storm brewing.

A good omen.

SOUND EFFECTS CONTINUE

It's going to rain.

Joe?

Joe?

Joe?

-Geoff, it came to me in a dream.

-What?

The solo slot before Billy Fury comes on.

Those ungrateful Tornado bastards. They just don't understand.

I do. Joe, it's raining, there's a storm.

-Just like when I recorded Johnny.

-Good omen.

So, what's the track called?

-The Theme Of Telstar.

-Ooh. What is it? Telstar?

-I've heard of that.

-It's a satellite. The miracle of science.

It picks up invisible rays from the other side of the world,

then it beams them back to Earth.

-Like the ether.

-Yes, like the ether. But...it's science.

PLAYS A SINGLE NOTE ON THE CLAVIOLINE

Right, so. We lift off.

# Do, do, do

# Do, do, do, do, do, do. #

Then we go up to space.

# Do, do, do, do, do, do, do

# Do... # No.

# ..Do, do, doooo... #

That's it. Then we hover. # ..Do, do, do, do do... #

Then we look down at Earth at all the humans.

# ..Do, do, do, do, do

# Do, do, do, do, do... #

That's what looking at humans would sound like.

I like that. Play it again.

GEOFF PLAYS THE CLAVIOLINE

And... # Do, do, do, do, do do, do, do, do

-# Do, do, do

-Do, do, do, do, do

# Do, do, do, do, do... # Very bold, Joe.

-That's it. Do you want to hear the demo?

-No.

MUSIC: "Telstar"

Ladies and gentlemen, The Tornados!

APPLAUSE AND CHEERING

MUSIC: Telstar by The Tornados

'Leaping up to the top spot,

'it's Billy Fury's backing band. In at number one with Telstar...'

I've got the biggest picture for a reason.

Yeah. It's cos I front the band. Right?

That means that all the responsibility is on me.

I understand that part of today's press conference

is being relayed by the Telstar communications satellite.

I suppose you'll be moving out now. Onwards and upwards.

God only knows how I'm going to let that place again.

Well, I don't think I'll be going anywhere just yet.

Truth is I've made a little home here.

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

Your very own gold disc, Joe. Congratulations.

I got me the best band in the world.

It gives me great pleasure in presenting this unprecedented

second gold disc to songwriter and producer Mr Joe Meek.

Two million copies!

And the winner of the 1963 Ivor Novello Award is of course

the writer and producer of Telstar, Mr Joe Meek.

APPLAUSE

I'd like to say a very special thank you to a very special person.

Some of you may know her as Biddy but I doubt it. I know her as Mum.

-APPLAUSE

-Thank you, Mum.

Merry Christmas, guys and gals.

That was the Billboard Chart this Christmas.

And here is the nation's holiday number one,

topping the US charts for the first time ever, it's a British band.

Telegram for you, Mr Meek.

I hope it's good news, sir.

Thank you, sir.

..from our record-breaking number one, Telstar.

And here to join me now, the one and only Mr Billy Fury.

SCREAMING AND CHEERING

Well done, son.

MUSIC STARTS

# Play it cool, baby

# Play it cool... #

Here we come!

CHEERING AND WHOOPING

Yay-hey!

Hey-hey! Hey-hey!

All right, my boy!

Ha-ha! Ha-ha!

Telstar!

Yes! Oh, yes!

BOTH: Don't mind if I do!

THEY LAUGH

You know, when I was a little boy back in Gloucester,

I had a terrible accident with some phosphorous.

Some had been left by the local Home Guard.

And I discovered that if you put some on your hands and clap,

there'd be a little puff of smoke.

Of course, I thought I'd discovered something wonderful.

So, I put a small lump in my palm and I clapped ever so hard.

And there was this tremendous explosion

which knocked me off my little feet.

When I got back up, I discovered that my hands were terribly burnt.

Phosphorus was still burning.

It kept burning all the way home.

Until my dad, who was a veteran of the First World War,

put both my hands in a bowl of milk.

By then, my hands had been terribly burnt

so I was rushed to the hospital and the doctors told me

that I would never be able to move my hands again.

Well, there's nothing wrong with your hands.

That's because there was one doctor. A very special man.

Yeah?

-They're very clever, those doctors.

-Ah, they work miracles.

But this one doctor, this one special man...

..he saw there was a spark in this little boy.

He made the commitment to me because of that spark.

And I was committed to him.

These aren't the hands of a bass player.

-Right, who are you?

-John Hale. New Musical Express.

-Good.

Well, I'm very busy. I can't be long.

What do you say to people who accuse Telstar of being banal?

-It sold three million.

-What other artists do you supervise?

Well, I look after Screaming Lord Sutch.

He is touring the country at the moment. He's very, very colourful.

Very popular.

# Ah-ha, ha, ha!

# Ah-ha, ha, ha!

# Eh-eh, eh, ooh!

# Eh-eh, eh, ooh!

SCREAMING

And there's Cliff Bennett, Mike Berry, and the newest one is Heinz.

He's just cut his first solo disc since he left The Tornados.

He will be the biggest star in the country within a year.

Bigger than Cliff Richard.

Much bigger than that drunken streak of piss, Billy fucking Fury.

Oh! One to watch out for, then.

Who are your favourite artists?

I like modern jazz. Ella. And I love Judy Garland.

-Did you get my gold disc in the back?

-Yeah, mate, I'm getting them.

-And what is your future?

-I'd like to write a musical.

Joe? I thought the house was on fire!

SCREAMING

-Aaargh, that's disgusting!

-And cut!

What is that you're squirting on me?

Who's gonna pay for it to be cleaned?

What's he filming, anyway?

I'm making a little film to promote my artist.

He hasn't even got any instruments. You're a bunch of idiots.

Oh, fuck off, then!

Get your hands off me!

Jack The Ripper by Screaming Lord Sutch.

Out now with RGM Records.

That's Jack The Ripper by Screaming Lord Sutch, RGM Records.

That's RGM Records.

Well, the stunts just get better and better.

Made all the local press.

Now, look, I've been reading a book on psychology

-and people follow arrows, they just can't help it.

-Yeah?

So, what if we were to paint arrows on all the roads

and buildings around Piccadilly Circus, all pointing towards a shop.

A shop?

A shop where the record will be for sale

and Screaming Lord Sutch will be performing.

Aaaaargh!

A gig, in a shop?

Well, I think it's fucking ridiculous.

MUSIC PLAYS

-I won't do it.

-Don't be so narrow-minded.

# With his little black bag and his one track mind

# Well, he nearly catches up when the lights go down

# Cos that's the time he starts his dirty, uh, chop around

# When he walks down the streets to every girl he meets, he says

# Is your name Mary Blood?... # MUSIC FADES

BOOS AND JEERING

JEERING AND SHOUTING CONTINUES

Have that!

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

CHEERS AND WHISTLING

You fucking spivvy toe-rag.

Yeah, tosser. It's all round my suit.

I'd like to see you afford a suit like this, yeah! You cheap arsehole!

-Smiling now, are you? Yeah, you...

-Oi, oi!

Oi, Lightbulb!

How many watts is that head?

100? No, he ain't that bright!

Put that light out! Put that light out! Ha-ha!

Hey, I thought he was electric! Ha-ha!

JEERING AND SHOUTING

Just play the song, just play the song.

MUSIC STARTS

What do you mean "Gene"?

Well, you know, they've come to see Gene and Jerry Lee.

-They were hard, like, you know?

-You've got to win them over.

I can't.

When I walk out on stage, they call me a poof.

It's because of the hair,

and the suits.

Yeah, after the songs.

Yeah, it gets worse.

So, I'm at home in Southampton and I do what you said

about looking at a nice girl in the crowd

for Dreams Come True, like Gene does in Be Bop A Lula.

Only like, it was some bloke's bird.

And he decides to come and get me at stage door. My mum overheard.

It was only her tip-off what saved me, like.

She was a lot more scared than I was, of course.

Well, she would be, poor love.

Joe, sometimes I look at these two stars

and I can't believe I'm playing with them.

And other times... I wish I didn't have to.

Oh, you don't mean that!

Joe, they don't like me.

I mean what if...people... what if they just don't like me?

Confidence, that's all you need!

Come 'ere.

You are on tour with two rock and roll greats cos you've got talent.

I'm not wrong about that.

Now, I was going to keep this as a surprise

but just to help your confidence, I'm going to tell you now.

I have got two,

maybe three, TV slots lined up for you when your record comes out.

-You're joking.

-No.

-I'm going to be on the telly?

-Yeah.

Bloody Nora!

Now, I hope you've been watching those two

and learning something cos pretty soon you're going to be in everyone's front room

and you BETTER be ready for that, my lad.

Now, that's Marty Wilde. See the way he does it?

# I want you for my own... #

THAT'S what it's got to be like.

See the way he twitches his head?

That's pure rock and roll.

# There's always someone beside you

# Yes, there's always someone in your arms

# Little baby

# If only I had known... #

That was breathtaking. You carry on like that,

forget Gene and Jerry, you'll be bigger than Presley!

-That's silly.

-And I'm working on a big hit for you,

your very own Telstar cos you're going to be a big star.

You're my golden boy.

# Well, be bop a Lula she's my baby

# Be bop a Lula I don't mean maybe

# Be bop a Lula she's my baby doll

# My baby doll, my baby doll

# Well, she's the gal in the red blue jeans

# She's the queen of all the teens... #

I think my friend will like this one.

It's a much stronger aura, don't you think?

# She's the girl that loves me so

# Be bop a Lula she's my baby

# Be bop a Lula I don't mean maybe... #

HEAVY BREATHING AND PANTING

Excuse me, miss. My, what a pretty ranch you have here.

I'm Gene Vincent. You may have heard of me on your wireless. I'm travelling with my band here

and I wondered if we might make use of your splendid-looking water closet.

He means khazi.

-Mate, I've got to go first - I'm poking a hole through me trousers.

-What?

Fuck's sake.

-Here comes Bean Boy.

-He'll be in there half an hour.

He's going to stink the place out.

I only wanted a slash.

Hey, boys - watch this.

Oi, gormless - they've gone without you!

-What?

-Have that!

Do you like, Chas?

HEINZ GIGGLES MANICALLY

-Do you want some coffee, Gene?

-No thanks, kid.

-Proper stuff.

GIGGLES

HE LAUGHS

Every bloody time.

-It's not funny.

-It's quite funny.

CHAS LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY

You wanker!

Excuse me, love.

Have you got any more eggs?

# I'm beginning to see the light, now

# I need you day and night, now

# Whoa, whoa, don't let go

# Temptation, baby

# When I see you struttin' by

# You're makin' me feel so good now... #

-What d'you say, Lightbulb?

-Fuck off!

THEY LAUGH

-You wanker!

-Fuck off!

-See you later, Lightbulb.

-Bastard!

Fucking ha fucking ha!

Oi, you fat bastard!

-Oh, my...

-Fucking yes!

Fucking bastards!

Where did you learn to pitch like that?

I was always good at cricket!

# When I see you struttin' by... #

HORN BLARES

# Ho-wow, I love you so

# Temptation baby... #

-LOUD BANG

-What's that?

That fat nutter's throwing bricks at the bus!

Get out of here quick!

He's getting closer! Put your foot down!

Oh, never mind that, here's the bizzies! Slow down!

# Temptation baby

# Say wo-oh-wo-oh

# Temptation baby

# Say wo-oh-wo-oh

# Temptation baby. #

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

There's a lad Tom downstairs. I think you'll like him,

he has a very distinctive voice and he's very striking.

-Don't you ever knock?

-Sorry.

-You're late.

-Sorry.

-Shall I bring him up?

-Who?

Tom, the lad from Wales I just told you about.

-No, send him home, I'm busy.

-He's come such a long way.

He'll know the way back then, won't he? I'm running a business, Geoff, not a dating agency.

-I didn't think it would upset you.

-It hasn't upset me, I'm just busy.

I suppose I could've brought him to the seance this evening.

Ah, yes, the seance. Listen, Geoff,

-I'm going to Wolverhampton tonight for Heinz's gig.

-Oh.

And Lionel's going to be driving me. But speaking of Heinz,

how's that new big hit for him, how's it coming on?

-I've had some ideas.

-Mm.

-I thought perhaps another tribute song.

-But not Buddy Holly this time, maybe Eddie Cochran.

-When can I hear it?

I've not started it...yet.

But I have got you something.

Geoff, we're supposed to be working.

-It's our anniversary.

-Pardon?

We've been writing together for 18 months.

-It was yesterday that I realised.

-Not even engraved.

-No.

I only realised yesterday. I didn't have time.

Men.

I hold in my hand a piece of paper.

Unlike Mr Chamberlain's,

this is a summons to appear in the Chippenham Magistrates Court.

-Do we get top billing?

-THEY SNICKER

We could all do without your vulgar musical turns, Mr Hodges.

BILLY SNICKERS

So, dreadful clerical mistake

or am I owed some sort of explanation?

-It was his idea.

-You dirty fucking sneak.

The court is now in session.

Judge Wignall presiding. All stand.

You don't get half bored sat in the back of a van.

Well, perhaps a book would've been less disruptive.

-Rude, though.

-Sorry?

Sat there in a van, reading.

It's like your ignoring your mates.

A unique sociological observation

but a rather feeble excuse, Mr Blackmore.

The court will call Mr Richard Miles.

Should we receive a hefty fine, it shall be met by your wages.

Were I on the bench, I'd have you flogged.

Please take the Bible in your right hand and read from the card.

And who started this silly game?

-Vincent.

-Chas, a word?

Gene Vincent, for God's sake, don't mention him when you get up there.

-Lightbulb, fucking Lightbulb.

-What?!

Is it a fucking joke? You do not take the piss out of my top act.

CHAS GROANS

I'm really sorry. But just hear my side.

Quickly.

I'll make a few jokes and, no pun intended, defuse the situation.

I'd rather risk a slap from Mr Osram there than a face full of stitches.

-PROSECUTOR:

-Were you aware of who did this to you?

-All right.

I've got a joke for you.

What do you get if you cross Joe Meek?

Fired.

Yes, there.

Fair enough. It won't happen again.

Dear God.

Gene Vincent was in an uninsured van,

attacking the residents of Shrewsbury.

It's not our job to get insurance, we're the fucking passengers!

-Shut it!

-Silence in court!

-CHAS:

-Oh, me balls.

If you weren't so tight-fisted, I wouldn't have to penny pinch and the van would've been insured.

Well, that of course is of no help.

And while we're on the subject of fiduciary matters,

I am somewhat concerned about the amount being spent on Heinz.

-Photo shoots and posters and clothes and...

-That boy!

He's the only one of you pigs that don't want anything from me.

MUSIC: "Just Like Eddie" by Heinz And The Saints

# Woo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

# Woo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

# Whenever I'm sad Whenever I'm blue

# Whenever my troubles are heavy

# Beneath the stars I play my guitar

# Just like Eddie

# Woo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

# Woo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

# Whenever you're sad Whenever you're blue

# Whenever your troubles are heavy

# Beneath the stars You play your guitars

# Just like Eddie

# Woo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

# Woo-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

# Come on everybody... #

Note, sir.

Thought it might be important.

Patrick! Find him, it's bloody important.

I don't care what he's doing.

This is bollocks.

No, this is serious.

This French composer bloke is claiming Telstar was stolen

from his film score.

-I've never even heard of this French bastard, Bernard.

-Thanks, Geoff.

Mum's the word, yeah?

I have just won the Ivor Novello Award!

-I'm going back to bed.

-I'm sorry, Joe.

The Major says the matter's quite severe. You're being sued.

Hurry up, keep lookout.

OFFICER TUTS

Why don't we step outside, eh?

CROWD CHEERING

-Fantastic.

-That was great, they were ecstatic.

Stay out of my light.

I'm the star of the show, so stay out of my fucking light.

And don't play so fast. And you, fatboy, building a shed in there?

Sounds like it.

-Oi!

-Hey, lighten up, mate, I thought it went all right.

If you say one word to me, on-stage or off-stage again,

you're off the tour. Got it?

All right, laughing boy.

Sounded all right, how did it go?

You two, tarts, fuck off. What's your game, then?

Whoa, whoa, lighten up. What's the matter with you?

-I saw you nicking my act.

-Do what?

You know what I'm talking about, standing on top of the piano.

That's my act, get your own fucking moves!

JESS LAUGHS You dozy prat.

We've all nicked the fucking act.

It's Presley's act, we've all nicked it.

Sorry, ladies, the gentleman was just leaving.

You what?!

Allow me to rephrase.

This tone deaf, peroxide nancy boy

ponce was just on his way out the door.

Get your fucking hands off me, know who I am?

Argh!

-CHAS:

-Go on!

-CLEM:

-Go on. Go on, Jess!

I'll show you some fucking moves!

HEINZ SCREAMS

You bit my nose off!

You are off the tour as of now and you are never to...

SCREAMS INCOHERENTLY

-You heard what he said. Fuck off.

-You what?

-Fuck off and take these two slags with ya.

-What about my whistles?

-Don't worry about that. Fuck off!

-Ladies. Gentlemen.

-See ya, Jeff.

-See ya later.

-See ya soon, mate.

-Well, that was really clever(!)

-Well done.

-Yeah, brilliant.

-Brilliant. Yeah. You fucking wanker.

-Fuck off.

-Idiot.

Oh, look, the lawyer's here.

Robert George Meek, you will appear at 9.00am at Highgate magistrates

on charges of importuning, sir.

If you do not have counsel, we will appoint counsel for you.

Thank you for a wonderful evening.

PHONE RINGS

Islington police station.

In the papers, uh!

What about my poor mother?

Lionel, what about home? Oh.

It's Jeff on the phone, he can't make it either.

He's taking his mum to the doctors.

Having a good clear out then? That's good.

I've put some toast on. Do you want tea?

Coffee it is.

-It's paranoia.

-He's just being careful.

-He's just being mental.

No-one is spying on him. It's all in his head.

My idea has somehow ended up on the wireless?

-You think someone's stealing tapes?

-Or worse.

And all that pledging allegiance bollocks, it's like being in the fucking Scouts.

-"Akela, we..."

-No, that's the Cubs.

My point is, no-one's bugging the place, are they?

He's just making everyone else as paranoid as he is.

How should I know?

You could be throwing us off the scent. You could be the spy?

-I fucking ask you.

-I'm not saying you are, I'm just saying you could be.

He thinks we're all talking about him behind his back!

We are!

-I can hear talking in there and I don't want to.

-Sorry, Joe.

-Sorry, Joe.

All right. 1, 2, 3 and then drop.

Oh, bollocks.

Why are we doing this?

-Novelty Records always get to No 1, don't they?

-Yeah.

Well, I ain't a novelty musician.

He's just trying to get us another hit so we can all get paid.

Well, some of us are doing all right, aren't they? Who had the last hit?

Mr blond rinse with his Eddie business. That was months ago.

Top Ten, No 5, mate.

There's no way that that record made the money that Joe has spent on him.

No way! I'm not just talking about publicity. He's got a fucking boat!

I mean, Adam Faith hasn't even got a boat.

There's me, my arse is hanging out of my trousers

and he's poncing about on a boat.

So what's your point?

My point is. If that's where all the money's going,

there's little chance of us getting paid, is there?

Especially not dropping marbles in a fucking khazi.

-I'm ready for another take.

-1...

# Three coins in the sewer

# They fell down the drain... #

It's your turn to fish them out.

CRASH

Don't panic Napoleon, I'm just looking for my fags.

Look, there. Woodbines.

-Woodbines in a bass drum.

-For fuck's sake!

-In a bass drum.

Yeah, I've been poking around with your echoes and stealing your tapes

-and I live in a big fucking house with Phil fucking Spector.

-Why?

Clem, why?

You are going mad.

Can't you see what you are doing? You're ruining this for all of us.

Get out you fucking Judas.

-You tone deaf, mad old bastard!

-Go on then, fuck off!

You see if you can get a gig once I put the word out on you.

I already am, mate. I'm doing this new band The Kinks on Wednesday. They're really fucking good.

The Kinks, my arse!

Go on, fuck off and play with those nobodies! You fat bitch!

SMASHING

I'm sorry, it's the neighbours.

Em, I think you'll find if you arrive at any hotel with this,

you'll be treated with great care and courtesy.

Do you want to buy a handbag? Go on then, darling. Go on then.

And of course underneath, there is space for all your essentials and intimates.

I'm sorry. My mum was having her bad toe off.

I pledge allegiance to RGM and everyone who works here.

-Who are they?

-That's Blaikley and Howard.

What are we recording?

Snakeskin bag at a specially reduced...

Brenda - I mean, Miss Murphy. We're going to try elsewhere.

-But I...

-But you promised me a snakeskin,

-otherwise I never would have let you do that.

-Shut up, shush!

BANGING

-You dirty old bastard.

-Give her one for me, eh!

Ah! Ah! Stop it! Stop it! Stop!

No, I'm not having this. Stop it, stop it, stop! Argh!

-Where's Joe?

-I'm afraid Joe doesn't...

-Balls, where is he?

Oh, I'm sorry, sorry!

Right everyone, I think I've got everything I need, go and get a cup of tea, go on.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Honey, you look lovely

Well done, boys, you've written a hit!

Thanks, Joe.

See you in the charts!

Alan, vino before the opera.

Oh, 5:30.

Honestly, Joe! You just frightened off two of my customers!

-It was just the chorus.

-I don't care what it was.

This spot's always been good for passing trade.

We've got a lovely gold leaf polished window.

Since that thing in the papers.

Business is slow and there's no polite way of putting this, Joe,

-you're over a month in arrears with the rent.

-Really?

That's the Major's department.

-The man is a crook, I'm sorry to be harsh, but there it is.

-Really?

I'll see what I can do about the rent.

I'll see if I can do something about those rough boys.

I don't see how!

They've been sent by the other record companies

to try and put me off.

-They know I'm going to have another big hit soon, you see.

-Really, Joe?

It was them that engineered that horrible court case against me.

I would never do a thing like that.

How many of those boys do you recognise from 'round here?

-Here's your tea.

-Oh Patrick!

You're very kind, thank you.

You had my brother.

He was only 16, I'll go to the pigs and tell 'em about scum like you. We know where you live.

Of course he knows where I live! He sent me a letter! Bin!

Another one. A photo!

Of you in Hampstead Heath. Does Billy know?

He's done his homework. Send him a fiver. Next.

We have returned invoices from the Major.

He wants to see a breakdown of expenses spent on Heinz.

-Tight-fisted pig.

-Particularly boat.

It's an asset. It's good press. No-one's got a boat.

Not even Adam Faith has got a boat.

-Send in those photos of Heinz fishing.

-I don't know about that.

-He's returned the invoice for the photo session.

-I'll call him later.

-Next.

-"I hope you rot in hell. I hope you see your loved ones

-"scream in agonising pain..."

-That's a bit strong!

-What do they want?

-Nothing. It's from the neighbours.

-Yeah, well, I may have a new backer.

-Really?

-Mmm.

And as soon as my royalties from Telstar arrive,

I will buy you out completely.

I see. I'm very sorry to hear that, Joe.

I genuinely like you and I'm going to give you a piece of advice.

Spreading yourself so thin before you are really established

is more than a risk. It is, to be frank,

simple bloody-minded stupidity.

Don't you dare talk to me like that! I am not one of your lackeys.

I'm talking to you as a friend, Joe. You're a terrible businessman.

I dread to think what will happen to you

if no-one's watching the purse-strings.

Don't you talk to me about business.

My band is number one in America

and you can't get them out of the Billy Fury contract to tour there.

Where was your business acumen then?

Joe.

I am your partner, not your boss.

Unfortunately, you had everything to do with that contract.

You signed it, I did not.

So until your mystery backer coughs up or your royalties arrive,

we shall remain partners.

That is what my business acumen tells me.

Good day.

Stupid idiot.

All right? How you doing, mate?

DOOR CLOSES

-Hello, Geoff.

-Where's everyone else?

Oh. It's just you and Joe today. He's up top.

There has been a lot of criticism of late.

People have been saying that RGM has been sounding old-fashioned.

Maybe it's because of your classical training,

or maybe you've been spending too much time on your psychic studies,

but the point is, you've been letting the side slip

and I can't allow it to happen any more.

Am I...?

Joe, are you firing me?

-Well, you can't write songs if you're not here.

-I got scared.

Those boys downstairs, I'm not from London, they sense that.

Friend in need, Geoff.

If my work is so old-fashioned,

then why are you recording one of my old tunes?

The song is by my two new boys, it's got nothing to do with you.

Oh, so you didn't steal it? That would be a first!

No!

Fucking...!

You're just jealous because they showed you up

in your fucking job!

Let's hope they don't have to write for your pretty, tone-deaf pudding!

Who always sings the guide track?

-I'm normally louder on the record than he is!

-Oh, fuck off, Geoff.