George, when we were rehearsing it, was going ‘Hey Jude,’ [big guitar riff] dang-diddle-da-da, ‘don’t make it bad,’ dang-diddle-da-da … ‘George, do us a favour, man. Don’t play it. We’ll have a solo later or something, but don’t answer every phrase, it’s gonna get boring very soon.’ [Sullen] ‘OK. Fuckin’ won’t do it then.’ It was getting like that. Locked horns. Young males was what it was. Now, knowing animals, stallions and rams, I know they’re all at it. If they come of age, locked horns, it’s what they do.
