Blood on the Tracks is a production of I Heart Radio and Double Elvis. John Lennon was a musical genius and one of the most beloved cultural figures of the twentieth century. His songs inspired dreamers to imagine, his search for the truth gave power to the people. But some thought he dreamed too much. Others thought he was too powerful. So he was followed, he was threatened, he was declared a danger to the United States, and in night he was assassinated. This is his story told by his so
called friends. This is special Agent Jim Steele with the Federal Bureau of Investigation work in case number double oh nine dash zero eight dash zero four nine one case subject of Glennon, John Winston oh No. This information pertains to a period and in December seven interview subject as Yuko own Oh Lennon interview number zero dash zero two DATS zero six one dash nine one. Recall number one December.
If John Lenning was assassinated, they did a hell of a job, just like the job they did on John F. Kennedy. That was a hell of a job. They've gotten rid of so many of the great ones over the years. You know, if Mark David Jackman was a dupe, like the Harvey Oswald was that he was the perfect people. They couldn't have picked the crazier guy. John was about to start the talking. He was about to become active again, not just with music but publicly. It's the perfect time
to get rid of him. It's certainly a possibility. And if it wasn't the government, there were others that could have worried about the picture. People felt threatened, who felt betrayed, people who let a grudge, maybe a spiritual bludge or political blutch. Well, no, bros, don't we I know I've got a few, God knows, I know a thing or two about threats and grudges and all that messing stuff, the stuff that leaves so much the tracks. Chapter three,
John Lennon and Phil Specter. H fuck John Lennon. There I said it. It had to be said. Who else is gonna say it? You've thought it, you just wouldn't dare say it out loud. But I'll dare. Why Because I gave John opportunity after opportunity, each one better than the last, And the more I tried to help him, the more ungrateful he became. Look, I know he was a Beatle, but I'm Phil Specter. Okay, the playing field is at least even. Look, it's the nineteen seventies. John
didn't want to be a Beatle. Fine, it's a free country. I'm assuming it's a free country over in England, too free enough to not be a Beatle if you don't want to be, So what are you gonna do when you decide to throw in the towel on the biggest band and on the planet. You've got to reinvent yourself, right, Okay? Also fine, John spent the nineteen seventies distancing himself from the Beatles, but he didn't know who the hell he
wanted to be. Next working class hero. Please. If he was working class, then I made bare bones Folk Records with a nylon string guitar. This is the guy who just had to call his record company to get ten thousand dollars and walking around money bam, just like that when he came out to l a look takes one to know one, Okay. The point is John Lennon didn't know what he wanted one and doubt fuck it. And then I walked in and I showed him what he could be. I flew out to England and we made
Plastic Ono Band and imagine they're great fucking records. They didn't just give John a glimpse of who he could be. They also proved that I could play against Type two and make a lean, emotional statement that didn't have giant band behind it. He liked what we did on those records so much that once he was living in the United States, he flew out to l A to make another record with me. Don't let Yoko tell you different.
That's why he came out there. It's true that he and Yoko were going through a tough time, but the time he spent in l A was because he was there to make a record with me, not because Yoko ordered him to go to the other side of the country just to blow the cobwebs out of his brain. Ask May Pang, she'll back me up. May was John's assistant and also his travel companion, and also the woman he carried on an affair with while he and Yoko
were on the rocks. This is the start of the period that everyone calls the Lost Weekend, even though it wasn't a weekend. It was eighteen long months of estrangement between those two and there was nothing lost about it, honestly. I mean yeah, John spent most of it high as ship, but we were all high as ship. Excuse me, are you? Mr Phil Specter? Look, it's been a real bad day. Could you come back in April. That's why the l A sessions were a bit of a disaster. Everyone was stoned.
We drank directly out of vodka bottles. And it was a record that John was essentially forced to make by Maurice Levy. Of all people, you didn't funk around with Maurice Levy. He knew guys. He was tied to the mob. He owned Birdland in New York City and also Roulette Records. He owned some record store chain to Strawberries, but some of his most prized possessions were the publishing rights to songs like Chuck Berry's you Can't Catch Me. He sued John for repurposing one of the lines from that song
and come Together. Okay, you know this whole story, it's boring, bing bang boom. We're making a record entirely of songs that Maurice Levy owns the publishing rights too, so that Marice Levy can make a lot of money off it. When it's released. That's the agreement that he and John came to. I didn't care what we were recording. It was John Lennon, okay, So I knew it was gonna make money no matter what. And also we were recording
an album of rock and roll standards. We were going to call it oldies, but Moldi's stuff from the fifties. That's my bag. Man. People said I lived in the past, that I wouldn't let the past go, and then John Lennon comes along and validates my living in the past. It was too good. Plus I had what I wanted, control of those sessions me. John had put me in control. He didn't want control. He trusted me to steer the ship to take his career to the next place. He
just wanted to be the singer in a band. He wanted to be told what to do. Phil so a big chance today and m now, let's not fuck it. He told me, Phil, I just want to be Ronnie. You do everything else. He was referring, of course, to my wife at the time, Ronnie Specter, who sang lead in the Ronets back in the sixties. If only he had just stuck with the plan, If only he had just trusted me. See, the sessions in Los Angeles were
my sessions. Okay, it was my money and my time, and so as far as I was concerned, I owned those master tapes. He says. I held the tapes hostage. I was just protecting what was rightfully mine. When I realized the whole thing was going to ship because the sessions were fucked up, there was this damn bird at the window, and then there were more noises coming from outside, always just bleeding into the studio. And then the bass player got into a car wreck, and then I got
into a car wreck. And the whole time, John still doesn't know what he wants to be doing with his life. I'm gonna be a nine year old. There were some good times, the kind of times I can barely remember. You know they were good when you can't remember. The sessions would spill out into the l a nightlife. We hit the restaurants, drunk and stoned and make a scene. Jesse Ed came with us. That's Jesse d a us fucking great guitar player. This one night we were at
the Brasserie and Sunset Plaza. I remember being under the dining table with John giggling like a couple of teenagers with their first whiffs of reefer. I'd shake up a champagne bottle and tell John to open wide. He would, and I'd popped the cork out of the bottle and shoot champagne right in his face. Meanwhile, Jesse Ed is drunkenly trying to reassure the restaurants staff and the other
customers that everything is all right. Don't worry. It's just a beatle and the world's most famous record producer rolling around on the floor covered in champagne. Right. John and I eventually emerged from under the table and got on top of the table. I think I had put some carrot sticks in my ears. John was laughing so hard I thought he'd puke. I yelled, hey, John, watch this, and I did this backflip off the table. I mean, I thought I did a graceful backflip. I don't think
I'd ever attempted a backflip before that moment. All I did was bend the funk out of my back midair, and before my body could rotate the full sixty degrees, I hit my head off the goddamn floor and I bit down on my tongue. That was where the fun ended. That night. My head hurt, my tongue was swollen. It's like, what do you call it? A metaphor. It's like a metaphor for me and John. It was all fun and
games until somebody got hurt and I got hurt. I don't know what Yoko told you, but I'm guessing she didn't tell you a real reason why she and John were in the United States in the first place. I know the real reason. It was Yoko's daughter, ki Yoko. Yoko's ex husband, Tony Cox. He was hiding out here, there, and everywhere with Kiyoko and wasn't allowing Yoko to see her or talk to her. He eventually made his way to Houston, of all places, with Kyoko and his new wife.
So Yoko wanted to be in the US to hunt down her ex husband in order to see your daughter. Now. Shortly before Tony went to Houston, Kei and Yoko had a shared custody arrangement when it came to Kiyoko, but Tony was more than a little wary of John and Yoko's lifestyle. He was concerned that the way they lived was an appropriate environment for a child. He even started
to worry that Yoko would keep Kiyoko from him. And there was a car wrex somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, I believe, when Kiyoko and John's son Julian were in the car. Anyway, Tony got squirrely. First he decided that he had to be present when Kyoko was with John and Yoko. And then one day Tony disappeared and he took Kiyoko with him. Kyoko was seven at the time. Someone close to both parties told John and Yoko that Tony had decamped to Malorca, Majorca whatever, that that Spanish island.
He was there for some spiritual guidance courtesy of some yogi or shaman or whatever the fuck. And so you know what John and Yoko did. They went after them. They went to get Kiyoko. It was March or April. John and Yoko flew out to the island. They had to charter their own flight. They got there in Yoko called Tony. Tony agreed to meet with her, but only if she came alone. This is around the time that John learns that Tony is shacking up with this Maharishi
guy and ship. Well, you know about John and Maharishi's. There are a bunch of phonies in John's eyes, so no doubt John c's read when he hears this, not really for any other reason than he really doesn't like Maharishi's. Yoko does some recon and finds Kiyoko is at a school nearby, like a place for the kiddies to be while the adults all achieve higher consciousness or whatever. So she gets John and another friend of theirs, Dan Richter, and the three of them sneak into the place in
broad daylight. It's like the fucking Great Escape. They were literally crouching, sneaking through doors and across halways, being extra careful that they're not found out by any adults working there. Or maybe worse, some kids screams out that there's these two strangers skulking around a fucking kindergarten. Now, according to
who you believe, one of two things happened. Either Yoko spots Kiyoko playing in a group of kids, and when their eyes locked, Kiyoko runs into her mother's outstretched arms like any seven year old who has been taken away from their mother would, Or it was Dan Richter, John and Yoko's aiding and a betting friend who made the daring kidnap of Kyoko. Because look, that's what it was.
They kidnapped Kyoko. One of the teachers screams out loud. John, Yoko, and Dan high tailed it out of the school with Kyoko in their arms. They got to their car, which was parked right outside. John and Yoko jump in the back seat with Kiyoko, and Dan drove. You've got to think that reality was setting in hard for all of
them at this point. John and Yoko are literally on the floor of the back seat, Kiyoko in their arms, freaking out, and Kiyoko was realizing that she's been taken from her father, and you've got Dan driving this hot mess around. Cops found them at John and Yoko's hotel suite. Later that night, John and Yoko were arrested, Dan Richter disappeared, Kyoko went back to Tony Cox, and then Alan Klein flew in, you know, the Beatles business manager who was
busy screwing them all over. So Alan came in and took over, and thanks to him, John and Yoko didn't do time in a Spanish prison or anything. A few years later, when John was in l A and we were attempting to make that rock and roll record. His first son, Julian, came out to visit. Julian lived with his mother back in England. John didn't see him all that much. I know it was hard for John, and I know all the drama surrounding Kiyoko only added to the conflict of feelings he had as a parent who
wasn't a regular part of his kid's life. Relationships with John could be strange. They'd start fine and then they'd sour, or like in Julian's case, they started off rocky and got better as the years went on. I mean ship John threatened to have his own father shot, his body dumped out at sea. I ain't kidding, man. John got cozy with the Maharishi and then things went south. He bought into the primal scream guy jam and off when we were doing that Plastic Go No Band album, and
then turned his back on it. He was all buddy buddy with John Sinclair and Bobby Seal and all those radicals, and then thought better about it and shut his yap when it came to politics. So when he accused me of stealing the tapes, of the oldies. But Moldy sessions my tapes. Remember I knew where the relationship was going. John no longer wanted me around, I guess, so we
made a deal and both got what we wanted. I got ninety grand from a Capitol Records exact and exchange for handing the tapes over, and John got to move on without me. But what really pisces me off is that John Lennon would then go on to use me use my name as an excuse for why his record wasn't done. When Mars Levy and his tough guys came calling, we'll be right back after this world, World, World, Maurice Levy told John they had to meet in the fall
of nine. Maurice Levy wanted to know where the funk his record was. He was waiting to reap the royalties from all those rock and roll tunes. He owned the publishing rights too. Remember, he had given John a break and decided not to sue his ask for millions of dollars. But this was the compromise. John had to make the record, but the record was late. John was late. Now John had just gotten the tapes back from me, and the sessions had been such a drunken mess that only a
handful of songs could be salvaged for release. Is that my problem? I did what I was told, I took control and told everyone what to do. But you know, people don't listen, and then when they do listen, there's a goddamn bird outside the window, or someone rams into your car, and that lays you up in bed for weeks. So Maurice Levy tells John to meet him at Club Cavallero, fifty eighth Street, New York City, right between Fifth and Madison. God, let me tell you, I don't miss New York City.
But John was back in New York, still on his so called lost weekend trip, shacking up with May Pang in an apartment while Yoko skulked in their place at the Dakota, was probably trying to figure out if she would ever take him back. His affair with May was full blown, and as usual, I don't think he knew what the funk he wanted. So John went to Club Cavallero and brought May with him along with his lawyer,
this guy Harold Sada Maurice Levy on the Cavallero. Now, I told you before that Mars knows guys he had ties to organized crime for years, though no one would be able to prove it until much later. At least five federal grand juries are investigating allegations of mafia involvement in the music business, and Tuesday, a grand jury in Newark, New Jersey, returned to one seventeen count indictment against people, including Marius Levy, a powerful figure in the music business
who owns record companies and record stores. He was a shady guy. He would find ways to give himself writing credit on a song, even though he'd never written a bar of music in his goddamn life, so that he could get richer and richer off the artists who worked for him. When it came to running his label, Roulette Records, he ran it like a mob boss. You've heard of Payola, right, Well,
this ship was like Paola or Elsa. He'd grabbed the latest Roulette forty five, pick up a couple of fancy prostitutes in his nice car, and then drive to meet with disc jockeys. Morris would give them the new Roulette singles along with an envelope of cash, let the DJ's party with the prostitutes, and in return Roulette singles would get significant airplay. If you were a DJ and Mars Levy worked you over like that with some dough and
a plain white envelope and some ready willing hookers. Holy shit, man, you'd better play those fucking records, because if you didn't, Morris would come back, and this time he'd bring some guys on the payroll who enjoyed breaking kneecaps with baseball bats. There is no connection between the mob and the music business. John knew this. He knew who he was dealing with when he walked into Club Cavallero. He was walking into
a meeting with a disappointed Maurice Levy. John had to deal with this guy to release a record, and John delayed the release, and then he wound up releasing an entirely different album while the tapes for this project sat on a shelf and gathered dust. John was in breach of his contract with Maurice Levy. No bueno. He was greeted inside the Cavallero by some of Marris's guys, big guys who barely fit into their polo shirts, and they all sat on either side of him at this horse
shaped table inside. There was no way out for John, they could do whatever the hell they wanted to him. What's he gonna do to Morris's place? Morris's guys, Morris's rules only in America? Am I right? You think? At some point along the way, John thought, why don't I just go back to England, you know, because America's nuts man.
So after a few minutes of awkward conversation with these cronies, mars Levy finally walks in the room, sits down at the table, and asks John point blank, what's the fucking problem? And guess what? He throws me under the bus, says, it's all my fault. I'm the problem. Phil Specter, he called me a loon, said I was out of my mind that I came and went, that I couldn't control the players, that I shot a gun off in the studio, which, okay,
I'll admit that did happen, But listen, shit happens. John tried to buy off Morris Levy, or rather his lawyer, Harold Sayer did. Harold asked Morris if a cool two grand would smooth things over? Can you believe that John tried to Maurice Levy? Maurice Levy, I'm sure Mars just laughed at that offer. John Lennon was on the hook brother, whether he liked it or not. And you know, unlike me, John couldn't just sever that relationship. But look, here's my
point in all this rambling. Okay, John made and unmade these relationships with people, and I'm not entirely convinced that they didn't get him killed. You dig, you piss off a guy like Maurice Levy, who knows what he'll do to you tomorrow, the next day, the next year. You piss off the United States government. You piss off a protective father like Tony Cox. I for one, never saw John in person again after that whole Oldies, But Moldi's mess.
Who knows what would have happened had our paths crossed? What do you think I would have said? What do you think I would have done? In the summer of ninety three, Americans binged on nostalgia at their local movie theater American Graffiti, George Lucas's movie about high school graduates tooling around in their cars on the last night of
summer vacation in Modesto, California, was a sleeper hit. The movie represented a more innocent time in America's history, before President Kennedy was assassinated, before Vietnam, before whatever it was that was happening in the Watergate Hotel. Audiences left the movie feeling better than they had felt when they walked in, and most kept right on walking to their local record store,
where they bought a copy of the movie soundtrack. The Double LP soundtrack was chock full of forty one hits from rock and rolls golden era in the late nineteen fifties and early sixties, from heavy hitters like Buddy Holly, Dell Shannon, and the Platters. Even though the songs represented an era that was little over a decade in the rear view, the wistfulness to be transported back in time was palpable. The soundtrack peaked at number ten on the
Billboard chart. It went on to sell three million copies. Less than two years later, in January of nine, Audiences continued to crave nostalgia for sock Hops and Wolfman Jack in Happy Days served it up every Tuesday night on ABC. It was perhaps during an original episode of Happy Days on a Tuesday night that viewers would have seen an ad for John Lennon's new album. It was news to
everyone who saw the ad for the first time. A new album by an ex Beatle was an event, after all, but it was also news to the man on the album cover, John Lennon, knew nothing about it. John's jaw hit the floor when he saw the ad for the first time. True, he was planning to release a new album called rock and Roll, the longest dating collection of classic covers that he had begun and aborted with Phil Spector.
It was finally due to be released in April, but it was January and this album he was seeing on the TV screen wasn't his album at all, But what the hell is this? The album's cover was nauseating bright yellow and featured a photo of John's face that was at least six years old. The album was titled Roots.
John Lennon Sings the Great rock and Roll Hits, and to add insult to injury, the voiceover pitch was cheesy schlock, promising listeners that nauseating, bright yellow cover, cheesy schlock voiceover pitch fifteen great hits on one record album for only four dollars and cents. It was obvious to John that
this was the work of Maurice Levy. John remembered that he had sent rough mixes of the songs he had been working on for the rock and Roll album to Levy to prove that he was actually making progress and wasn't continuing to jerk Levy around. What had become increasingly obvious to John was that Maurice Levy had taken those rough mixes and decided to go ahead and release them as his own album on his budget label, Adam eight. John got pissed at Levy. Levy was still pissed at John.
Levy sued John for defaulting on the original judgment to deliver him the rock and Roll record on time. John Connor sued for releasing unfinished mixes under his name without his approval. John was ordered to pay Levy almost seven thousand dollars in damages, but Levy suffered more. He was ordered to pay on close to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and, more importantly to John, the budget compilation album rushed out on Levy's Adam eight label was yanked
from stores. John Lennon was concerned about more than lawsuits. However, He was worried that both the Rock and Roll and Roots records were merely riding the coattails of the ongoing nostalgia wave. That he was no longer a trailblazer, he was merely a trend follower. He worried his relevance would fade away, just like the relevance of Phil Specter, the man who had attempted to make the rock and roll
record with him. His relevance was fading and was replaced by rumors in crazy stories full of drugs, firearms, and routine insanity. John Lennon had his own rumors that were following him around, and they all came from the same place, Los Angeles. In Los Angeles, in self imposed exile away from his wife Yoko Ono, John was assisted by other musicians and so called friends who aided in the obliteration of whatever made of his beetle image. In Los Angeles,
he was no longer John Lennon. He was Dr Winston Oh Boogie who loved rock and roll, but who loved chaos and debauchery even more. He hung out with other co conspirators who were working on setting their own images ablaze, guys with names like Baron von Moon in a hard drinking celebrity bar crawl collective called the Hollywood Vampires. He had since returned to New York City and reconciled with Yoko, but the truth about what had happened in l A
wasn't going away anytime soon. John wanted to get back, not exactly to where he once belonged, but to a place, maybe a state of mind, when things weren't so complicated, back to a time before it was so much Blood on the Tracks. All right, everybody, thanks for listening to Blood on the Tracks. If you like what you hear, be sure to find and follow Blood on the Tracks on Apple podcast, I Heart Radio, app, Amazon Music, or
wherever you get your podcasts. On this season two of Blood on the Tracks, we'll be releasing ten episodes on the incredible life of John Lennon, with a new episode every Thursday. You can also binge all ten episodes of season one on the insane story of the notorious record producer Phil Spect right now. It's available wherever you get
your podcasts. This episode of Blood on the Tracks was written by Zeth Lundie and hosted an executive produced by me Jake Brennan, also executive produced by Brady sab Story and copy editing by Pat Healy. This episode was mixed by Colin Fleming. Additional music and score elements by Ryan Spreaker. This episode featured Chris Anzelonia as Phil Specter. Blood on the Tracks is produced by Double Elvis and partnership with
I Heart Radio. Sources for this episode are available at Double Elvis dot com on the Blood on the Track series page. If you want to chat about this show or hear more about the other shows, we're making a Double Elvis tap in on Instagram at double Elvis, on Twitter at Double Elvis FM, and now on Twitch, where we're streaming three days a week at Twitch dot tv slash Double Elvis Podcasts. And finally, be sure to check out disgrace Land, the award winning music and true crime
podcast that I also host. Disgrace Land is available only on the free Amazon Music app. To hear tons of insane stories about your favorite musicians getting away with murder and behaving very badly, go to Amazon dot com slash disgrace Land, or if you have an Echo device, just say Alexa play the disgrace Land podcast. Rock Alone, Dad,