The Beatles Were a Soho Band - Part 3
We focus on 1963 as part of our continuing journey through their creative home
We are The Beatles. All of us.
Me, the girl at the front, screaming my head off, being chased down the street by the bobbies, so full of fucking life I thought I might burst.
Me, the boy in the playground, trading Beatles cards and just one away from the full set.
Me, the mod in my new grey collarless jacket, sharp as anything over my Ben Sherman.
Me, the teacher scolding the girls for carving Paul and George into their desk lids—then going home to stack up their EPs on the Dansette and sing along.
Me, the granddad grinning at their cheek, their cocky innocence, reminded of the pals I went off to fight with all those years ago, lovely boys they were. Never came home.
Me, the millworker in Manchester, pulling extra shifts, a few more bob in my purse—we’ve never shifted so much corduroy.
In 1963, something happened. We didn’t just listen to The Beatles.
We became The Beatles.
This isn’t the story of four young men. It’s the story of a nation—millions of us—who made something together. A noise, a memory, a moment in time.
A band we all belonged to.
Part One of our journey looked at the group’s first encounter with Soho, as a brief stop on their way to Hamburg to learn their craft. Part Two took us up to the end of 1962, when they were on the brink of success. Here we look at how in 1963 Soho provided them with all everything they needed to transform success into a cultural revolution.
Tailored for success
Brian Epstein is well known for getting The Beatles out of leather and denim and into suits. This wasn’t necessarily to their tastes, but as John Lennon said later “I’d wear a balloon if somebody was paying me”.
But Epstein had nothing to do with the Pierre Cardin-style collarless suits that defined their style in 1963. It was their Hamburg photographer friend Astrid Kirchherr who set them on this sartorial path. In addition to giving her partner Stuart Sutcliffe the hair style that his bandmates, then the rest of the world eventually copied, she also gave him a round-collared jacket early in 1961, shortly before he left the group.
Some time in March 1963, between Please Please Me and From Me to You, the group visited 63 Old Compton Street - just past the 2i’s coffee bar. This was probably their first visit to the street since their brief introduction to it with Lord Woodbine two years previously. Number 63 was where award winning tailor Dougie Millings plied his trade. By the end of the 1960s Millings’ client list included Roy Orbison, The Kinks, Cliff Richard, The Small Faces, The Temptations and many others. Keith Moon died in a Millings suit.
Paul McCartney in particular was insistent that the group wanted something different, and following the style of Cardin, Millings crafted four matching suits with round necks in silver gray, three pearl buttons on the jacket, flared cuffs and flat-fronted trousers with no side pockets.
This defined their style for at least the next year as Beatlemania gripped the land. The Beatles had a genuine respect for Millings, calling him Dad and giving him a role as a tailor in their film A Hard Day's Night. He made their suits for their next movie, their Sgt Pepper suits and about 500 garments for the group in total. The suits were critical to their style, but they needed something else too.
The Soho logo
Ivan Arbiter was sixteen when he set up his own musical instrument repair business, just after the Second World War. His repair business made steady progress and the skiffle boom provided opportunities for selling instruments. He set up Drum City in 1961 at 114 Shaftesbury Avenue and the Sound City guitar and amp shop on Rupert Street a year later.
Arbiter was working at Rupert Street when his assistant over at Drum City phoned him. Two men had walked in wanting a new drum kit, but not wanting to pay for it. He hurried up the road to see what was going on.
Brian Epstein had turned up with Ringo Starr whose heart was set on the new Ludwig kit displayed in the window. It was early 1963, and the group had just secured their first number one hit, so a deal was not unreasonable. But Ivan wouldn’t be giving the kit away for nothing.
As Ludwig’s sole agent in London this could be useful publicity, unless The Beatles turned out to be one-hit wonders. So he took a gamble. Arbiter agreed to take Ringo’s old kit in exchange, on condition that the Ludwig name would be prominent on the bass drum. Epstein agreed — as long as the group’s name featured as well. Arbiter quickly sketched out the group’s name on a scrap of paper. He drew it in block capitals with a larger ‘B’ and an extended ‘T’. He offered to have this logo painted on the drum by local signwriter Eddie Stokes. But it would cost extra. A five pound note was handed over. And that was how the most recognisable logo in popular music history was created.
A few weeks later, George Harrison visited Sound City to buy a Gretsch Country Gentleman guitar. Within a few days, both the new Ludwig kit and Gretsch guitar were carried into Abbey Road studios for their first recording session. The song they recorded was She Loves You. From its urgent opening drum fill to the deliberately played guitar arpeggios, the song not only defined Beatlemania, but it became the top selling single of the 1960s. More details here.
The Beatles at the BBC
This one is a slight cheat. While we have pushed a little beyond Soho’s formal boundaries in one or two of our stories, here we are a four minute walk away from the neighbourhood at two locations.
Between 1962 and 1965, the Beatles recorded over 50 BBC radio programmes, laying down 88 songs—36 of which were never released on their studio albums. Central to this prolific output were the BBC’s London studios on Lower Regent Street and New Bond Street. At the Paris Studio on Lower Regent Street, the band recorded an astonishing 18 tracks in a single day on 16 July 1963, many of which had yet to be committed to vinyl. Meanwhile, the ornate Aeolian Hall on New Bond Street hosted seven sessions, beginning on 24 May 1963. These venues offered a mix of traditional BBC engineering and an ideal platform for the Beatles to showcase their wide-ranging repertoire—from Motown to skiffle and rock ’n’ roll—honed in the clubs of Hamburg and Liverpool.
The BBC played a pivotal role in transforming the Beatles from regional favourites into national sensations. Its public-service model—free from commercial pressures—allowed their talent, personality and humour to reach millions across the UK, through interviews, live performances, and even their own dedicated radio shows. For many fans, the BBC was where they first heard the Beatles—not just their hits, but lesser-known songs, offbeat covers, and candid banter that revealed the band’s charm and charisma.
These sessions were more than promotional appearances; they were cultural milestones. The Beatles brought new sounds to UK audiences, including the first Motown song aired on British radio with Please Mr. Postman. Often recorded live and with minimal editing, their BBC output captured the raw energy of a band in transition—from unknown hopefuls to the biggest stars in the country. The Paris and Aeolian studios weren’t just backdrops; they were launchpads for Beatlemania, laying the groundwork for the band’s global domination and forming a legacy that would later be celebrated in Live at the BBC and On Air – Volume 2. The fertile soil for Beatlemania was laid down at The Beeb.
It’s only rock and roll
It was a mid-afternoon in September 1963 when John Lennon and Paul McCartney stepped out of a taxi outside Dick James’ offices on Charing Cross Road. A Variety Club luncheon had left them slightly inebriated. As they arrived, Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham came striding out of Denmark Street and called after them. By then, the two bands had become close friends. The Beatles had seen the Stones perform at Richmond’s Crawdaddy Club in April and again at The Scene, just off Great Windmill Street, in July. But this chance encounter would do more than strengthen their friendship—it would help ignite The Rolling Stones’ songwriting ambitions.
The Stones were rehearsing nearby and needed a commercial hit. Loog Oldham asked if Lennon and McCartney had any spare songs. At the time, The Beatles were working on their second album, With The Beatles, and had been writing I Wanna Be Your Man as a showcase for Ringo Starr. It had a simple structure and a catchy melody, but so far, they had little more than the chorus.
A short taxi ride took Lennon and McCartney to Studio 51 at 10 Great Newport Street, hanging off the south east corner of Soho, an R&B venue where The Stones regularly performed. The band was rehearsing for their first package tour, supporting The Everly Brothers, Little Richard, and Bo Diddley. They had been testing potential singles but hadn’t found the right one.
Lennon and McCartney settled into a corner of the club, borrowed guitars, and finished the song in under half an hour. Mick Jagger later recalled:
"They played it, and we thought it sounded pretty commercial, which is what we were looking for, so we did it like Elmore James or something. I haven’t heard it for ages, but it must be pretty freaky ’cause nobody really produced it. It was completely crackers, but it was a hit and sounded great onstage."
The song became The Stones’ second hit, reaching No. 12 on the UK singles chart. More importantly, it was a turning point in their evolution. Inspired by Lennon and McCartney’s effortless songwriting, Jagger and Keith Richards began writing their own material. It was the moment The Rolling Stones began transforming from a blues cover band into one of the greatest original rock acts in history.
The birth of Beatlemania
Walk 50 metres south from Larry Parnes’ office above Oxford Circus tube station, and there on the left is the London Palladium. It was here on 13 October 1963 that Beatlemania, if not exactly born, at least was given its name. ITV’s Sunday Night at the London Palladium was a firm family favourite, attracting audiences of up to 15 million for its variety show acts. Argyll Street was packed with hundreds of screaming fans, and when The Beatles started the first of their two performances that evening, the screaming continued inside the Palladium itself. While the British press had studiously avoided any mention of the adulation surrounding the group during that year’s run of chart topping singles, it could clearly be avoided no longer. While the fans’ reaction was covered on the TV news bulletin immediately following the live show, the journalist for a leading newspaper was penning his headline for the following day’s front page: Beatlemania.
Rattle your jewellery
The 1960s began on 4 November 1963, on the south side of Soho. That night, The Beatles took to the stage at the Prince of Wales Theatre on Coventry Street for the Royal Variety Performance. Their appearance not only propelled them from teenage heartthrobs of Beatlemania to national—and soon global—treasures but also marked a cultural turning point.
The Royal Variety Performance had been held annually since 1912—pausing only for the Second World War and, later, COVID—to raise money for charity. Televised since 1960, it became one of the highest-rated broadcasts in the UK during the 1960s and 1970s. It also gained a devoted international audience, particularly in Commonwealth countries, and, bizarrely, in Norway, where it still airs after the New Year’s Eve chimes.
The 1963 show featured nineteen acts, including Marlene Dietrich, Joe Loss and his orchestra, comedian Charlie Drake, Max Bygraves, and Tommy Steele. The Beatles were seventh on the bill. Recorded on 4 November and broadcast six days later, the show was attended by the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret. A staggering 21.2 million people tuned in to ITV—the highest viewership in the network’s history at the time and the most-watched programme on British television that year.
For their set, The Beatles performed four songs. Before launching into their final number, John Lennon delivered a moment of unforgettable irreverence:
"For our last number, I’d like to ask your help. The people in the cheaper seats, clap your hands. And the rest of you, if you’d just rattle your jewellery. We’d like to sing a song called ‘Twist and Shout’.”
This was the moment The Beatles’ charm and wit truly won over the public, cementing their status as media darlings in a way no pop stars had before. It marked a shift—musicians were no longer just entertainers; they were cultural figures, shaping and reflecting the changing times. For Britain, it was a milestone. In three sentences, Lennon signalled the end of deference. The voice of an empowered working class had arrived.
Two days later, the Daily Mirror summed up the nation's mood:
"How refreshing to see these rumbustious young Beatles take a middle-aged Royal Variety Performance audience by the scruff of their necks and have them Beatling like teenagers. Fact is that Beatle People are everywhere: from Wapping to Windsor. Aged seven to seventy."
As two children who watched this show with their respective families, this is a critical point. The significance of The Beatles at the time was not just to youth culture, but to the wider society - signifying the shift from a Tory Britain to 1964’s Labour Britain of progressive and highly liberal social reform. On 21 November, the day before President Kennedy’s assassination, CBS broadcast the first profile of the group on American TV. Reporter Alexander Kendrick commented “Some say they are the authentic voice of the proletariat. Some say they are the authentic heart of Britain.” From that night at the Prince of Wales Theatre and for at least a generation, they were.
The first bubblegum band
The A&BC Chewing Gum Company of Romford, Essex, was one of the first to recognize the merchandising potential of The Beatles. Adapting the American concept of trading cards, they launched their first series of Beatles Bubblegum Cards in Britain in 1964. I collected them and have an (almost) complete set. The series was later licensed for sale in other countries.
The 60-card set featured photographs by Dežo Hoffmann, the first professional London-based photographer to work regularly with The Beatles. Their collaboration was most active in 1963, though Hoffmann also traveled with the band to France and the U.S. in early 1964. His images appeared on promotional materials, concert programmes, memorabilia, and, of course, the bubblegum cards.
Hoffmann led a remarkable life—he fought in the Spanish Civil War, served as a pilot in the Free Czech Air Force during World War II, and eventually settled in London as a celebrity photographer. His relationship with The Beatles was one of mutual respect, and his candid, natural style captured the band's true essence. His photographs not only documented their early years but also played a key role in shaping their public image.
The photograph below was taken on Rupert Court, a narrow alleyway between 27 and 29 Wardour Street, just below Hoffmann's studio, where many of the band’s most iconic early photos were taken.
This location is also adjacent to 33–37 Wardour Street, the site of the Flamingo Club, one of the venues The Beatles frequented in their early days. All four band members visited on September 6, 1963, to see Georgie Fame and the Blue Flames perform. Later, on August 6, 1965, Paul McCartney and Jane Asher attended a Byrds concert there.
The Year Everything Changed
It was the sheer speed of change that was remarkable. In just the first six months of 1963, The Beatles went from promising newcomers to a national obsession. When She Loves You was released in August, it shot to number one and stayed in the charts for 31 weeks — remaining in the top three right through to Christmas. By late November, it had sold over a million copies.
Their suits were sharper, their sound tighter, their presence undeniable. And at the heart of this transformation was Soho. This small slice of London played a pivotal role in shaping their look, sound, and story. Soho was where style met sound — where Dougie Millings stitched the sleek silhouettes that rebranded them as icons. It was where new guitars were bought, deals struck, songs exchanged, and photographs taken. These weren’t just accessories; they were the tools of a revolution.
Their BBC sessions brought their humour, wit, and irreverence into British homes, turning them into household names. Their Royal Variety performance made them national icons. In Soho, The Beatles evolved — from hopefuls to masters of their myth.
Or more accurately: co-creators. Beatlemania was born at the crossroads of a new kind of musical masculinity and a liberated femininity. The fuse was lit in Liverpool, but it exploded on the streets of London. Beatlemania wasn’t just about music or style — it created space for female desire, for a rare public expression of sexuality. The behaviour of the girls screaming in streets and theatres was more than hysteria; it was rebellion. The media’s ridicule of them masked a deeper discomfort — a fear of young women asserting cultural power. Many of those girls later became feminists, calling that moment their first taste of collective female identity.
Britain in 1963 was still shaking off the last of its post-war greyness. Children born in the shadow of the Blitz were now teenagers — hungry for something new, something loud, something all their own. The Beatles delivered it. Not just on vinyl, but across every inch of popular culture. Nowhere was this clearer than in the bubblegum cards. We were kids — we couldn’t afford the records, but those pocket-sized photos, sold with a stick of bubblegum, were within reach. We traded them in playgrounds and pinned them to our bedroom walls. We were the first generation raised on pop idols instead of wartime heroes.
And it all came together in Soho. Not just a place The Beatles passed through — but their launchpad. And our launchpad. Here, image collided with industry, rebellion danced with respectability, and fashion fused with fandom. In these streets, something larger than music was set in motion — a new culture was forming. The city was shifting. And just ahead, the world was waiting, holding its breath.
London was about to swing.
Next…
As The Beatles lead the British Invasion across the Atlantic, we’ll explore the Soho locations linked to their films, broadening influences and business ventures. Through it all, Soho remained a vital backdrop — a beating heart in the story of a band that changed everything.
This series takes you on a musical journey through Soho with The Beatles, told in chronological chapters. The final instalment will include a custom map and a specially curated playlist to bring the story to life.
We're also planning a guided walking tour — The Beatles in Soho — to complement this series, part of our wider collection of musical Soho walks. If you're interested, we’d love to hear from you.
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The evolution of Brit and world society: for that brief moment in time, we were all together , all joined up!
Fabulous as ever, Mike, major congrats on presenting such a vital piece on