Ringo Starr on New Beatles Song: It’s ‘a Nice Way to Finally Close That Door’

Paul and John wrote “With a Little Help From My Friends,” the song that always ends All Starr Band concerts, and they customized it for your voice and personality. You couldn’t have sung “Helter Skelter” or “Blackbird.”

No, I couldn’t. John wrote several songs for me over the years, and George too. I used to be a rock drummer, and then they ruined my whole career. [Laughs.] “With a Little Help” and “Yellow Submarine” are the reasons I’m onstage every night.

It’s a pretty big act of love to write someone a song.

Yeah, they know me. Paul loves me as much as I love him. He’s the brother I never had. As an only child, suddenly I got three brothers. We looked out for each other. We all went mad at different times. You can’t imagine what it was like, being in the Beatles. It got bigger and crazier.

We were playing clubs, and then we made a record, “Love Me Do.” My God, there’s nothing bigger than that, our first vinyl. We found out the BBC was going to play “Love Me Do” at 2:17, or whatever time it was, and we pulled the car over. “Wow! We’re on the radio, man!”

Sure, because you didn’t know how long your careers would last.

Nobody knew. There was that terrible interview [with the BBC in 1963], which I pay for even today. Paul and John said they would keep writing songs once the Beatles’ popularity faded. My girlfriend was a hairdresser, so I said I fancied having a ladies’ hair salon, and I’ve been sh- - on ever since for saying that. “Oh, did you ever hear from the hairdressing salon?” [Laughs.]

How do you prepare physically when you’re about to start a tour?I prepare every day. I work out with a trainer three times a week, and I do a couple of days on my own as well, just to keep moving. In the first All Starr Band, Joe Walsh was the guitarist. I said to Joe, “Let’s rock!” I went down on my knees, but I couldn’t get back up. [Laughs.] That’s when I started getting myself together physically.

You’re a big advocate of broccoli. What percent broccoli are you at this point?

I’m 99 percent broccoli. The kids now have posters in the audience: “Peace, Love, Broccoli.” I recommend broccoli to all your readers.

The phrase “peace and love” has become so synonymous with you. It’s an easy motto to adopt if you grew up around peace and love, but when you were growing up in Liverpool ...

There was no peace and love. You were loved by your mother and, in my case, my stepdad and grandparents. In our neighborhood, the Dingle, there was an edge all the time that could get violent. You had to join a gang. And sometimes your own gang would beat you up! [Grins.]

You were also a very sick child, but it seems it created a lucky break.

They told my mother three times, “He’ll be dead in the morning.” They didn’t know I had peritonitis until it went into my appendix, which burst. I was poisoned all through my body. The surgeon was next door, drinking in the pub, because he’d gone off duty. He opened me up the best he could, and he saved my life. Imagine if he’d had more to drink!

But I think being that ill taught me that life goes on. And I was in bed for months, so to keep us busy they brought us tambourines, maracas and little 7-inch drums. It was a magic moment, because once I hit that drum, I only wanted to be a drummer. We couldn’t afford drums, but I ended up getting them, and all has been going well since.

Since the Beatles, have you ever been close to joining someone else’s band full-time?

No, I never joined anybody’s band. I played with John Lennon’s Plastic Ono Band and a lot of other bands, and other Beatles played with me. If you look at the Ringo album [from 1973], the Beatles are all on it, and John is also on [1974’s] Goodnight Vienna.

Then they asked me, did I want to put the All Starr Band together and go on the road. I said yes. And then you go, “What the hell did I just do?” It was a great experience. I like to mention my insecurity, because I was the middle drummer, with Levon Helm on my right and Jim Keltner on my left. I think it’s the first band that ever had three drummers.

You mentioned Ringo, the only album on which all four former Beatles play. I don’t want to say you were the glue in the band, but you were the guy who didn’t feud with anyone.

No, I was the glue. [Laughs.] That’ll be in big letters: I WAS THE GLUE, SAYS RINGO. George was the first one to make a solo album [Wonderwall Music], and I was the drummer. John started the Plastic Ono Band, and I was the drummer. Paul likes to play drums himself, or I would’ve been on his albums too.

There’s a “new” Beatles song coming out, called “Now and Then.” How did that happen?

Last year, Paul called and said, “You remember that unfinished song of John’s, ‘Now and Then’? Why don’t we work on that?” He sent it to me, and I played the drums and sang. We had a great track of John singing and playing piano and George playing rhythm guitar. There were terrible rumors that it’s not John, it’s AI, whatever bulls- - - people said. Paul and I would not have done that. It’s a beautiful song and a nice way to finally close that door.

Do you play the drums much?

No, because I hate playing on my own. There’s an interview of George saying, “Oh, Ringo’s bad, he won’t even practice. But he played great on my record.” [Laughs.] He saved himself. But it’s true I could never sit by myself and play. I did once, and there were lots of loud voices, people in our Liverpool neighborhood shouting about what they’d do to me if I didn’t stop.

Is peace and love still winning?

Yes. The press used to say, “Oh, he’s peace-and-loving again.” What’s wrong with that, brother? The world is still crazy, it’s ruled by dictators and palace owners. There’s a lot we could do.

You made a lot of films. Do you have a favorite?

Blindman [a 1971 Western]. You haven’t seen that one? Oh dear, oh dear. [Laughs.] I’m the bad cowboy’s younger brother. Every time I went to get on my horse, we had to cut, because the stirrup was over my eye level. They’d bring a ladder and then I’d get on the horse.

On one of your movies, Caveman, you met actress Barbara Bach, and you’ve now been married for 42 years. What is the secret to a long marriage?

Love is deep and odd. People think, Oh, you never have a bad day. We have bad days, and we’ve had a few rows, but we get through it. We don’t have bad months. I still love her, and hopefully she’s still got some feelings for me. [Laughs.]

February 9, 2024, will be the 60th anniversary of the Beatles’ momentous appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show. What do you remember?

Wow, 60 years. I can’t tell you how incredible it was. All the music I loved came from America: country, blues, probably half the records I bought were Motown. It was always American music, and 60 years later, I’m still here talking about it. Ed Sullivan was at the airport in London when we came back from a tour of Sweden. He didn’t know who we were, but when he saw the reaction of the crowd, he booked us. By the time we got to America, we had a single [“I Want to Hold Your Hand”] that was number 1. Everything just worked out for the Beatles.

I was 22 when I joined the Beatles in 1962, and I was 30 when it was all over. We did eight years, and look at how much we packed in. We loved to work — well, Paul loved to work more than all of us. John and I would be hanging out in the garden and the phone would ring. We were psychic — we knew it was him. “Hey, lads, should we go into the studio?” Otherwise, we’d have put out three albums and then vanished.