Chris O'Dell
Miss O'Dell

"JoJo left his home in Tucson Arizona for some California grass": Paul McCartney claimed in "Get Back" that JoJo was a man. But then he also said that sweet Loretta Martin thought she was a woman but was actually just another man. So here we are: the one who left her home in Tucson, Arizona for some California grass was none other than Chris O'Dell, better known as Miss O'Dell. She was twenty when she moved to Los Angeles in search of fortune, and there, through a friend, met Derek Taylor, one of the heads of Apple on a business trip. Taylor, an old friend and reliable confidant of the Beatles, told her: "Why don't you come to London? Life is there, that's where things happen today, that's where the Beatles, Apple, Carnaby Street, and everything you want are!". Said and done. Chris, to scrape together money, sold her record collection (among which, ironically, many Beatles records!) and flew to London with a trolley and $100 in her pocket. It's 1968, and Apple has just been founded with the intent to promote new talents. The Beatles had to invest their substantial earnings to prevent taxes from swallowing most of it, so they bought an entire building on Savile Row, in the heart of London, between Regent Street and Piccadilly Circus, and founded their own record label. Anyone could send demos and show up for an audition. There were different sectors, including Apple Film, Apple Electronics, and Zapple, which exclusively handled avant-garde music, while on Baker Street the Apple Boutique was born, with its fine Indian silks. In short, a hippie dream run by hippies to make hippies happy. Needless to say, within a few years, it all collapsed in a hippie manner. The elegant boutique closed after being ransacked daily, Apple Electronics turned out to be a bluff orchestrated by a Greek joker dubbed Magic Alex by Lennon, who only had magical cunning. In Savile Row's storerooms, so much material, mostly of little value, piled up that it would take five years of continuous listening to go through all the tapes. In short, another dream of those crazy years shattered. Yet many valuable records were produced (Badfinger, James Taylor, Mary Hopkin, Elephant's Memory Band, Billy Preston, the Hare Krishna Temple, and Jackie Lomax, to whom I refer in other reviews. By the way, Liam Gallagher is about to produce a film on Apple based on the book The Longest Cocktail Party by Richard DiLello, another jack-of-all-trades of the Apple).

Let's return to the splendid Miss O'Dell and when she managed to get hired at Apple as a secretary and factotum. In her autobiography, which carries the significant subtitle "My hard days with the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton and the women they loved", published by Touchstone a few months ago, she tells us everything. Just the anecdotes and photographs would make it an indispensable document for enthusiasts. "Get Back" is not the only song connected to O'Dell. In 1973 George Harrison dedicated the splendid, little-known "Miss O'Dell" to her, the B-side of "Give Me Love", and Leon Russell, one of the foremost pianists of the era (with whom she had an affair), wrote for her his most famous song "Pisces Apple Lady" (Chris was a Pisces).  Speaking of stories: Miss O'Dell had "intimate" relationships with Ringo Starr, Mick Jagger, Bob Dylan, and Eric Clapton, among others, besides the already mentioned Russell, all well-documented in the book. With Harrison, we do not know, or at least it is not openly said. The fact is that Chris had become the best friend of Pattie Harrison (as well as of Maureen Starkey and the wife of Bill Wyman,) and she had sworn never to try anything with her husband. And since that friendship still endures today, there is a strong suspicion that something may have happened which was purposely not told. But it is certain that George often hosted her at Friar Park, even when Pattie was already gone. By the way, the description of Friar Park, Harrison's incredible kingdom in the suburbs of London, is spectacular. Chris O'Dell was there the night George declared he had an affair with Ringo's wife ("better you than a stranger," was the "British" drummer's reply). And it was following this that her relationship with Ringo began. Chris shares her cohabitation experiences with Eric Clapton, who perhaps fares the worst in the book: a drunkard, violent, jealous, envious, and quarrelsome. His obsession with Harrison's wife led him to the abyss of heroin until he managed to convince Pattie to live with him ("I got rid of both of them," George's "British" comment). O'Dell was sitting next to Yoko Ono during the Beatles' rooftop concert on Savile Row; she was in the room when Hey Jude was recorded, and Paul called her, "ordering" her to join in the final "na-nà-nananannà" because he needed more voices. She was also the one who typed the lyrics for the album All Things Must Pass, and, of course, she attended the Concert for Bangladesh. She was there as well when the infernal Hells Angels arrived at Apple riding Harley Davidsons: wasn't it the house of the hippies, they said, and they camped there with all the bikes for two weeks, spreading terror in the offices and the aristocratic neighborhood of the West End. When George welcomed the sizable Hare Krishna community, reserving an entire wing of Friar Park for them, many bizarre things happened related to their Eastern habits: here, too, Chris narrates particularly amusing episodes.

But when Allen Klein arrived at Apple, it was the end of everything, Beatles included. O'Dell moved on to other shores, and if you've worked for the Beatles, it's easy to find a job. We're with Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, with the whims of the first three opposed to solitary Neil, then moving to the tranquility of Carlos Santana. At this point, a shot of life was needed: in the 1973 world tour, she became tour manager for the Rolling Stones and the ideal companion for Mick Jagger: "It seemed like by contract all had to go to bed with Mick," she states candidly. Even Keith Richards adored her, but for entirely different reasons, so much so that he gave her the greatest compliment: "You know Chris, you do drugs like a man!". And she ended up on the cover of Exile On Main Street. Then came Bob Dylan, during the Rolling Thunder Revue Tour. We're in 1976, and even the enigmatic Zimmerman couldn't help but fall into her arms. The events continue into the eighties, between one tour and another, and rivers of alcohol and coke. There are also the Queen. Can you imagine: locking yourself in the broom closet with Freddie Mercury to sniff coke and burst out laughing? Then, in the middle of a tour with Echo & The Bunnymen, Chris decides to quit everything. Today she is married, has a son, and has returned to Tucson, where she runs a rehabilitation center for drug addicts, in which she is an expert. More anecdotes should be cited, such as when she absolutely had to procure harmonica for Bob Dylan for his concert on the Isle of Wight, or when she happened upon a small private plane on a turbulent flight back to London, with just her, John and Yoko, who faced the turbulence by singing Hare Krishna for two hours. But space is tight, and all I can do is recommend getting a copy. I found it in a little shop in Camden, London, because, almost forgot: unfortunately it hasn't been translated.

Groupie, hippie, adventurer, muse, or voracious comforter of rock stars? Boh! Maybe all that, and even more.