Ready, Steady, Go!: Swinging London and the Invention of Cool. Shawn Levy

      Oldham knew them. He’d worked a few months earlier that year as a pavement-pounding press agent for Brian Epstein, who felt that EMI wasn’t doing enough to promote the band. When John and Paul caught sight of Oldham’s moue and asked what was wrong, he explained his dilemma: he needed a hit tune—did they have any to spare; ha-ha-ha? Lennon and McCartney knew and liked Oldham’s band and—hey presto! – volunteered to help. They themselves were to resume recording their second album the very next day and had a song that they’d be willing to share – it just needed a little polishing – wouldn’t take a minute.

      So Oldham returned to the dingy confines of the Studio 51 jazz club with England’s hottest songwriting team in tow. Handshakes all round, and then John and Paul taught the band parts of the song they’d already finished and worked out the incomplete passages in front of the startled onlookers – a two-man hit-making machine, even with a few pints in them, at the drop of a hat.

      The next day, Lennon and McCartney recorded the song with their own group, giving the vocal part to Ringo, who sang jokily, nervily, a mark, perhaps, of how lightly the Beatles regarded the tune in the grand scheme of things. But the version by the other guys, recorded a month after that fateful afternoon encounter, turned into a no. 12 hit—‘I Wanna Be Your Man’, the first breakthrough record for the Rolling Stones.