All language subtitles for Under.the.Volcano.2021.1080p.WEBRip.x264-RARBG.srt

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Going to Montserrat
was like going into a dream.

It's always different.

Reality's always different
from what you think it will be.

I love the idea of wilderness
on the edge of civilization.

I think the volcano itself is a kind
of presiding spirit over the island,

and it definitely gives you a sense

that you're living
on the edge of something seismic.

When the volcano went off,
that was a pinnacle point of change.

A point where nothing was ever
gonna be quite the same again.

In the way we recorded,
in the way that music was dealt with.

Those magical moments
are gonna be no longer.

It was a glorious dream
that George Martin had.

And it's so sad, as always,

to see a glorious dream come to an end
and be destroyed.

It's Atlantis now, isn't it?

Montserrat's in the
Caribbean. It's very close to Antigua.

But because it's so small,
it really is that hidden gem.

They used to call it the Hidden Gem
and the Emerald Isle of the Caribbean.

Montserrat was colonized by the Irish.
That's why the island is so different

because it's just a really friendly
place, it's just got a magic about it.

We had one big superstar.

Mighty Arrow. Everybody around the
world would know Arrow, Hot Hot Hot.

That's our music.
We call it soca music.

Soca is a hybrid of calypso music.

Calypso music originated in Nigeria
and came to the West Indies.

These islands, you know,
they were part of the slave trade.

And then you had the calypso carnivals.

Montserrat is just a lovely place.

There is an atmosphere in Montserrat

that just makes you want to live
in Montserrat.

There was no doubt
there was a magic on Montserrat.

This island was kind of untouched.

There were no big corporate signs
for chain restaurants.

And here was no American money in there,

just these old shacks and tin roofs,

and brightly colored
and painted beautifully.

And you felt
as though you were in a time warp.

This little island had a heart
that you could feel, you know?

It didn't have the
sophistication you'd feel straight away

if you went to Antigua
or anywhere else like that.

It was far more innocent, far more quiet.

There's definitely a mystique
about the island.

It's quite a place, actually.
It's really dramatic.

These, you know, very sheer cliffs.

And, of course,
the fertility of the island

is a function of this volcanic ash
that comes down periodically.

It hadn't come down for a long time,

but the island was blooming
and blossoming, everything grew.

I often wonder why George Martin
chose a volcanic island

to put his beautiful studio on.

Originally, Dad, he was a mad visionary
in lots of ways.

I think always liked the idea
of pushing boundaries.

Think about what he did
with the Beatles in the '60s.

He pushed the boundaries
with the recording studios.

He wanted to do something different.

I bust a string straight away.

There were some great moments singing,
Paul, but it wasn't the one.

It's the second one
out of every three is the one.

Do you want to hear any of it before you
do any more or go straight for another?

They either say
that George Martin did everything

or the Beatles did everything.
It was neither one, you know?

He had a very great musical knowledge
and background.

So he could translate for us
and suggest a lot of things.

We'd be saying we want it to go...

ooo-ooo and eee-eee.

He'd say, "Well, look, chaps,
I thought of this this afternoon."

Last night, I was talking to..."
whoever he was talking to.

"And I came up with this."

And we'd say,
"Great. Great. We'll put it on here."

It's hard to say who did what, you know?

I mean, he taught us a lot.
I'm sure we taught him a lot.

A record producer
is not like a film producer.

A record producer
is much more like a film director.

One thing that was unique to George
that a lot of producers didn't have

is that he was also the arranger.

That's very often a completely
different person, different element.

In George's case, his work as an arranger

would be, for example, the strings
in Eleanor Rigby or something.

If you think of some
of the famous producers of our time,

the wall of sound, Phil Spector,

where he controlled
every note of every instrument

and was just a tyrant and stuff,
George was not at all like that.

But there was a serious element

of just kind of good Pythonesque
British crazy in there.

Just a lovely combination.

He knew how to get from you
the best that you could give.

Which was extraordinary,
in the most wonderful way.

Elegant, gentlemanly,
loving, nurturing way.

He would make any musician
a much better musician

by spending five minutes with them.

You can put a very soft flute
against a huge brass chord

and still make it sound loud.

And then cut up the tape,
threw it up in the air,

until it settled down on the ground,
and joined them up again together.

So it just became like a patchwork quilt.

This is the kind of thing
you can do on a recording,

which you obviously
couldn't possibly do it live

because it is making up music
as you go along.

He's largely responsible,
along with the Beatles,

for giving everybody
that came after them in music a career.

What the Beatles did with their albums,
no one will ever top that.

It is a moment in history
that may one day be known

as the day
the British Empire was no more.

The Beatles have decided
to call it a day.

Well, a lot of things
happened at that time.

Obviously, the Beatles broke up,
and so, George was free from EMI.

So I guess he became his own boss.

But frankly, if you're known
as the Beatles' producer,

anything you do after that,

it's virtually impossible
to get anywhere near that.

I think my dad was tired of the confines

of a very rigid company structure,

which was Abbey Road,
or EMI Studios as it was at the time.

And he wanted to build a place
which was more artist friendly.

Abbey Road obviously created great music,

but they always found...

I mean, the fridge
was locked every night.

They had to break in to get milk
for their cups of tea.

Even the loo roll had Abbey Road on it,
so you wouldn't steal it.

It was very much a...
It was like a proper English factory.

There's no doubt
in my mind that George had a vision

of how recording could or should be done.

Through the '70s was a period
of great excess in the music business.

Um, it was an era when
there wasn't such a thing as a budget.

There was a need to make some music.

The '70s
was one of the most exciting periods

in musical recording time.

And a few times,
I've been in EMI, Abbey Road,

and normally I would bump into George,
but he wasn't there.

And I wondered what was going on,
and they said,

"He's making his own studio now.
AIR London it's gonna be called."

We had four studios.

Oxford Circus,
right in the middle of town.

And it was so successful,
you know, it was a hit factory.

There's a momentum shift
which happens with successful studios.

But I think my dad
wanted to do something different

in the recording space.

He wanted to record
in a different location.

Then he built AIR
and he thought, "Where next?"

George was looking for something,
you know,

which wasn't in the middle of London.

Somewhere where the people
could come and record,

and his plan was
there'd be a lack of hangers-on.

It would just be them and their families.

Then he had an idea
that he would put a studio on a boat.

He had a boat in line,
which we went and looked at,

a great big, big boat, and we were
going to put a studio in the middle

so we could go to anywhere in the world
and record people.

Then he realized that just the diesel
generators would make a noise

in every single recording he made.

So then he looked at islands,
looked at Island Paradise,

looked at that idea about
building a studio and found Montserrat.

And suddenly, he comes up to me and says,

"Dave, we're flying out to Montserrat.
I want to show you something.

I've just bought a house
and I've bought an estate,

and I want you to build a studio there."

I'd read about Montserrat
in a Canadian magazine.

They described it,
"The Emerald Isle of the Caribbean."

So, I went there for a few days
and fell in love with the place,

and with the people,
because they're such gentle people.

And I loved it so much,
I bought a place, simple as that.

Montserrat, for George,
was something more

than just a commercial operation.

He'd fallen in love with Montserrat.

And he had something else in his mind,

just to be able to tie in creativity
with being in a special place.

George's idea was
to take people out of an environment,

to put them into harmony with nature,

but also have time together
to talk, to have dialogue.

And what he knew would happen

was that for a lot of bands
who had never been in that situation,

that would evoke new ways of thinking,
and therefore, new musical ideas.

If you look at Montserrat on a map
or had visited it

at that stage in 1976, '77,

you'd never think,
"Let's build a recording studios here."

In the same way you start
building the studios, you don't think,

"Let's get Rupert Neve to build
a custom desk and put it in this space."

The heart of any studio
is the mixing console.

Geoff Emerick was quite involved
in what was gonna go on in Montserrat.

So Geoff didn't want to use
a current type of Neve console.

So Rupert redesigned the desk.

He said, "It will wipe everything else
off the planet, this desk."

AIR Studios, part of AIR's fame

was that it had these three
incredible-sounding Neve consoles.

And they had one at AIR Montserrat.

Neve desks, to me, it sounded musical.

You could actually tune into something,

you could bring out
the character of something.

Putting a recording desk in a studios

in a big city has its own problems.

Putting a recording studio on Montserrat,

which really had no transport links
at all at that stage,

was the ultimate challenge.

And it was very brave of them, too,
because if something went really wrong,

your closest port of call was Miami.

You can imagine this huge two-ton box,

with the most extraordinary piece
of equipment inside of it,

with about 30 builders all round it,

and they rolled it off the back
of the truck onto the oil drums.

He's recognized
as the greatest record producer

the industry has seen. George Martin.

What are you up to right now?
You have an interest in a studio abroad.

Recently, I built a studio
out in the Caribbean.

This reminds me of it, by the way.

So I spend quite a lot of time out there.

And that was Montserrat
in the West Indies.

I hope I get a lot of people there.

We were, I believe,
the second band that recorded there,

and, you know, I love island culture
and I love the island people,

and I lived on my boat off and on
down there for 20 years.

So I didn't have to go back to London
or New York or Nashville to record it.

And I was able to take those songs
that were written there

and go into that studio
that was built by George Martin.

You couldn't get anybody who had
a better reputation at that time.

It was a lovely working environment

because you didn't leave,
I would say, the arena of creativity.

You were constantly involved
in the creation of this music,

as opposed to, like, being in Nashville,

because to me, there are
two ways that you go into the studio.

You can go in and look for perfection,
or you can try to capture the magic.

I've always been
a "capture the magic" guy.

But then, we had a few problems.

At the time, they were not funny

because there was
a bit of a colonial aspect to things

that did not fare well
with the American band.

We were in having drinks,
meeting everybody.

As we went to order the drinks,

you had to do it one at a time
and have a slip down,

you had to put it in
and pay for it at the time.

And this did not go over well
with the Coral Reefer Band.

So the studio manager at the time,
a guy named Denny Bridges, I remember,

I said, "This is kinda odd for us, sir.
Can't we kind of speed this up?

We can have fun here,

but we're here for two hours
trying to pay for the drinks."

He said,
"That's just the way we do it here."

And I just said, "Why don't I just buy
the whole fucking bar?"

The thing was when we first got there,

we didn't know
what we were gonna call the record.

And we saw the volcano.

This was a dormant volcano
that was, like, a tourist attraction.

You could walk from, like, here to you
and that was the vent of the volcano.

It was...

It was kind of fun to go up there,
and I was intrigued by that volcano

that was, you know, sitting there
that was so accessible.

The volcano.

I don't think anybody gave the volcano
more than a sort of sideways glance

when we went down there.

There was this thing called a soufriere,
which was a bubbling sulfur springs,

but it was seen
as one of the local tourist attractions.

It wasn't seen as anything dangerous.

I was always like, "Are you sure
you wanna be on this island with this?"

Because the volcano
was always sort of not going off,

but it was always, like, a possibility.
It was never, like, completely quiet.

You'd sit on the veranda and just listen.

And... I remember thinking a few times,

"Well, what
if that volcano suddenly went off?"

I'm from Chicago, we don't do volcanoes.

When we went to Montserrat,

we had been coming off
all those hit records,

those big hits,
and we wanted to pull away from that

and be grounded,
cos we were musicians first.

So we wanted to go back to our roots
and just play some music.

For us, the biggest thing was the whole
experience of just going there.

And I had heard the ladies that were
working in the field with the machetes,

when they were bringing our equipment
from the airport to the studio,

you know, the big cases
with Earth, Wind & Fire on them,

they had their machetes
and they dropped them and applauded.

Cos they knew we were coming.
They just applauded the cases.

We hadn't even gotten there yet.
And it was beautiful.

If anything,
I think because of where it was,

it touched our spirit
in a different kind of way.

You didn't feel anything
other than just joy in the music.

There was no rush either,
there was no clock.

And by being away
from everything and everybody

and from, "We need another hit record,
we need another hit record."

And we just put that aside, and said,
"We're gonna do a double record."

You know...
And we're just gonna play some music.

And we actually mapped out
the whole record there.

Top to bottom, just in conversation.

It was the early '80s.
Record company budgets were reasonable,

and afforded artists to go
and take over a studio for a while,

a residential studio.

So when you went to Montserrat,
it was yours.

It was your environment.

Your bar, your kitchen, your whole place.

So it was something
that was really quite special.

There weren't many residential studios
of that quality.

It was like it was all one big band.
It was like everybody was in the band.

George the cook was in the band,
the housekeeper was in the band.

It just all kind of overlapped,
it was not separate.

It was like one big beautiful thing.

Earth, Wind & Fire were very lovely.

They came right here in this house.

I invite them to come for dinner.
Some of them came.

And when they came,
I had a daughter, a pretty daughter.

One of them wanted the daughter,

but he didn't get that chance.

The staff all had their own quirks.

Blues, one of the drivers,

whenever he wanted to say something,
he'd go, "Let me talk."

Earth, Wind & Fire have a track
on that album called Let Me Talk.

For a band to come in
and write a song about a driver,

must've had an influence.

I think in order to build a studio
that people love,

it's all based around the staff.

Montserrat was a bit like Fawlty Towers.

It had these crazy characters
running around.

Because it was a single studio space,
with no other bands there,

the characters
that worked in the studios themselves

became part of people's lives.

Tappy Morgan, or George Morgan,
was the chef.

He was great. He was very emotional.

We all remember George, the chef,
I think.

He was quite an imposing gentleman.

That was the best job

I ever had in my entire life.

Every band... gave me a big tip.

And you know the reason why?

Because I made them good food.
And everybody was happy.

Phil Collins, Eric Clapton, Mick Jagger,
Keith Richards, Paul McCartney.

All the guys liked the island.
They called it Strangers' Paradise.

Do you want something else to drink?

We would all be in the office,
and we had this telex machine.

Remember we didn't have email
or any of this stuff in those days.

We would be there, and suddenly
you would hear tap, tap, tap...

And we would walk out there
and have a look.

"Paul McCartney,
2nd February to 28th February."

And that would be it.

Something like that.

I know what it is.
You need to go to the G.

After the Beatles,
none of us wanted to work with George.

It wasn't that we didn't want
to be produced by him.

We all would have loved the discipline
and the expertise that George has,

but it was that he'd been associated
with the Beatles.

We were very
apprehensive about it to begin with,

both of us I think,

because although we've been
very good friends over the years,

not having actually had
to have the hassles of working,

we were all
a little bit not sure about it.

At that stage, Paul
was working with my father near London

on two albums,
Tug of War and Pipes of Peace,

and my father persuaded Paul
to go to Montserrat.

Because I was the chief engineer,
I got the call from George, like,

"You built this place."

If Paul McCartney's coming in
and it's a success,

it's like getting
the housekeeping seal of approval.

So, it better work.

It's now 14 hours
since John Lennon was shot here,

at the entrance to the Dakota Building
on West 72nd Street

in the center of New York.
In those 14 hours,

there has been a crowd here
standing in more or less silent vigils.

The flowers have been piling up
at the gate.

I feel frightfully sorry
for Yoko and Sean,

and all the people who loved him so much.

I also feel very angry, that it's
such a senseless thing to happen,

that one of the great people
that have happened this century

can be just wiped out by madness.
I'm very angry about it.

Paul came down to the island,

sadly only a few weeks after Lennon died.

And it was touch and go before Christmas

as to whether this actually
was going to happen.

They were very, very nervous.

An entire security firm
from New York City flew down

ahead of the band arriving.

And they would go everywhere,
just to protect the band.

And they didn't even have a good time,
because they were just being a nuisance.

You don't need that security
in Montserrat.

You need to understand,
that in Montserrat,

if you're a cricketer or an athlete,

people will be asking for your autograph.

If you're a musician, they hear you
on the radio all the time, no big deal.

So they sent
their security guards packing.

They would chill out in Kinsale,
in Salem, at the local bars.

Just chill out like how we are right now,

and drink and get drunk and carry on
and all of that, no big deal.

Paul turned up
with a whole entourage of stars.

Through Carl Perkins
and Stanley Clarke on bass

and Stevie Wonder, of course.

I had this song called Ebony and Ivory,

which is about harmony between races.

Because it was Ebony and Ivory,

I thought, "I'll be the ivory,
so I need an ebony."

So, I thought my best choice would be
Stevie Wonder, if I could get him.

So, I telephoned Stevie and said,
"Do you like the idea of doing this?"

And he said, "Yeah."
So he came down to Montserrat.

I think they liked the whole experience.

When the recording was going well
and everything was happening,

they'd take some time off,
and they wanted to go and play.

So they'd go down to the local bar
and they would jam.

There was one night, Stevie said to me,

"I wanna go and play somewhere.
Can you fix it up?" I said, "Sure."

I phoned up the Agouti and I said,
"Is your piano plugged in on the stage?"

And they said,
"Yeah, but we're just about to close."

And I said, "No, don't do that.
Don't you close tonight."

And Stevie went down there and played.

He played there till four in the morning.

So, at the end of the night...

At that time, we were playing
for ten percent of the bar.

Whatever the bar take was,
we would get ten percent.

That night, we got a lot of money

because Stevie Wonder left US$5.000
in the bar for the band.

So among the five of us,
we got about US$1.000 each.

That was our biggest payday.

For us, in Montserrat,

it was just amazing.
There's not a word to describe that.

And in someplace else,
you couldn't pay for it.

I want everybody to say this.
Say it. Wait.

Say it.

Say it.

Say it.

When Stevie Wonder arrived,

he and Paul were having
such a good time in the studio,

the sessions were overrunning

and Paul, I think he had
Air Force Two booked

to go back from Antigua back to London.

I can remember sitting next
to the telex machine

and this huge great telex
comes rattling through saying,

"If you don't get here
in the next two hours,

we have to change the crews out again

and it will cost you another $10.000",
or whatever it was.

And I just kind of turned to John
at the time and just said,

"That's about what we're charging him
a week, isn't it?"

When the band finished,
we took them all to the airport,

we loaded them on their planes,
waved our bye-byes, and they all left.

We would all drive up to St George's Hill

and we would all sit up there,
maybe having a beer,

really not saying much,
just clearing our heads.

And then, OK, back to the studio.

And that was it.
Relaxation over and we'd get back.

But that was special,
we'd just gotten through a gig,

and everything was done,
everything was fine.

Now we were going back
to get ready for the next one.

1981, we didn't have a day off.
We worked back to back.

We were coming out
of the punk scene in London,

which went from about 1977 to about 1980.

Then it sort of petered out.

But it was a wonderful,
colorful moment in music history.

It was the crucible for The Police,
that's where we started.

The Police made three albums

in dingy, sunless recording studios
in England and in Holland,

where we would work
from ten in the evening till dawn.

And we lived that kind of existence
for a couple of years.

Welcome to MTV Music Television,

the world's first
24-hour stereo video music channel.

I think the success of The Police
really was a happy accident,

because it was
the beginning of the MTV era,

and we had a whole slew of videos
we'd already made

and there was this channel,
custom-built to receive these videos.

And we became a staple on MTV,
which, of course, added to our success.

It's nice to be here in Athens.

What d'you call the place?
Athena or something?

By the third album,
we'd had a couple of hits

and the record company are saying,

"This is now going to be the big one,
if you get this next album right."

And the record company
were there with us to ensure

that we did not stray from the path
of commercial success.

So, for the next album we went 12 hours'
flight away from the record company,

down in the Caribbean,
at Montserrat Studios.

And it just looked like
we would have died and gone to heaven.

Because there was a tropical sea
and beautiful skies,

and jungle and a swimming pool
right outside of the studio.

And you could actually see
the daylight through the studio.

This was sort of the rock-star dream.

A fantastic state-of-the-art studio
in the Caribbean.

I mean, this was it, this was like
the Beatles or something.

We sort of reached the pinnacle
with going to those studios.

George would come in occasionally,

but he wasn't our producer.

Our producer was a man
called Hugh Padgham.

George was more of
a presiding genius around.

He was rarely in the studio with us.

The team were wonderful.
They looked after us.

I would run up the hill every morning
from the villa and jump in the pool,

and then write lyrics or write a tune,
and then make the album.

I developed
a relationship with the island

and the people who live there.

I learned to windsurf on Montserrat.
I was taught by a guy called Danny.

He was very patient with me
because I was a very slow learner.

He's a very brilliant man,
very good friend of mine.

Respects me much.

He said, "Danny, you taught me something
that I'd never known how to do.

The people teach me or taught me things,

they are my hero,
and you are one of my hero."

Right, the dance steps.

We did some backing vocals
for The Police.

It was quite funny, actually.

Twice, I went into the studio
to do backing vocals.

They're the same.

Everybody come and sing.
-Everybody come and sing.

They wanted, like, a choir.
-Sound like a choir.

Hang on, stop.

OK, I understand.

By this time in our career,
our main songwriter had a technique,

which is to not reveal his songs
until we needed them.

And this song came in
and we heard the demo,

and we all could hear right away

that the demo Sting made by himself,
it's already a hit.

Just put that sucker out right away.

But that didn't suit
our self-image as a band.

And we tried every way.
The punk version, the reggae version.

And so, eventually, one morning
I arrived in the studio, "Fuck it!

Just fucking play your fucked-up demo,

just fucking... just tell me
where the fucking changes are!"

I knew where the changes were,
because we'd tried it every which way.

It's a complicated song
with a lot of different parts.

And so, "OK, roll tape
and I'll play with the demo."

And we did,
and the record that is the record

is that morning recording
of that song in one take.

Then we recorded in the studio.

I think Andy was dancing
on George's prized mixing desk,

which didn't go down well
with Mr. Martin.

But he didn't harm it.
He was very light.

We just had fun, it was a fun video.

Being on an island like that,
you can be in the bungalow

in a dry, dusty patch of sand
down near the beach,

and you'll be on your own,
there is no one else.

So it was kind of isolating, and it
brought out some really good things.

Ghost in the Machine
was another major hit album,

but my wife called me and said,
"I want to get divorced", that's it.

In fact, I think was all three of us
probably got divorced

or started divorce proceedings
during Ghost in the Machine.

It was a period of stratospheric success.

The part of that, the speed
and the size of that success,

also distorts your perception of it.

And we were so filled
with this forward momentum,

we didn't really get a chance
to appreciate it,

except for Montserrat,
which allowed us to calm down.

Music is the liquid architecture
of our emotions,

and George was a wonderful architect.

He had a way of putting things in place,
in the right place.

In a place that was comfortable
and a place that grew, it was fruitful.

The first main wave of success
for Elton and the band

was really from,
like, 1971, '72 till '76.

Just a four-piece
with Elton, me, Dee and Nigel.

We'd made
all those classic records in the '70s,

and then there was a gap
where we weren't all together.

We all did different things.
Elton retired.

And he called me in '81 and said,
"I'm gonna put the band back together."

I don't know.

I was recording with Elton, in Paris,

and we weren't getting much done.

Um... that's the diplomatic answer.

I spoke to Elton's manager.

He went to see Elton,
and all of a sudden...

This was, I think, on a Tuesday
and we were flying back to London.

And I was told that we were actually
going to Montserrat on Friday.

We arrived there, and it was
just such a shock to suddenly be there.

It was like,
"Oi! What are we doing here?"

We had a couple of days to get over
the jetlag, and then we were off.

Montserrat was a whole different deal.

The room was fantastic.
It just had a great atmosphere.

It had George all over it, the studio.
It was just so cool.

I hadn't got any material
before I arrived in Montserrat,

and I wrote 12 songs there.

It's always the danger
that you might not be able to write.

So I quite like that.

For the first half an hour
when I was trying to write,

I couldn't write anything
and I was panicking.

But the way we write, it's very strange.
With Bernie and I, it's something...

It just works, there's a magic there.

Until Too Low for Zero,
with Elton and Bernie,

it had been all over the place.

They hadn't been together much,
hadn't been writing together.

And this was the first album back.
It was all Bernie.

And all the original band.

So it was quite a remarkable event.

We were all on the same wavelength.

We didn't have to tell each other
how it should be.

And the beauty also was
that we heard the songs being written.

So we were in there from the start.

I remember the day

that we wrote I Guess That's Why
They Call It the Blues,

because to me, it's one
of the greatest love songs of all time.

And we wrote it in 20 minutes.
Again, it wasn't like a big thing.

It was like, "OK, this, this, this.
Yeah, that sounds great."

And, "Let's get the guys in,
let's record it."

There was something
about being on the same site.

It has this strange effect
of bringing everybody together.

One day, Elton said,
"Where'd did you go last night?"

I said, "We went to this new place.
We found this new place."

He said, "Where is it?"
I said, "I'll show you."

So, we were driving along

and we go past this totally rundown place

with a bit of corrugated iron
over the top.

And Elton goes, "I love places like that.

Nobody ever invites me
to places like that."

I'm going, "Yeah, sure!"

It's, you know, the bloke
who lives in the Ritz all the time.

So, we went there.

All right now, this is
where we do portionable dining.

The Village Place
was just like ordinary place,

like in the ghetto,

where everybody hangs around
and they serve chicken wings

and you go into the bar
and have some bush rum.

But I liked Elton John very much,

because he makes
the whole place lively, very lively.

Yeah, whenever he come here,
man, he just come out,

and start dancing.
-He's a good guy.

Just dancing in the yard.

He was a good guy.

He would take off his shades
and give it to whoever wanted it.

Whenever he goes to the Village Place,
the bar is open until he leave.

Open bar. Anybody who come here,
you get free drinks.

He runs an open tab.
That's him. He's very generous.

Guys that are down,
he brings them up, you know?

After dinner,

we would all congregate back into
the control room with pina coladas

and sit back and listen to the album.

And then, Elton would play it again.
And then, a third time.

About a week into the album,

everybody went to bed after playing
the album through only once,

which upset Elton.

He started ranting about
something about throwing...

"It was a shit album.
I'm gonna throw the tapes in the pool."

And Mike, very, very swiftly,
brilliant idea,

gave him about six blank two-inch tapes.

Elton went out and threw
the whole lot in the swimming pool.

That could've been the album.

When we were working on Too Low for Zero,

Dee had been suffering from cancer.

So he wasn't in the studio all the time.

Then we got a phone call
one morning saying,

"Nigel can't come in.
He's not very well."

So Elton went, "What the fuck?"

He said, "They're all dropping
like flies!"

And over there in the distance,
there's a kind of shelf by the window

separating the control room
and the studio,

and there's this huge cloud
of marijuana smoke.

And lying there, absolutely prone,

was Adrian who was in charge
of all the logistics for the recordings.

Out of this smoke this voice said,
"Well, I'm still standing."

Elton and I just looked at each other,
we just collapsed with laughter.

Then, the next minute,
Elton picked himself up,

phoned up Bernie and said,
"I want you to write this song."

George Martin came down

when we were there
doing T oo Low for Zero.

And later on, Chris told me
that George had said to him

that he couldn't believe the chemistry

that was happening between
the four of us in the studio. And...

The only thing that he could liken it to
was when he worked with the Beatles.

When we heard that, it was like,
"Shit, OK, I like that."

I've got the same people around me now
as I did 15 years ago.

We've been through ups and downs.

And the pleasure of it all is being
able to share it with these people,

and after all that time,
still be with them,

and I think we're playing better.

And it feels fantastic

to be able to get a second chance
at having that enthusiasm.

And so, that more than anything else,
it means a lot to me.

We did all have good,
fun times. He did three albums with us.

One time, he said
that he was leaving at 21st December.

We were all getting excited because
Montserrat's carnival is at Christmas.

So, we're all thinking, "Soon as the
band have gone, we'll all be partying."

And he's like, "I think I'll stay."
So he stayed.

We had a fantastic time.

It was like a big family, sitting
at the table, enjoying Christmas.

So, maybe with Elton,
the excesses were very, very big,

but it didn't make him happy.

It might not have been
anything to do with Montserrat,

but he did have an experience
that quite changed him, obviously.

It was a place that was put there

for people to understand themselves,
to inspire the world.

Because there was a lot of stuff
came out of Montserrat that is forever.

One, two.
-One, two.

In London,
I was often overdubbing in the studios

on work that had come from Montserrat.

I would say sometimes,
"This is from Montserrat."

They'd say, "How did you know?"

I'd say, "I can hear it,
believe it or not."

There's something in the air
that's surrounding these notes.

There's a sympathy between the notes,
an understanding.

That can only come
when you're working with George

or in one of his environments.

The '80s was probably

one of the most inventive decades
for pop music.

You'd had the punk movement in '76, '77,
then you had new wave,

bridged the gap
from the '70s into the '80s.

And then you had this thing
called the New Romantics,

which was Duran Duran,
Spandau Ballet, Culture Club.

And Duran were the biggest of the bunch.

We'd just finished the Rio album,

and we were chasing The Police,

because they were
a little bit older than us.

They were ahead of us in America,
and it was time to make another album.

And then we thought,
"We can't go back to England."

Because it was just a little too crazy
with all the hysteria at that point.

We couldn't really move in the street.

So we wanted
to get as far away as we could.

AIR Studios Montserrat looked
very appealing from the brochures.

And, of course,
having George Martin involved,

we figured that everything's
gonna be perfect there.

When we arrived, it was like
being in a surrealist painting.

You go, and there's black sand
everywhere, and the volcano,

and these giant iguanas.

One thing that was a bit of a shock

was that we were used to living our lives

completely under media scrutiny.

And it was days when you'd wake up

and there'd be someone hiding
in your hedge in your front garden.

You'd have to draw the curtains quickly
when you're having breakfast.

So, suddenly there, there was no one.

It was like suddenly going under water
and there was silence.

In Montserrat, we had fun.

We're not that straight-laced.
We're making rock 'n' roll.

When we first arrived,

and when we made it known
to the staff at the studio

that we wanted some grass,

within, I don't know, 15 minutes,
some kid arrived with a plant

that he just uprooted
and stuck in a carrier bag.

For Simon, he loves sunshine
and he loves being outdoors

and he loves boats and water.

So it was a dream to be able
to be at a studio in the Caribbean,

do a few hours' work,
then go off and have fun in the sea.

For me,
really hot climates and isolation,

personally are not
so great for creativity

when you wanna do something
with a little experimentation.

And so I really had a bit
of personality clash with it creatively.

And I ended up working
into the night mostly in the studio,

because there was no disruptions,
people weren't running out of the door

to jump in the swimming pool
every five minutes.

And I could actually focus on things.

But, having said that,
when we were there,

we got the basis for
the Seven and the Ragged Tiger album,

The Reflex and The Union of the Snake.

Being in Montserrat, you certainly felt
isolated from the real world.

It did end up feeling like
we were disconnected from the fans

because we were just living in paradise,

and that's why we decided
we need to finish the album in a city.

We went to Montserrat
with all good intentions,

and to George Martin's great credit,

he pulled off something
that was pretty extraordinary.

But I'm not sure
that we were in the right headspace

to make the kind of record there

that might have been
a little more chilled.

We wanted
to make something full of energy.

Duran Duran came, and they were young.

As they were there, I think two of them
celebrated their 21st birthday.

And they were
at the height of their fame.

So, of course, they were probably
wanting to be in the jet-set place.

So, it wasn't exactly right for them.

We had some other bands like Ultravox.
They were young at the time.

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
they came.

But it was right for them

because they were ready to enjoy
what Montserrat offered.

We went to Montserrat once and recorded.

That wasn't a good experience for me.

Palm trees and the ocean
and the sand's too relaxing.

I need to hear traffic.

They sold Valium over
the counter, which was fucking insane

because you'd walk into the store and go,

"I'll have a bottle of shampoo,
packet of razorblades,

50 Valium and a Mars bar."

We got on this little plane,
propeller plane.

And the pilot's got a joint in his hand.

I'm going, "This doesn't look too safe."

I've seen bands that came down and...

changed, like, their work pattern.

They say it themselves. "Wow!
We did such and such in two days.

It's unbelievable. We've never done
that before. That was a six-week job."

The place was like that.
It made you intense.

It sort of intensified everything
that you were.

But it also got a reputation for a place
where you could get things done.

One of the things that happened
with a lot a very famous people

was they lost sight
of how they became famous.

Coming to an island like this,

you were shoved
straight back into each other's faces

and you had to go and make another album.

But at the moment,
I want to have a fight.

Much better television
than your questions,

I promise you.
-OK.

Shall we film me whopping Sting?
-Yes. That would be great.

The Police, album one, album two,

it was us against the world.

By the time we got up to Synchronicity,
we were world-famous,

everything had changed, and it was,
"Why should we be a band anymore?"

Shall we tune the guitar for you, man?

So when we got back to Montserrat,

we were so isolated from each other,

that it got really difficult to...

you know, imagine being in the studio
and making a record.

It was sort of icy.

We went there for the isolation,

but we soon found
that without anything else around us,

we had only each other
to drive each other bananas.

And we all saw the irony of it,

although we were screaming
and shouting at each other,

that here we were in this paradise,
which we soon turned into a living hell.

Yeah!

I was the only one, personally,
the guitar player

in the studio itself,
this recording room.

Then there was the control room,
where the Neve desk was.

Sting was in there playing his bass,
and Stewart was up in the dining room.

We were playing together,
but weren't seeing each other.

We were all completely isolated
and playing through headphones,

which was sort of bizarre.

What they all wanted in those days,

this is a different period
of recording techniques,

was perfect separation.

And that's what we had,

and that's what we were gonna be
as people too, perfect separation.

I did not like recording
in the dining room,

because it was lonely and grumpy.

And it wasn't the feeling
of what I liked about the band,

which was the interaction.

That's what we did live
and what's so exciting.

But it was quite miserable.
I couldn't wait to get off that island

and put it behind me, and have it done.

Well, the conflict in the band
is kind of storied

and it may well be exaggerated.

But for me, it was a function
of the creative process.

You have three alpha males
trying to forge something

that points in one direction
and not three.

We weren't physically aggressive
with each other,

but it got pretty heated in there

but really because we cared passionately
about what each of us were doing.

And, um... But it was not easy.

It was great to have an environment
around us where you could escape to.

I could go walking in the hills.

In fact, I went up to the volcano
a couple of times.

You'd come back smelling of sulfur.
People would think you'd been to hell.

So, back to the top?

It's OK. All right, yeah, it sounds OK.
It's C, F and A now, yeah.

We got to a point fairly early on

where we almost couldn't
speak to each other.

It was tense, the atmosphere was tense,
like we shouldn't be doing this anymore.

We need a producer.

I said, "What about George Martin?
He produced the Beatles. Surely?"

And we were up there,
so he'll probably take the job.

Sting and Stewart said,
"Well, you go and get him then."

So I said, "Right, I will."

We sat down and he said,
"Would you like a cup of tea?"

I said I'd have a cup of tea.
So we're having a cup of tea.

I start to tell him
about the problems with the band.

And I said, "We'd like you
to come over and produce us."

He said, "Um... not sure."

Maybe he wasn't
in the producing mood at that point.

He said, "I think you can sort it out.
You're grown-ups."

Come on, I think you can do it.
There's a lot at stake here."

So, we had a very nice time
having tea and chatting.

I walked all the way back
across the valley in the beating heat,

and we were all incredibly polite
to one another

and very nice for the rest of the album.

That cured it.

Every Breath You Take was very different

from most of our other recordings,

because it was pieced together
bit by bit.

It was another song
that we knew was a huge hit.

Do not mess with it,
do not get in the way of a big hit.

So every element was recorded
completely separately.

And the result is actually kinda cool.

It's very composed,
all the parts are very composed.

And at the same time,
emotionally very powerful.

You know, maybe the best music
comes out of this sort of tension.

I've always believed that.

I think that The Police
had three distinct personalities

which were not the ideal bedmates,
because we weren't mellow guys.

But I think that firecracker complex
is what sort of fuels the music.

In hindsight, it was worth it,
and we could all see...

When we had calmed down, left the island
and we went back to the real world,

all those battles that we'd fought

and arguments about what we were gonna
do and how we were gonna do it,

they were worth it, because
it really did light the thing up.

And we all can say
that if I'd had my way every day,

it wouldn't have been
a great album that it was.

If we had let Sting get away
with every commandment,

and if Andy had put in
every guitar solo, uh...

it wouldn't have been the same thing.

We kind of needed each other
to restrain and incite each other.

Synchronicity was our biggest success.

It had songs like Every Breath You Take,

and King of Pain
and Wrapped Around Your Finger.

But I did decide during that recording
that I didn't want to do this again.

That we had achieved everything
we set out to do as a band,

and achieved it tenfold, a hundredfold
more than our expectations,

and so, after that, I figured
it would just be diminishing returns.

So I wanted to use the momentum
we'd gained to set out on my own.

After we finished the Police album,
Sting stays there for a bit of a holiday

and the next band in is Dire Straits,
and the rest is history.

I want my MTV!

I've seen on MTV
The Police doing an ad for it.

And I thought, "If I stick that
to Don't Stand So Close to Me,

those notes, that would fit."

Anyway, we were recording
Money for Nothing,

and I said to somebody,
"I wish Sting was here."

And somebody said,
"Well, he is here, he's on holiday."

Ow!

Trudie said to me,
"That's gonna be such a huge hit."

I said, "I dunno, it's OK."

Of course, it was the biggest hit
of that year, so I was very...

very proud to have been on that,
but it's purely a function

of just being in the right place
at the right time.

There'd been something
going on with the other albums.

There'd been a sort of a build-up,
because we were playing live

and there was a big demand
to see the band live.

Because the feeling was
that not only could we do it all live,

but it was better
than playing the records.

That was reaching
a sort of critical mass.

Mark wanted to try something different

in the approach
to recording Brothers in Arms.

After we did Love Over Gold,
we were both displeased

with how analogue tape would change
the sound of our recordings

while we were doing it.

Dire Straits' manager
was conscious of that

and encouraged Mark to record the album
digitally and mix it digitally.

So, it was an all-digital recording
ultimately winding up on CD.

And it was one of the first records
to be done that way,

and I think he wanted the time
and the peace and quiet of Montserrat

to do it there.

If you come into a studio
from Oxford Circus,

you'll be slightly hyper.

You've come out of the Tube,
or wherever you've come from,

and you're in a different mental place.

When you come from the track
up to the studio in Montserrat,

you go in the kitchen, you see George

and you get a cup of coffee
and you're wandering around.

And it's just more of a home studio vibe.

But there's no getting away
from the fact that that kind of life,

a rum-punch evening
and a later start kind of a thing,

it will start to worm its way
into your work methods.

It would be a lie
to say we came away from there

without being touched deeply
by the place.

The sound of the island
does come across on the record.

I mean, it was almost too chill in a way.

I remember, we were doing some track
a couple of weeks into the record,

and I was looking out
and everybody was in a towel

with sun cream on the nose, sunglasses.

They were playing,
like, 40 beats per minute.

I was like, "We're making a record here!
What is this?"

It was too mellow.

At any time in the studio,
it's very easy to lose perspective,

especially when you're locked up
and it becomes your whole world.

In fact, George Martin,
down in Montserrat said to me,

"You know, Neil,
a producer can either drive the bus

or he can sit next to the driver
with the roadmap, you know?"

And it was up to me
to sort of keep that energy higher,

because the record, I think,
was suffering.

Neil would be one of
the most important people in my history.

You know, it's due to him
that we got back on track.

We were there a long time
before trying to get it going, but...

Once we hit a groove we recorded
the album very quickly, really fast.

All the Brothers in Arms album
was done in a few days.

In a lot of our spare time,
we used to go down to the beach,

and we soon noticed
there were a couple of windsurf boards,

and that Danny was offering
to teach windsurfing.

I becomes friends
with the Dire Straits band.

That's after I had taught Alan Clark
and Guy Fletcher to windsurf.

So one day after I and Alan Clark went
windsurfing and come out, Alan said,

"I'm taking you up to the AIR Studios
for lunch."

I said, "OK", and I went up

and they're there,
and they're mixing the music they did.

I started dancing to the music,
and then he said to me,

"You know I wrote a song
on you dancing?" I said,

"Mark, that's going to be
a damn big recording hit for you.

I'm predicting to you,

that is going to be your biggest album
that you ever make."

Now, it's one
of the biggest album in the world.

Everybody loves the song Walk of Life.

Brothers in Arms was one
of the first all-digital recordings,

and that in tandem with MTV
blowing up at the same time,

I think that's a huge reason

why everything changed for the band
at that point.

OK, best British LP.

Brothers in Arms, Dire Straits.

I didn't have a clue about
how successful the album was.

I don't think we did.
Never thought about it.

When Philips invented the CD
and then brought it out,

that just coincided
with the release of Brothers.

So they took that and used it as,
"This is what CD sounds like."

And then, they used all
their sales outlets to play the record.

So that was an additional thing
that just happened by a fluke, really.

In the '80s, somebody smart figured out

that you can make a boatload
of money in the record business.

And with the cheapness of CDs,

to make a CD, to fully manufacture,
everything was less than a dollar.

So, there was a calculation there,

and like everything in the modern world,
it quickly became monetized.

There was a lot of excitement
associated with the coming of the CD.

The consumer loved it.

As a result, the record industry
exploded at that point.

It was a real shot in the arm,
coming to Montserrat.

It was a real special event for us.

It still is, it's in our memories,
it's still our favorite album.

For us, the Rolling Stones
coming to the studio was a big thing.

Because obviously, George
is more associated with the Beatles,

and we'd had Keith Richards in doing
the X-Pensive Winos and it was fabulous.

I was talking to Keith Richards before,

when he came to do his solo.

He did a solo record.

I was talking to him

and I told him, "The Rolling Stones
is one of my favorite bands."

I asked him
if they were coming back together.

And he said to me, "I am the only man
who could put the band back together,

and I'm going to put it back together
and we'll come here and record."

And they did come to Montserrat.
-Yeah, man.

Keith has always insisted
that Mick is the lead singer,

as he is in the Rolling Stones,
and he shouldn't do anything else.

They just weren't getting on.

We might as well start
by posing the question

of whether the release
of a Mick Jagger solo album

means the end of the Rolling Stones?

I'd done stuff with other people
and the odd thing here and there.

I'd obviously played with other bands
and jammed around,

but I thought it was a good moment

to break the pattern
of just doing a Stones album

and just do something of my own
for a change and step out a bit.

If Mick's albums had have been
blockbusters, so to speak,

whatever that means, uh...

it would be very unlikely
that I would be leaving tomorrow,

to start making a new Stones album.

Going down to Montserrat,

I was quite fearful
of going down with the Stones,

because working on four or five albums
with them previously,

I knew
that they were very much city bound.

I think they were quite amazed
how normal everybody was, really.

It's like when a band like the Stones
suddenly appears on the island,

the expectation can be something so big,
it can freak you out.

Keith Richards, all the guys,

they drink a lot,
they smoke a lot, they eat a lot.

As I say,
they were a whole set of good guys.

Don't go mad on the drums though, OK?

Looking at the body language

between, especially Mick and Keith
in Montserrat,

it was very different to what I'd seen,

and this was one of the most friendly
and warming atmospheres

I've seen between Mick and Keith.

We both agreed
the best thing for the both of us

is to get together. Like, nobody else.

And it's very strange
that it's easy between the two of us.

It's when other people are around
that it can be a problem.

I think after the second day,
we had three or four songs already.

When you start off on a roll like that,
it helps, you know?

Peter Mensch and Cliff Burnstein
came down,

and we were listening back
to Mixed Emotions.

Peter Mensch was talking to Keith

suggesting that an arrangement change
should be made.

At which point,
Keith delved into his doctor's bag,

one of these beautiful
old leather doctor's bags,

and bought out a knife
and pinned it between his legs,

and said to Peter
something in the terms of,

"Listen, sonny, nobody tells
the Rolling Stones how to write a song."

Which I thought was classic, wonderful.
And the arrangement never changed.

If I get up there,
we need another chord in there.

I think we have to take another minor.
-Yeah, one more minor, F, F and G.

I like it.

Montserrat was a huge part
of rebooting the Stones,

helping them get back together,
particularly Mick and Keith.

It was pretty sad when we all left

because they hadn't been that close
for such a long time.

There was a sense of, um, you know,

when you finish school
for the first time and you all break up.

It was a bit like that,
breaking up for the summer holidays.

They weren't going to see each other
for a long time.

One, two, three.

Good morning, everybody.

We're very pleased to announce
that we are doing a big tour this year.

And we've got a new album which comes
out and that's called Steel Wheels.

The first single's called Mixed Emotions.

I know you're dying to ask questions,

like, "Will this be
the last tour you ever do?"

Well, the Stones were
the last band to record in Montserrat.

There's been a few studios that they've
been the last people to record in,

but they're not the reason
that they've closed down.

It's always an act of God.

The thing about the Stones
is that they do this thing

where, in the old days,
they used to trash things.

They said, "This is what we usually do.
On the last day, we trash the place."

In a way, Hurricane Hugo did it for them

because as soon as they'd gone,
the hurricane hit.

Hurricane Hugo wiped
us out, it wiped the island out almost.

There are only 12.000 people
living on the island,

and 11.000 of them lost their homes.
It was pretty devastating.

But they picked themselves up

and it took a year,
or a bit more than a year

to get back anything like normal.

I wasn't able to get to Montserrat
after the hurricane

until after about six weeks.

So I got a flash lamp
and I went into the studio

to see how that had fared.

Went over to the piano
and opened the keyboard,

and all the ivory keys
were covered in green mold.

And I realized then we were done.

By the time the hurricane hit,
it was becoming a burden to them.

The kind of budgets that people had
were long gone.

The accountants were really starting
to dig into the music business,

and it wasn't the era
that we built it for.

I think technology
changed, things moved to digital.

And so, just the equipment levels...

Recording studios started changing a lot.

They became more accessible,

album budgets started getting cut.
All of these things.

Recording studios,
they all have a shelf-life,

because in the end, they are ruled
by forces that are bigger than us.

I think the demise of the album

is directly related
to the shift from analog to digital.

A lot of the restrictions we dealt with
in recording analog

were lovely parameters
to keep the reins kinda tight.

And with digital came unlimited options,

and I think things took
a pretty serious shift at that change.

It's as if there is something there

that drew all that music,
drew all that creativity,

and then it was like,
"The power's gone now."

So, that's finished and move on.

We heard that our volcano was dormant,

but we never understood
until our volcano started erupting

that dormant
actually meant potentially active.

And so, I was in the studio.

One of the technicians came and said,
"Rose, the volcano is erupting."

I sat before the microphone, I said,
"Everybody, I know that you are scared."

If you feel like praying, pray.
If you feel like crying, cry.

But I'll be here,
I'll be here with you all the way.

All the time, I'll be here, just keep
listening to the radio station.

"This is Rose. It's gonna be OK.
Just stay with me."

The sky was just, like, frightening.

Especially,
I can remember the first ash plume

that went up about 60.000 feet.

The whole island,
you have bright sunshine like this,

and suddenly it's like night,
you can't see a thing.

No one's here.

For me, it was a very,
very bad experience, it was very scary.

Because one night,
they tell you to go back home.

Before the night is out, you gotta move
in the middle of the night again,

and the next day you don't know
what to do, where you're gonna sleep.

Because all your mind, "Should I go home?

Should I stay in the shelter?"

You don't know what to do.
You're confused.

And you know, we didn't
understand the magnitude of an eruption,

what it can do to an island.

It entirely changed the entire landscape
in Montserrat and the whole country.

And I was amazed what could happen.

Many, almost all Montserratians
were displaced.

Whether they were
on that side or this side,

it was a rough time for everyone here.

And you just had to go somewhere else
and start over.

I hate the volcano.

I hated the fact
that it did so much to Montserrat.

I remember sailing past Montserrat

a few years after the volcano erupted,

and sailing past Plymouth

and just seeing
what looked like a nuclear winter.

It was covered in white dust.

This thriving, bustling Caribbean town
was a ghost town.

And it was frightening and upsetting,

because I had so many happy memories
of that place

with my bandmates,
my children, my family.

It makes me actually kind of tear up
when I think about it because...

it's a special place that was taken away,

that will never be the same again.

You can never go back
and get that same energy again.

And for the people that lived there,

for them to lose everything
in just one fleeting instant,

it devastates me.

Most of us cried,
because we lost our town.

We'd lost that important,
integral part of our history.

And I can close my eyes
and I'm still back there.

But since the volcanic activity,
Montserrat has grown in size,

and for me, I consider it to be
a pleasure to be around at this time

to see my island grow.

Because look at all the ash
and the new fertilizer it has brought.

And so, I consider the volcano
to be a perpetual part of who we are.

You can't really walk
around the estate now.

And so, I feel it was of a time.

And now it should slowly go back
to the jungle where it came from.

The '80s are like
a hundred years in the rear-view mirror.

It was a very special time,
and quality of studio, and vibe-wise,

the '80s was like the Renaissance,
the golden era of studio recording.

Those studios
are kind of an era that has gone.

Some types of music
are best recorded in a big room,

but you just get your drums
in that big room for a day,

and then you go back home and fiddle
with it on your own gear at home.

It's just not the way
artists make records anymore.

There's footage of that place,
there are photographs of that place,

there are living memories of that place.
That's history.

Whether it's around today,

it's something
that we still carry with us,

the ones who were lucky enough
to experience it.

It's still vibrant and alive to us.

As technology has evolved to the point

where, unbelievable, and people make
whole albums on their phone.

But I think the actual ingredients,
when you conceive of something,

head, and your heart,
your hands to play an instrument,

you use some kind of a recording device
to put it down,

those elements haven't changed.

It's like seeing something you've created

falling into disrepair.

But it's like everything in life,
isn't it?

Everything has a period.

You know, you bring something
out of nothing,

and it always goes back
to nothing again, whatever.

My father was a man
who got enormous pleasure

from other people's happiness.
He passed away years ago,

but he passed away as a very content man
with what he'd done with his life.

And Montserrat
was a huge part of that life,

and a huge part of a dream that
he fulfilled in doing something amazing.

I think that it had its natural end,
and that it was closure for him.

Shall we tune the guitar for you, man?

George knew the space between the notes

was as exciting as the note you played.

That rhythm that keeps us alive,
the heartbeat, it's in all of us.

It's the heartbeat
you hear in your mother's womb

that entices you out to dance.

And we need that. We need to touch base
with what we do as human beings.

And what better an example
than making music?

And it's about collaboration.

It's about the dream that George had
of that wonderful space in Montserrat

where you had the sun, the sea, nature,

each other's company and music.

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