The whole point of this book is that the Beatles are, were and will continue to be a cultural phenomenon unlike anything else the world has ever seen.”It’s not just a history of the Beatles, but of post-war British culture Mark is the person to bring the story to life He’s got a fantastic archive and is very well connected But it won’t be official. And it’s not a hagiography.”The first volume is likely to be released in 2008, coinciding with Liverpool’s year as European capital of culture. Subsequent volumes are expected to follow at four-yearly intervals.Asked whether another book on the Beatles was necessary, Paul Gambaccini, the DJ and pop expert, said: “History will need it. They are the Mozart of our time and in 100 years from now people will be glad that Mark Lewisohn has done it.”He is the right person to do it and it’s best to do so while the iron is still hot. Memories are still fresh and there can be corrections by survivors.

This is a historical record so let’s get it right.”Four years ago, The Beatles Anthology was published, billed as the official Beatles history through their own reminiscences.. What do a classical-music soloist, a celebrity chef, the chief executive of a failing company, and an electrician on the Channel Tunnel Rail Link have in common? According to a report in the April edition of Management Today magazine, they all rank in the top 10 most overpaid jobs in Britain. After blackening Michael’s name at every bar, the man had put up the libellous posters. This man, a Belgian property developer had devoted his twilight years to destroying Michael’s life, simply because Michael had built a terrace, well within the law, which overlooked the neighbour’s terrace. He seemed to have landed slap bang in the middle of The Zone. Coursay had everything – a fantastic square, a fabulous four-storey house that Michael had converted himself from a £20,000 ruin, a tiny caf?cross from his house where we drank endless cognacs and coffee on a tab.

Even being two hours late for lunch hadn’t caused more than a rather muted reception for our proffered bottle of wine (for some reason all the shops were shut when we tried to buy it).All was sunny and wonderful until I saw the placards around the town square. For there, in big letters, on plastic sealed signs screwed to the generic barn doors with “Interdit” signs you see in such squares, my friend Michael and his wife were accused of corruption, nepotism, intriguing, dishonesty and lying Michael had an enemy, who had gone public His next door neighbour. Or two hours in our case.”The road you come in on is said to be the most beautiful drive in the world,” Michael had said over the phone Not just France – the world I could feel The Zone beckoning Michael was the son of a family friend He had a French wife and kids and did web design. My son cried a lot and didn’t like the nomadic aspect of nomadism at all.The time lag disoriented me Shops seemed to shut before noon.

I grew sullen at hotels for stopping breakfast an hour early. Friends were slightly peeved when we breezed in a little late. I mean we thought we were a little late, so add that to the additional hour and we were very late. But no one said anything.We had very high hopes of finding a place near Coursay, a stunning village on a hill top about an hour from Toulouse. We would drive aimlessly around southern France, staying with friends, or at cheap hotels.