I was going through a hard period. I exhibited all the classic symptoms of the unemployed, the redundant man. First you don’t shave, and it’s not to grow a groovy beard, it’s because you cannot be fucking bothered.
Anger, deep deep anger sets in, with everything, with yourself number one, and with everything in the world number two. And justifiably so because I was being screwed by my mates. So I didn’t shave for quite a while. I didn’t get up. Mornings weren’t for getting up. I might get up and stay on the bed a bit and not know where to go, and get back into bed. Then if I did get up, I’d have a drink. Straight out of bed. I’ve never been like that.
There are lots of people who’ve been through worse things than that but for me this was bad news because I’d always been the kind of guy who could really pull himself together and think, Oh, fuck it, but at that time I felt I’d outlived my usefulness. This was the overall feeling: that it was good while I was in the Beatles, I was useful and I could play bass for their songs, I could write songs for them to sing and for me to sing, and we could make records of them. But the minute I wasn’t with the Beatles any more it became really very difficult. — Many Years From Now, Barry Miles
How did you feel through all that?
Crazy, just insane. So insecure. Half the reason I grew the beard.