
(Credits: Far Out / Tony Barnard / Los Angeles Times / UCLA Library)
Sat 14 February 2026 21:30, UK
The song āBony Moronieā was a big hit in 1957 for the pioneering New Orleans rocker Larry Williams, so much so that just about any kid who picked up a guitar around that time knew the riff, something John Lennon probably should have realised.
By the time Lennon sat down in the studio to record his own version of it in 1973, however, he wasnāt in the best headspace for critical thinking. This was smack dab in the middle of the infamous āLost Weekendā, an embarrassing two-year period in which Lennon became a less-than-functional alcoholic, palling around with Harry Nilsson and wasting both of their talents on booze and debauchery.
The āBony Moronieā cover was part of the project that would eventually become the album Rock ānā Roll, a supposed celebration of the songs that had inspired Lennon in his youth and that had remained some of his favourites to play over the years. Unfortunately, he had contracted Phil Spector to produce the record, who was in an even worse state than he was. Along with a similar substance abuse problem, Spector was mentally unstable, firing off a shotgun inside A&M Studios at one point, and on another, absconding with the master tapes of the Rock ānā Roll sessions and disappearing for two months.
Dragged into this circus were the musicians whom Spector had hired to play on the record, including no shortage of esteemed names and session all-stars: Steve Cropper, Jose Feliciano, Leon Russell, Hal Blaine, Jesse Ed Davis, Eddie Moutau, and Jim Keltner, among many others. One session player who was credited as playing on Rock ānā Roll when it was finally released in 1975, however, now says that he doesnāt actually appear on the record.
In an interview last year on YouTube with Thinking About Guitar, the great session guitarist Larry Carlton discussed why he walked away after one frustrating night in the studio with Lennon. āIt was a 7 oāclock session,ā he recalled, āBy 9:30, still no John Lennon and Phil Spector. So [Leon Russell] and I are just sitting around A&M Studios⦠So, John and Phil finally get there, 10 oāclock or something, andāI didnāt tell this story for a lot of yearsābut it was a bad time for John. He was drinking.ā
Carlton was a fan of the ex-Beatle and had been excited about working with him, but he was also a seasoned pro. During the mid-70s, he recorded with a ridiculous variety of big-name artists, from Steely Dan, Joan Baez, and Joni Mitchell to the Four Tops, Barbra Streisand, and the Partridge Family, and was thus expecting a basic level of respect and professionalism.
āSo, weāre gonna do a song, and they call it āBony Moronieā,ā he continued, āWell, I played āBony Moronieā when I was 12 years old. So Iām in my cubby here, and Johnās right here, and heād been drinking, so heās calling the chord changes [as we play]. Thereās only three.ā
After listening to Lennon shout the simple chord changes at him during a few run-throughs, Carlton felt demoralised.Ā
āIt was a drag,ā he said, āIt was not professional⦠So we finished that nightās session, and I drove Leon Russell back to his hotel, and he said, with his Oklahoma accent, āIām back to Tulsa in the morningā. I got home and called Phil Spectorās office and just left a message at midnight and said, āSorry, I canāt make it for the rest of the weekā. So I cancelled. It wasnāt how I wanted to spend my time. It could have been so cool, but it was one of those things.ā
Sadly, Carlton never got to work with Lennon again, noting candidly, āIām an admirer, but that wasnāt a good timeā.