Julian: "When critics say I'm doing this and that the same way as my father, it gets to be too much. I can't do anything about it."
John Charles Julian Lennon was born in Liverpool on April 8, 1963.
His parents, John and Cynthia Lennon named him after his father,
Charles after Cynthia's father and Julian because it was the nearest
they could get to John's mother's name, Julia. Three days after Julian's
birth, The Beatles' single, "From Me To You" began a record-breaking trail
of events that was to catapult John Lennon and the Beatles into unmatched
international stardom. Twenty-two years later, son Julian is still
digging out from under the fallout.
"It's up to one to try to keep the name Lennon going in music, " Julian Lennon says in his North Wales accent between drags on a cigarette. "I just want people to judge the music without prejudice. I can ask for no more."
He can ask for no more, but it won't be easy. The oldest son of John Lennon is such an eerie deadringer for his father that it takes a constant effort not to call him "John." Fortunately, he's compassionate about your problem. He too has trouble sorting Julian from John.
"When I was a baby and my parents were still together, I was called 'John' and there was always confusion. My mum would say, 'John come here,' and we wouldn't know which one. So they started calling me Julian to clear up that problem. The name fits me, " he recalls today.
For Julian, infant years meant homes in transit as his overwhelmed parents attempted to cope with the onslaught of Beatlemania. Moving from Liverpool to a flat in West Kensington, fans soon forced Cynthia to move to Weybridge, Surrey. Worst of all, mother and son were asked to hide their existence from the public. As Cynthia Lennon remembers today: "I was told to keep a low profile, to put it mildly. It wasn't considered good for the Beatles' image for John to admit to having a wife, and certainly not a child."
Between Beatles' manager Brian Epstein's determination to conceal John's wife and child from the world and Lennon's own estrangement due to fame and a growing fascination with mind-altering drugs, the stage was set for Julian's parents' divorce in 1968. Although the father / son relationship had never really jelled, when John met and fell in love with Yoko Ono, it really crashed.
Years later, John Lennon would tell a reporter that his resolve to spend time raising Sean, his son with Yoko, was partly "an attempt to atone for having missed Julian's childhood. There's a price to pay for inattention to children."
And Julian paid the price. Being separated from his father only added to the rigors of being the son of a legend. He felt rejected and hurt. "He never came to see me; I had to go to him. It's a shame, but you know, forgive and forget. I'd rather not think about the times I didn't see him."
What Julian does bless his father for is giving him his love of music: "He got me a drum kit when I was five and bought me my first guitar when I was eleven. When I saw him during school breaks, we'd sit and jam on rock 'n roll tunes and play some of his stuff, too. I'd love it when we'd sing and play together. I felt real close to him then. If he were still alive, we'd be playing together a lot."
By the time John rediscovered his oldest son, it was too late. Eight months after throwing him a much overdue birthday bash in Palm Beach, the father and son reunion was axed by a bullet outside the Dakota in New York City. Julian went crazy. Being the son of a murdered legend was more than he could bare. Hitting the socialite scene, he was exploited by hangers-on and used as a meal ticket by those who wanted publicity. Desperately seeking attention, he agreed to record some songs of his father's.
Eventually, Yoko came to his rescue, paying over $200,000 to the promoter to free her stepson from his folly. Portrayed as a drunken playboy, Julian seemed headed for some serious misery. Then suddenly, he pulled himself together. By 1983, Julian's manager, Dean Gordon, sent a tape of his songs to the U.K.-based Charisma label. In North America, he met Atlantic Records chairman, Ahmet Ertegun. Along with guitarist Justin Clayton and Carlton Morales, Julian took up resident in the remote Manoi de Valotte, a beautiful French chateau. There, he worked for three months, writing songs and making demo tapes. The nurturing of VALOTTE, Julian's debut album went into its final stage when producer Phil Ramone agreed to produce young Julian.
"I'm thrilled with the success of VALOTTE," Julian insists. "I know a lot of people compare me to my father. It drives me mad sometimes, thinking about it. I just want people to judge the music without prejudice. Sure, we sound alike. I open my mouth and that's what comes out. I don't force it. I didn't study my father's sound. It's all natural. I've been through periods when I was confused and didn't know what to do. I've made mistakes. It's just living, that's all."