Script #1 The Band That Had All the Breaks

"They had the sound of legends, the blessing of gods, and a future written in gold—until it all vanished."

They started with a golden ticket—championed by the most famous musicians in the world. Their songs were flawless, their future unstoppable. But what happened behind closed doors turned their dream into a nightmare, leaving a trail of silence, unanswered questions, and loss that still haunts decades later. This is the story of a band the world should have known… but never truly did.



Written by Jonny Hartwell
Voiced by Jonny Hartwell
Music Credit: Reel World Audio.
A iHeart Radio Production

Jonny’s Dead Air Podcast
Written, hosted, and produced by Jonny Hartwell.
A production of iHeartRadio Pittsburgh.

Thanks for listening—and for keeping the light on.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
And Welcome in. This is the first story of rock's
dark side, Echoes in the Legends, Legends and Lies, and
the first of Johnny's Dead Air Stories. A production of
iHeartRadio podcast Grip Number one, The Band that Had All

(00:23):
the Breaks, Act one The Spark. Let's rewind to the
late sixties, I mean really really rewind. Hear the faint
hiss of a needle, finding the groove, the smell of
the vinyl, see the album cover in your hands. This
is the golden age of the British Invasion. The Beatles
are bending the rules. One month it's Indian citars, the

(00:45):
next it's string quartets. The Stones are snarling through blues
riffs that sound dangerous the who they're taking apart their
instruments like demolition crews. Rock has grown up. It's no
longer just teenage singalongs. It's a can A big idea
is big risk and bold statements. Now pull the camera
back hundreds of miles from London's bright lights, we land

(01:09):
in Swansea Whales. The smell of coal smoke drifts over
terraced houses. The steel works loom in the distance. It's
a place of hard work and harder winters. But in
a basement, low ceilings, bare balls, secondhand ambs, buzzing. There's
a small band of young guys who are making something beautiful.
They've got it, they've got it. The harmonies tight enough

(01:31):
that you'd swear they shared a childhood bedroom. The song's
melodic and muscular, the lyrics equal parts hopeful and haunted,
like they've already lived more than their lives. They play anywhere,
pubs where you can reach the bar without leaving the stage,
dance halls where half the crowd are already drunk, and
in between their stuffing padded envelopes with demo tapes, licking

(01:54):
stamps and sending them off into the void. Weeks pass,
even months silence. Then everything changed. Just imagine it's a
damp Tuesday night. You're in a pub in Swansea. The
room smells like beer and cigarette smoke. The juke boxes
in the corner. It's broken. The band takes the stage,
no fanfare, no lighting cues, just a quick nod between

(02:17):
them accountant one, two, three, four Boom. The harmonies hit
like sunlight breaking through the clouds. You glance around. Even
the blokes at the bar stop talking mid sentence, and
for three minutes, everyone in the room knows they're hearing
something rare. Act two break number one, one of those

(02:39):
demo tapes makes its way into a hands by the
name of Mal Evans. If you've never heard of Mal, well,
you definitely heard of the people. He works for, The Beatles. Yeah,
the Beatles. Mal isn't just a road manager. He's part friend,
part fixer, and part bodyguard. He's been at Shaye Stadium
in the studio during the White album. He even was

(03:01):
there during the famous rooftop performance. He listens to that
tape and here's the thing. He doesn't just hear potential,
he hears kinship. These songs feel like they belong in
the same orbit as Lennon McCartney. Not copies, but cousins.
Mal takes it to Apple Records, the Beatles shiny new label.

(03:22):
Apple's a mix of idealism and chaos. Free milkshakes in
the canteen, secretaries in mini skirts, famous faces drifting in
and out. And here's the magic moment. The Beatles themselves
listen to this tape. All four, not a junior exec,
not a committee, the actual Beatles. They like it, They

(03:43):
really like it. Soon the band is offered a deal
of a lifetime to sign with Apple Records, the first
assign to that record label, and to record in the
world's most famous studio. And if they're lucky, they'll get
a direct help from the Beatles themselves, which is break
number two, now break number three. One of the Beatles,

(04:04):
Paul McCartney, himself, arguably arguably the greatest songwriter of the
twentieth century, hands them a brand new song. He doesn't
just give it to him. He sits down at the piano,
plays it through and through and says, here's how I
want you to record it, and they follow his instructions exactly.
The song comes out. The UK loves it, the US

(04:26):
loves it even more. Almost overnight, they've gone from nobody's
to international chart contenders. Can you imagine walking into Abbey
Road Studios for the first time, The smell of warm tape,
crushed out cigarettes and coffee, the soft hum of amps
in the corner, the knowledge that this is where a
day in a life was recorded. An engineer points to

(04:47):
a set of headphones and says, McCartney, use those. You
sit down and for a second you just breathe. You're here,
Act three in the circle Now working with the Beatles
isn't just flattering. It's a masterclass in how to make
records that last forever. They watch George Harrison sculpt a

(05:10):
slide guitar part here Ringo's uncanny knack for playing exactly
what a song needs and not a beat more. They
see how arrangements change in real time, how great songs
are built brick by brick. In nineteen seventy one, they
get a call from George. He's organizing a concert for Bangladesh,
the first ever rock benefit of its kind, Madison Square Garden,

(05:35):
all star Cast, Clapton, Dylan Ringo, Leon Russell and you.
They rehearse in New York, long days, cramp rooms, laughter
and nerves, And then the shows, two sold out crowds,
forty thousand people, the air electric, with history being made.
Back home, They're now more than Beatles proteges. They're carving

(05:57):
their own identity, releasing shrim perfect pop rock singles that
critics start calling the best in the business. Can you
imagine you're backstage at Madison Square Garden. The set lists
are taped amps, the crowds roar leads through the walls
like a living thing. Someone hands you a paper cup
of coffee, but you don't drink. You hear Dylan's harmonica

(06:20):
warming up in the next room. Someone calls your name.
You're on but beneath the surface, trouble is creeping in.
We'll return with Act four of the band that had
All the Breaks. Next Act four, Trouble in Paradise, Apple

(06:42):
Records starts to unravel, lawsuits, in fighting, money disappearing. Album's
delayed until the momentum is gone. They need a lifeline.
In nineteen seventy three, they signed with Warner brother Records,
and along with their new label comes a new manager,
a man Stan Polly. He talks big promises, protection promises, riches.

(07:05):
In reality, he's locking away their money and accounts they
can't touch. Warner smells Trouble, accuses him of fraud, and
retaliates by shoving the band's finished album. Meanwhile, a song
two members had written without You is covered by Harry Nielsen.
It becomes a global phenomenon, number one, not only number

(07:27):
one in the US, but number one everywhere. The royalties
could have saved them, Instead, the money evaporates. You're in
a hotel in the Midwest. The phone is on the nightstand,
The radio is on, and Nielsen's version of your song
without You plays you wrote it, Yeah, you wrote that song.
You can't turn it off. You know it's the number

(07:49):
one song in America, and you know, and you know
you can't even pay your own phone bill. Now comes
break number four, and this time this break his heartbreak.
We'll return next with Act five of the band that
had all the breaks. Next at five names, faces and shadows.

(08:16):
Pete Ham, the quiet architect of their sound, Tom Evans,
the voice that soared above his, Mike Gibbons the heartbeat,
and Joey Mullen, the guitar that cut through the name
of the band Bad Finger. That's right, Bad Finger. Act
six Tragedy. By April nineteen seventy five, Pete Ham is

(08:38):
just twenty seven years old, His daughter is just weeks old.
The band is broke, The band is broken, the bills
are stacked. On April twenty third, he meets Tom Evans
at a pub. They talk about the band, and about Polly,
and about the future. Pete is quieter than usual, and
Tom notices. In the early hours of April twenty fourth,

(09:01):
Pete walks into his garage, the smell of motor oil
and damp woods surrounds him. He writes a note, part
love letter, part indictment, apologizing to his girlfriend and his
baby girl, naming Stan Polly as a quote Solas Bastard.
He ties an electrical chord to a beam and steps off.

(09:25):
When the news reaches the band, it's like the air
is punched out of the room. You're sitting on your bed.
The phone rings, The voice on the other end is shaking.
You don't remember the first words, just a part where
they say Pete is gone. Acts seven, another tragedy. The

(09:47):
band stumbles forward. Tom tries to keep the flame alive,
but Pete's absence is a hole that just can't be filled.
In nineteen eighty three, another fight erupts over without you,
Tom still not seeing them. The wound is still raw.
On November nineteenth, he goes into his backyard. The trees
are bare, the air is cold, and Tom hangs himself.

(10:13):
Two voices silenced, both by their own hand. The Band
that had all the Breaks dies of a broken heart.
When we return the epilogue of the Band that had
All the Breaks the epilogue what remains the band is gone,

(10:37):
but the songs. They refuse to die. In twenty thirteen,
Baby Blue closes breaking Bad million Shazamin in real time.
Their albums, once cut out Bend Fodder, are now collector's items.
Straight Up is hailed as a power pop masterpiece. Musicians
from Cheap Trick to the Bengals to the Flaming Lips

(10:58):
cite them as an influence. Without You is a standard
recorded in almost every decade since it was written. Mariah
Carey took it to the top of the charts, and
the story spreads not just the tragedy, but of the brilliance,
the kind that just can't be erased. Because in the end,
Badfinger wasn't just a band that got chewed up by

(11:18):
the record industry. They were proof that sometimes the purest
art comes from people who never got the reward they deserved.
And maybe that's why the song still hit so hard,
because they weren't manufactured, they weren't chasing trends. They were
writing straight from the heart, through every high, every betrayal,

(11:39):
and every loss. But when you hear those harmonies, remember
you're not just hearing music. You're hearing survival. You're hearing friendship.
You're hearing what's left when the system fails. But the
art doesn't. They should have been huge and they deserve better.

(12:00):
Script one Dead Air and Bad Finger. Thank you for listening.
This has been a production of iHeartRadio.