The purported Quiet Beatle had a lot to say about life and times after The Beatles
Could it be half a century ago when this album landed on my turntable and did not leave for many weeks? Indeed it was, and it is now given the deluxe treatment, deserving of its high place in Harrison’s solo catalog.
An early release on his astutely named Dark Horse Records label, it followed the mammoth success of All Things Must Pass, arguably the best of The Beatles’ solo albums. The original tracks here have been remastered with only slightly more crispness and the vocals brought a bit more forward. The additional tracks reveal works in progress, and as always provide the most interest for the fan. These tracks are generally slower and understandably stripped down, presenting an unplugged version of the original album.
“Sue Me, Sue You Blues” recounts (and previews) the legal woes into which Harrison was dragged. He first touched on the topic in “Only a Northern Song” and would later revisit his courtroom perspective on “This Song.” But here, he is musing on the recent breakup among his four Liverpudlian mates.
Take 93 of “Who Can See It” is close to the finished version with which we are familiar, but one wonders what was going on in the prior 90 takes?
In each of the slower cuts Harrison’s voice sounds thinner and even warbly, but this should be taken more as a comment on how well he rose to the occasion on the master takes.
The title song is the big production number, and I still smile when Harrison reflects on how his prior band was assembled (“we got Richie on a tour”) before Ringo comes in with a drum break.
The alternate version of “Be Here Now” is delicate and elegiac, with the melody hanging by a thread. The style is very effective, as it makes the listener pay attention…as if the song may disappear weightlessly.
Harrison had assembled a crack band of musicians, many he already knew and most with whom he’d play for years: several Jims (Horn, Keltner, Gordon), Gary Wright, Ringo Starr, Klaus Vormann and Nicky Hopkins.
After the massive success of All Things Must Pass Harrison understandably returned to Phil Spector to produce, but that became unwieldy and Spector departed (or was pushed). Wright observed thereafter:
“The vibe in the studio was so peaceful: incense burning and subdued light while George played us the song we would be working on that day”
The results were more intimate than the massive wall of sound of its predecessor. Recording proceeded briskly, compared to the long process of his prior album and The Beatles Get Back sessions. The album Living in The Material World reached number one in the US and number two in the UK. The various versions of songs on the reissue are thoughtfully assembled, with remarkable photography, handwritten liner notes and thorough liner notes.
The album is certainly the best distillation of Harrison’s worldview. As he said:
“The things most people are struggling for are fame or fortune or wealth or position – always, that’s their main ambition and desire in life, to be rich or famous or to have a good reputation, and really none of that is important because in the end, death will take it all away. So you spend your life struggling for something which is in effect a waste of time.”
The last couple tracks did not find a home on the original album release. “Miss O’Dell” is an ode to a lady who worked for Apple (as well as for Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan and Carlos Santana). She was also the subject of Leon Russell’s “Pisces Apple Lady.” Harrison’s song was the B-side on the original “Give Me Life” single, and hence long hard to find. The song toggles between the seeming shallowness of life on the coast of Malibu and the dilemma underway in Bangladesh (on which Harrison would remain heavily focused), while wondering when the titular lady would visit. It is a charming ditty, but nowhere as remarkable as “Something,” which Harrison wrote for Pattie Boyd. (Boyd was also the catalyst for Clapton’s “Layla”).
While staying with Donovan in Ireland Harrison wrote “Sunshine Life For Me (Sail Away Raymond)” for a Ringo solo album. The jaunty melody belies the lyric’s focus, yet again on the legal system. Harrison donated all publishing proceeds to charity, for this song and the original album. The fiddle part harkens back to Harrison’s infatuation with The Band. (Indeed, both Ringo’s and Harrison’s versions have four Band members on it). Like his buddy Eric Clapton, Harrison wondered aloud more than once about joining The Band; bucolic life in Woodstock, NY seemed like a great place to quietly woodshed and concentrate on music, far from the material world.
Preview video here.
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