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(Warner Bros., 1989)George Harrison recorded “Cheer Down” for the Lethal Weapon 2 (!!) soundtrack, and with contributions from Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne, this sounds, not surprisingly, an awful lot like the Traveling Wilburys. The music continues along the lines of the dense, guitar-heavy pop-rock of Cloud Nine, and the whole thing’s catchy enough to overcome a stunningly inane set of lyrics (did it really take both Harrison and Petty to come up with lines like “If your dog should be dead / I’m gonna love you instead,” and “If your shares should crash / You’ll get by even without getting a rash”?!). “That’s What it Takes,” another strong Cloud Nine track, is the American B-side, while in Europe it’s the relatively rare and appealing “Poor Little Girl.” Based on what he’d recorded over the last two years, solo and with the Wilburys, George was definitely on a winning streak at this point; it’s too bad that, after this, he went into semi-retirement and didn’t release any new solo material for over a decade. Dagnabit!
(Dark Horse, 1988)With a hit record on his hands, George Harrison wisely continued to flog Cloud Nine, and the release of “This is Love” made the album his first – BELIEVE IT! – to generate three American singles. A mature slab o’ rockarolla that features some fine slide guitar, synth stabs in the chorus, and the quasi-artificial drum sound that dominates the LP, the song veers, altogether, a little too far into the slick and personality-free adult-contempo zone for my tastes. I would’ve much preferred the eternally ass-kicking chug-rocker “Fish on the Sand” as a single, though I reluctantly concede that the track’s central image of a fish flopping around, gasping for air on a beach, might not have been the most commercially viable of choices. Oh well; if that prick Mo Ostin had thought to call up my eight-year-old self for advice, mebbe things could’ve been different. Worse: After George spoiled us with two consecutive non-album B-sides, Cloud Nine’s lone stinker, the Chinese-influenced ballad “Breath Away From Heaven,” louses up this particular B. But! The reason WHY it is there is MIGHTY FUCKING EXCITING: Harrison had originally planned on sticking an off-the-cuff, pals-goofing-around collaborative effort, “Handle With Care,” on the flip, but the label, when presented with the track, wisely refused to relegate that song to B-side hell. Thus were 7” consumers punished with “Breath Away From Heaven,” and thus were the Traveling Wilburys officially born. Fair enough, I reckon!
And now you know… THE REMAINDER OF THE TALE.
(Dark Horse, 1988)The second single from Cloud Nine is a charming, wink-filled pastiche of the Beatles’ psychedelic years, stuffed with cellos and swooping backing vocals. Jeff Lynne really goes to town on this one, and, based on much of his work with the Electric Light Orchestra, it’s the song he was born to (over-) produce; he handles his duties well by providing the unsettling ambiance of the creepier Magical Mystery Tour tracks. Given the many stories of George’s outward hostility towards his Beatle days, it’s interesting to hear him write and sing about the period with such casual affection, tossing off one-liners and non-sequiturs among the heavier lyrical content. Also interesting is the fact that this song was recorded around the same time Paul McCartney was trying to plunder his own past for studio projects, with “Return to Pepperland” and the subsequent Beatle-isms of Flowers in the Dirt. Coincidence, or evidence of a mutual panic as both recognized creeping old-fogey status in the face of plummeting sales? Dunno, but if anything’s going to force an ex-Beatle to come to terms with his musical past, it might well be the looming specter of commercial oblivion.
Some additional notes: The B-side, “Zig Zag,” is a smoky, trumpet-laced nightclub jazzer whose lyrics don’t go beyond the title. It has since been added as a bonus track on the remastered Cloud Nine. Slightly more intriguing is the “Reverse End” version of “When We Was Fab” – found on the 12” and CD single – which tacks on a backwards, psychedelic coda that extends the song by another minute. For the true believer (me, unfortunately), there’s also a boxed edition of the 7” that includes a Pepper-esque cutout and a poster. Sigh.
(Dark Horse, 1987)After releasing two of the dullest, laziest LPs ever pooped out by an ex-Beatle (non-Ringo division), prospects seemed dim for a George Harrison comeback – particularly after the Gone Troppo debacle. And yet back he did indeed come, back ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP, with a tight, Jeff Lynne-assisted music-farm of smash-hit song-crops! “Got My Mind Set On You” was and is the biggie, as George rocks up and streamlines the arrangement of James Ray’s rather tedious original, a punchy beat and candy-sweet Lynne production (with those outer-space ELO backing vocals playing a prominent role) bringing out the song’s natural popchart potential. A hit, and deservedly so, despite (or because of) its mindless simplicity. In an album context, however, it does feel tacked-on as Cloud Nine’s final track, its relentless cheeriness not quite the best fit even on what is a generally upbeat Harrison disc. “Lay His Head,” one of the songs jettisoned from the original version of Somewhere in England seven years earlier, shows up on the B in remixed form. Actually better than most of the dreck on that LP, it’s a soft-pop trifle that suffices as a B-side; odd that this wasn’t included as a bonus track on any of the 2004 Harrison reissues.
(Dark Horse, 1981)I have mixed feelings about “All Those Years Ago.” On the one hand, it stinks. But on the other, it’s kind of a nice counterpoint to the other Lennon tributes out there, which were typically maudlin (Paul McCartney), overblown (Elton John), or pointless (Roxy Music). Harrison at least had the decency to make his track bouncy and fondly sentimental – a welcome relief! – even if it, like the rest of the Somewhere in England album (including the torpid B-side to the single, “Writing’s On the Wall”), does feature far too many ugly keyboard sounds. I’ll give George an unenthusiastic tip of the cap for this one. Oh, and don’t get excited about the “Beatles reunited!” hype that surrounds the song; Ringo drums on it, yes, but Paul’s contribution is just a non-distinctive backing vocal that adds little and is hardly identifiable as McCartney.
(Dark Horse, 1979)In Europe, cheapskates who sprung for the “Blow Away” single instead of the entire George Harrison album got stuck with LP track “Soft Touch” as the B-side (as opposed to “Soft-Hearted Hana in the U.S.), and the song is nuttin more than a painfully-lazy, polyester-clad, resort-party bore. George has all the edge of a volleyball on this one, and the only thing worth praising it for is that it doesn’t manage to reach the hellish depths of his later island-inspired work on Gone Troppo. So hoorah for half-assed, maxo-relaxo mediocrity… shit manages to look pretty sweet relative to the musical horrors Harrison would soon be dropping on the marketplace.
Hey! While you’re here: Geeky and humble thanks to Adrian at Delusions of Adequacy for offering some kind words about this site. Scholar-and-a-gentleman style, he’s not only a top-notch fellow, he also happens to have good taste AND bang out reams of interesting music-crit. So go read him today! Especially that bit where he praises my Sisyphean (wasted!) efforts – read that part over and over and over and over again. And then once more.
(Dark Horse, 1979)While a big improvement on the terrible Thirty-Three and 1/3, George Harrison’s self-titled LP is overly polished, gentle, and, well, adult. Everything is mid-tempo mush, and there’s a sleek, soft-rock sheen that doesn’t do Harrison any favors, especially as it deemphasizes his electric guitar for much of the album. The good news? He’s ditched the saxes this time around, and he’s actually managed to crank out a few decent songs in between his rich-guy trips to Hawaii and the Formula One racetrack. A-side “Blow Away” is among the best of the bunch (running neck and neck with “Faster”), with a boppy little melody and an almost idiotically cheerful chorus that sees George as carefree and positive as on any other single in his discography. Even Paul McCartney, the master of brain-pleasing songfluff, would have been proud to release such a perfectly-formed, lightweight treat (“Blow Away” would in fact fit quite well on Wings at the Speed of Sound, although it would easily tower above the rest of the material on there). And wait! Is that a xylophone I hear plinking deep within the mix? I THINK IT IS!! A xylophone on a George Harrison track?! How whimsical and unlikely; you’ve really loosened up in your permed middle-age, George! A minor single and a minor hit, but a very pleasing one nonetheless.“Soft-Hearted Hana,” which is also taken from the LP, is a shuffling, pub-ready rooty-toot loosely based on earlier B-side “Deep Blue,” but rather than the grim subject matter of old, George has gone with zany mushroom-inspired lyrics for this effort. As throwaways go, it’s acceptable, though the B-side of this 7” was probably a more appropriate home for it than on the album proper.
(Dark Horse, 1976)Well, the weather’s gloomy and so am I. Spent yesterday inside listening to a few hours of the “Best Show” archives, and then sat in my office until about 11pm tonight half-heartedly following baseball action before trudging out into the rain. Depressing. Consider these my Torpor Memos (haw haw). Anyway, what I’m doing a terrible job of hinting at is the fact that this is NOT a time during which I’m likely to feel charitable towards the Thirty-Three and 1/3 album, which is a collection of peppy, bland soft-rock dressed up in grotesque synths and saxes. “This Song,” the record’s minor hit and Harrison’s commentary on the “My Sweet Lord” plagiarism lawsuit, isn’t nearly as clever as it (or its video) seems to think it is, with Eric Idle’s embarrassing vocal cameo (delivered in Python-esque lady-squawk) simply underscoring that this is a novelty single with a puzzlingly high opinion of its own wit. And, while catchy enough – especially when compared to its dire, sleep-inducing, mid-tempo, smooth-n-sensitive-’70s-man B-side “Learning How to Love You” – “This Song” marks a nadir in George’s frustrating love of prominent saxophone tootery, subjecting the listener to gales of gaudy blowin’ atop the boogie piano. Ugh. Heck, even the sleeve is hideous. Skip the single, skip the album. Not the best start for Harrison on his new label.
(Apple, 1975)For over a decade, I had walked these dusky streets happily a-whistling my way towards the grave, all the while under the impression that the only thing I cared for on Extra Texture was goof-off closing track “His Name is Legs (Ladies and Gentlemen).” So imagine the total jaw-drop pants-wet eye-poppery this week when I, older and mellower, played the album and found myself LOVING ALMOST ALL OF IT. Stuff’s solid! Occasionally SUPER-DUPER, even! And “You,” the single, is absolutely ducky in its explosive wall-of-sound gallop, with lush sonics perhaps present because the backing track was salvaged from a scotched 1971 Ronnie Spector session. But no matter, it’s an excellent Harrison song regardless of its origins, and that heavenly, organ-heavy middle section is about as great a moment as he ever managed on disc – overall, it’s a brighter, poppier tweaking of the All Things Must Pass template, and that’s a template-tweak to make any non-nut sit up and mull applause. The barrelhouse-meets-soul ballad B-side, “World of Stone,” features piano that’s alternately tinkled and pounded, and that, along with burbling organ and brief snatches of an anthemic chorus vocal, results in a vaguely McCartney-esque track that underlines how much more musical effort Harrison is expending this time around. Again: Good stuff. Both songs appear on the LP in identical form, and the near-uniformly strong material around them (“The Answer’s at the End,” “This Guitar,” “Can’t Stop Thinking About You”) makes Extra Texture, despite the puzzlingly lukewarm critical consensus, a George-train well worth riding.Also, that rotted apple core that takes the place of the famously appetizing Granny Smith logo on the vinyl’s label is a pretty nifty joke on Harrison’s part, what with Apple degenerating into decades of lawsuit-hell at the time and all. Wotta cut-up, that guy!
(Apple, 1975)
As you’d better damn well remember, I mentioned in my previous review that Harrison’s label flip-flopped the release of the two American Dark Horse singles for the overseas markets, and also crossed up their B-sides. So now we have before us, straight outta Ol’ Blighty, the titular track backed by sax-shellacked alb loser “Hari’s On Tour (Express),” conveniently issued as a 7” well after the LP had semi-stiffed. The picture sleeve is nearly identical to the one that came out in the States, and the labels are custom-printed with images of George’s eyes on one side, and future wife Olivia’s on the other… a harmless little poke at John and Yoko?
(Apple, 1974)In Europe, Apple released “Ding Dong, Ding Dong” as the first single from Dark Horse rather than, as was the case in America, the title track. This calculated switcheroo sadly resulted in no big excitement on the charts, and no big excitement in terms of the actual records pressed – just that the B-sides were swapped and “Ding Dong” thus got saddled here with the worthless “I Don’t Care Anymore.” So who cares, right? RIGHT! Unless, of course, you happen to have a bizarre compulsion that drives you to spend large chunks of your paycheck on unique international ex-Beatle picture sleeves… LIKE I DO! As such, this Belgian edition is a bit of a doozy, its festive, psychedelic-hangover layout a colorful improvement over its staid American counterpart. Yes ma’am, it’s always a groovy New Year when this one’s a-spinnin’!
(Apple, 1974)“Ding Dong, Ding Dong,” George’s stab at a holiday single, is a winner, a sonically-exciting track that runs laps around the rest of the limp Dark Horse LP. The saxes, clanging bells, and backing vocals bring a lushness that gives the song the feel of his earliest solo work, but the sing-songy lyrics add a breezy fun that that material tended to lack. Easily as strong as Lennon’s “Happy Xmas,” and far better than McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime,” this one has mysteriously slipped through the cracks when it comes to seasonal radio play; it’d be nice to see/hear it resurrected in coming years, as it deserves better than to be forgotten. The instrumental “Hari’s On Tour (Express),” on the other hand, might have made sense from a promotional standpoint when the single came out (as Harrison was, in fact, on tour at the time), but its boring, sleek sax ’n’ roll bullshit sounds uncomfortably like the sort of faceless blat the Saturday Night Live house band might churn out, and is hardly a credit to George’s solo career. Bury it deep.
(Apple, 1974)Yes, we’ve all heard the “Dark Hoarse” joke that’s been made for over 30 years about George’s shredded vocal chords during these sessions. Ho ho ho. The real problem with the Dark Horse album, though, is not Harrison’s voice, it’s the fact that he was writing lousy songs with dull arrangements and lazy lyrics. Aside from the two singles and maybe the sarcastic cover of “Bye Bye Love,” it represents an alarming drop-off from the first two LPs. I remain convinced that the guy’s songs work best when shaped and ultra-produced by big-shots, whether George Martin, Phil Spector, or Jeff Lynne; this self-produced mess sounds thin and unexciting, with generally poor quality control in the songwriting department. At least the title track, released as the album’s first single in America, is an effective, groovy blend of flutes (!!), electric piano, and acoustic guitar. A unique and catchy record that is startling for – but not derailed by – Harrison’s gravelly croak. The B-side, “I Don’t Care Anymore,” can reasonably be read as an accurate indication of where George’s head was at this point, as he phones in a sproingy acoustic throwaway (opening line: “OK, here we go, fellas, got a B-side to make!”) that pretty much insults the consumer rather than adding any value to the disc. Probably not too surprising that this B has never made it onto a CD.
(Apple, 1974)
There isn’t too much information out there about this particular edition, but it seems that in 1974 Apple decided to reissue “My Sweet Lord” in the UK (backed by its original British B-side, “What is Life”), adding an attractive picture sleeve that swipes the All Things Must Pass cover shot. Those clever limeys recognized that the hot-rocking “What is Life” is certainly a better candidate for radio play than lengthy American B-side “Isn’t it a Pity,” so the British release is, on paper at least, a stronger commercial proposition. The original issue was indeed a #1 in the UK, but it doesn’t look like Apple manged to get any chart action this time around. Oh well; 35 years later, the bigger concern for collector jerks everywhere is digging up a copy of that exciting – and tough to find – sleeve. I got mine… Tasty!
(Apple, 1973)I’m in a truly SWELL mood tonight, so I’m tempted to let this single off easy… but I just CAN’T, O reader, CAN’T, because that would be cheating YOU of the precious thing I deal in most: TRUTH!! Yep, I’m afraid that George’s lead single from Living in the Material World is a semi-bore that stands as an ominous neon finger-point towards the soft-rock mediocrity that is the bulk of his next decade’s work. But: Taken on its own terms, “Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth)” is a fairly beautiful song with a top-notch melody and some fine piano and guitar interplay; however, it’s ultimately laid back in a way that’s far more “California” than “George Harrison,” which is a bit unsettling in an atmospheric sense… when and WHY did we trade Spectorian overkill for a sleepy hammock next to Don Henley? Yech! On the other side, “Miss O’Dell” is a lazy, rootin’-tootin’, laugh-filled toss-off that doesn’t need to be heard more than once or twice, yet it justifies its existence here by acting as an effective counterweight to the spiritual super-solemnity of the A.
(Apple 1971)George Harrison, sitting all a-bearded atop the commercial heap, was feeling his oats around this time, so he decided to flex his celebrity muscle for a good cause and rush out a benefit single in aid of the refugees from Bangla Desh. This was apparently quite a politically-minded period for ex-Beatles: within the next few months, John Lennon would release “Woman is the Nigger of the World,” Paul McCartney would release “Give Ireland Back to the Irish,” and Ringo Starr would release… well, he’d release “Back Off Boogaloo.” Which is a terrific song! Anyway. Phil Spector and an army of hotshots (Ringo Starr, Leon Russell, Billy Preston, Jim Keltner, others) once again apply the massive All Things Must Pass sound, which manifests itself here as a tasteful funkiness – much like a slower “Wah-Wah” – that rides some punchy dual-drumming while guitars, sax, and piano trade off brief solos. The live version from The Concert For Bangla Desh speeds things up considerably and makes for an interesting companion piece as it emphasizes “rock” over the intensity/urgency of the message-heavy studio recording. “Deep Blue” has the general feel of “For You Blue,” but with downer lyrics that are easily missed thanks to the song’s easy-going acoustic shuffle. As a non-album single, both tracks on “Bangla Desh” are semi-obscurities; the sadly neglected A-side has since only shown up on the Best of George Harrison compilation/travesty, while the B finally got released on CD as a bonus track on the recent reissue of Living in the Material World.
(Apple, 1971)Odd as it seems, Apple only pulled two American singles from the monster All Things Must Pass, with “What Is Life” dribbling out about three months after the album’s release. Once again we get LP tracks on both sides, so there probably wasn’t much incentive for shoppers to pick this one up, given that the album had already sold a zillion copies by this point. Regardless, it’s a great choice for a single, as the rip-rarin’ and horn-blarin’ pop-rock of the A-side (one of my favorite George Harrison songs, and a perfect example of just how DENSE the production was on these sessions) features what’s probably solo Harrison’s best guitar riff over pounding, ultra-reverbed drums. “Apple Scruffs” on the B – with just voice, guitar, harmonica, and some percussive tapping – sounds like something that would have fit well on Let It Be, or perhaps, minus the backing vocals, as an especially lighthearted throwaway on a late-’60s Dylan record.
(Apple, 1970)It’s been a beautiful spring Sunday in New York City, so I suppose there’s no better time to hunker down inside and start reviewing George Harrison’s singles discography. Humph. Well: His first solo release, “My Sweet Lord,” had old Beardo kicking worldwide chart-ass right out of the gate, and while yes, sure, he did rip off “He’s So Fine,” let he among us who has not pinched a Chiffons’ song throw the first stone (I, for example, was recently surprised and saddened to learn that I’d unconsciously incorporated the melody of “One Fine Day” into my eight-minute charity single honoring the lives and sound legal reasoning of American greats Jay Bybee and Steven Bradbury). Working with the ever over-the-top Phil Spector (friend to the ladies of this world), George’s records never sounded better than they did in these early days: his guitar playing is in top form, and the massed superstar instrumentalists backing him give these songs a fullness that I’ve never heard matched elsewhere. Seriously, this stuff sounds FANTASTIC, topping even production-colossuses like Abbey Road. It also helps that the songwriting, while a little heavy, is excellent, as Harrison uses relatively simple, repetitive lyrics to great effect on the prayer/mantra that is “My Sweet Lord,” and on the extended McCartney-esque bummer “Isn’t It a Pity.” Throw in a snazzy picture sleeve, and you’ve got yourself a double A-sided winner (yep, with two unsliced apples on the labels!). But why buy the single when the full All Things Must Pass LP, from which both songs are taken, is just as solid? Solo Beatle records rarely got much better than this material.
(Warner Bros., 1989)
