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(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, 1975)
