'Unknown Delight - The Alan's Album Archives Guide To The Music Of George Harrison' is available to buy now by clicking here!
I hate labels as much as anyone, dear readers. I've spent my
life growing up being known as 'the music obsessed one', usually with the word
'weird' or variations added alongside, as if it's the only reason I was created
by whatever maker decided to throw darts randomly at a dartboard and create me
that way, seen as the only part of who I am rather than the major part of who I
am. And you don't get time to hang a sign on me. I mean, there's so much more
to life than music - writing about it is quite important too. Laughing about
music, that's a must. Talking about music is quite vital to my life too. Did I
mention dreaming about it too? Alright, I'll come clean with you - sometimes
labels serve their purpose as long as you don't get too carried away with them.
Music may be a major part of who I am and may be my major means of
communicating to everybody else on planet Earth, but it's not quite all of who
I am and people change, with priorities that come and go. Well, sort of. Maybe.
You see, it's a sort of Schrödinger's Cat in disc form and one of those
chicken-and-egg questions for me: in contrast to what most people think I would
happily give away half my CD collection to make room for the right person in my
life - but equally, I'll only know I've found the right person when I find
they've already been obsessing over the half of my CD collection I've just given
away before we even met.
Of all the labels that ever existed the portrayal of George as
'The Quiet Beatle' is one of the most controversial. In many ways it's
obviously true: for the public George was the quiet Beatle as Harrison - in the
usual comparison - wasn't as sarcastic as John, as bursting with creative
energy as Paul or as needing of love as Ringo and his Charlie Chaplin-style
puns. George was the Beatle the media took longest to 'get' because he said
less than the other three and he didn't have a character that was easy to
pigeon-hole. George, too, often felt like the outsider in The Beatles being
that bit younger than the others and felt that even more so when he began to
discover more about Eastern music and religion before most Beatlefans (and Beatles)
knew a sitar from a guitar. Compared to John and Paul, though, surely anyone
would have appeared quiet (even Gerry Marsden, one of life's natural talkers,
struggles to get words in edgeways during early competitive meetings between
The Beatles and Gerry and The Pacemakers) and on early Beatle speeches (BBC
sessions, concert chatter, Christmas flexi fanclub records and interviews) it's
nearly always Ringo who doesn't say anything or has to be pushed into it. The
truth is that George wasn't loud - he was more of a listener than a talker,
more of a thinker than a doer and was more likely to be away working stuff out
on his own than demanding the world follow his ideas or else (as per Lennon),
leading by example (as per Paul) or never quite knowing how to shrug the
cameras off (as per Ringo). The label has stuck because never once in the
Harrison songbook is there a song as 'me me me' as 'The Ballad Of John and
Yoko' or 'A Day In The Life' ('I Me Mine' indeed being a parody of such Beatle
songs) and George is almost always the first Beatle to leave - whether it be
the room the pressmen are waiting in, the idea of touring or the idea of being
a Beatle in the first place.
But not being loud is not the same as being 'quiet'. Sadly until
they're out officially most fans won't get a chance to hear them again but the
shock of listening to the Beatles' radio shows complete is how funny George is.
While John's humour rises and falls depending on his mood, Paul can be relied
upon to be professionally cheeky and Ringo audibly rolls his eyes whenever he's
called to get up off his drum-stool to say a few words every week, George's
gags are the silliest, the daftest, the funniest and the most natural. Whether
it's painting Buckingham Palace 'green with black stripes', his mum 'listening
to Pop Go The Beatles while she's out digging the garden' or the list of Beatle
nicknames for their teachers, George's wit is the cleverest and often the best.
Equally most Beatle biographies assume that as the early chief songwriters Lennon
and McCartney were the 'important' Beatles but that's only in many ways because
they 'said' they were. Much of the key early Beatle sound is George's, whether
it be the awesome opening ringing chord to 'A Hard Day's Night', the
reinvention of the band as hip groovy beatniks on riff=-heavy songs like 'Day
Tripper' and 'Paperback Writer' or something as simple as the cute 'thinking
dance' when George loses his concentration during his guitar solos on early
Beatle TV appearances. In the studio too I sense that George wasn't a seeping
silent partner but the lynchpin who helped the magic happen. There's only one
Beatle song recorded without George (there are several without John, a couple
without Ringo - only Paul turned up to everything bar 'Revolution #9') and it's
a mess, The Beatles struggling through twenty-odd takes of 'She's A Woman'
(while George stays in a hotel room suffering from a cold) before they
reluctantly allow the sloppiest, messiest Beatle recording up until 'Helter
Skelter' through quality control.
Knowing that George hated the tag 'The Quiet Beatle' there was a
push from fans to call him the 'musical Beatle' in order to make him feel
better. But George hated that idea too, saying that they were all musical
Beatles - he just happened to the Beatle who rehearsed the most and spent the
most time with his guitar! No, George was the humblest Beatle, the least
concerned with ego out of one of the most ego-driven bands ever (The Stones
have nothing on The Beatles in that respect!) - but without his ideas, given so
loudly that in other bands I'd have been the go-to 'leader', The Beatles
wouldn't have worked half as well. If the other fab three had stopped talking
long enough, they'd have seen just how many ideas were whizzing through his
brain. Don't get me wrong: I love the Lennon and McCartney solo songbooks too.
John's honesty, contrasted with his sweet songs pursuing or trying to recover
Yoko in the 1970s make his six 'finished' albums a joy to behold (with one or
two soggy moments and a rock and roll covers album that 'doesn't count) while
given the space to be more than just John's sparring partner Paul grows into a
one-man band who can do anything he chooses, with a wider musical arc than any
other writer out there. Even Ringo's solo catalogue is pretty good, usually
when his Beatle mates are helping out.
But George's growth is the most remarkable and it starts early.
While 'Don't Bother Me' is impressive for a twenty-one-year old novice and
'You'll Know What To Do 'I Need You' 'You Like Me Too Much' and 'If I Needed
Someone' are all under-rated love songs for first wife Patti, it's from 1965
that George finds the 'dual style' that will last in his work to the very end.
On the one hand George is deliciously grumpy, sour in a way that the other sweeter
Beatles were never allowed to be (with a freedom John only discovers once he
meets Yoko and starts taking his clothes off). What other twenty-three-year-old
near-millionaire is so wrapped up in the minutiae of his finances that he could
write a song like 'Taxman'? Or be discussing ego-betrayal on songs like 'I Want
To Tell You' and 'Think For Yourself'? And yet simultaneously be writing the
purest, sweetest songs of love and joy like 'Something' or 'Here Comes The
Sun'?
And then there's one of the biggest and most unlikely changes
The Beatles ever brought, masterminded in an 'I've just discovered a new
obsession and thought you might like it too?' George kind of a way. Who would
have guessed, after hearing 'Love Me Do' or watching the first Ed Sullivan Show
appearance or even listening to the 'Beatles bigger than Jesus' debates of 1964
that by 1967 The Beatles would have made Eastern religions a thing in Western
society? George may not have tugged on The Beatles' collective apron strings
very often but when he did it was in a big way, such as getting the others
interested in meditation and the Maharishi. George's interest in the sitar may
have come after The Byrds', thanks to their enthusiasm on the one hand and the
Indian instruments featured on the set of 'Help!' on the other, but his
performance of the instrument on Beatles song 'Norwegian Wood' was a 'first'
for the pop world. Even more extraordinary than that is that George didn't
restrict this to a one-off novelty but sought out the 'right' players and got
them to play his second 'Indian' song 'Love You Too', an even more exotic and
other-worldly collection of sounds, with multiple sequels including '. Again,
George had a lot to say for the Beatle fans who wanted to hear it. Would, in
truth, any band member used to not being listened to have ever felt the need to
record a song as defensive as 'Not Guilty'?!
The single biggest change in Beatle styles though came with the
lyrics of George's songs of the second half of the band's career, which is the
root of George's solo work too. Up until George's songs in 1966 the Beatle
sound can largely be summed up with the thought that 'being young is fun' and
that 'life doesn't have to be black-and-white'. You see it in the endless
enthusiasm of the 'Hard Day's Night' film, dance to it on the Merseybeat songs
played in discotheques throughout the world and hear it on your very own
stereo. But slowly George's songs say a great deal more than many
music-reviewers or fans quite realise with some of the deepest lyrics in The
Beatles' canon. Was there ever a more spiritually guided lyric than 'The Inner
Light', where knowledge is travel that broadens the mind? A more intellectual
lyric than 'I Want To Tell You' filled with thoughts of ego-expression and the
spaces between human beings? Was there ever a more damning portrayal of greed
than 'Piggies'? A sadder song about missed opportunities than 'While My Guitar
Gently Weeps'? Or a more spiritual song about the afterlife than 'Long Long
Long' as George reaches out to God and allows his soul to be reunited with his
cosmic consciousness? All of these songs have plenty to say and show that far
from keeping quiet George had way too much than any position in one band could
afford him.
The key song, though, might well be 'Within You Without You'
which displays perhaps more than any other Beatle lyric what George was
thinking. There's a good tale here, told by F1 legend Damon Hill, whose father
Graham had been a close friend of Harrison and who revealed after George's
death that the Beatle had funded his early motorbike career at a time when the
Hills had no money and were stuck in legal limbo following Graham's death in a
light aircraft crash. Damon, enthusiastic about his first trip in an F1 car,
phoned George to say how much he loved the power and much he longed to go into
space on a rocket to see how that felt like. 'No son' George replied down the
phone, 'the answer's in inner space, not outer space'. That's pretty much this
song lyric: that mankind has the answers to all his questions if he could only
'know' and reach inside himself to put them right. In this song's discussion of
ego George says that being hung up on such a thing is pointless, that life will
go within him and without him oblivious to what he does. Far from being a
sighing song of 'what's the point?' the way so other writers would have made it
though, this 'lecture' about free will is designed to uplift us, to make us
clear that we have the answers to our problems, not our gurus, mystics, heroes
or even our Beatles. Maybe that was why George was being 'quiet', so his vision
wasn't drowned out by extraneous noise? And yet, in a lifelong contradiction,
the next major Beatles event after this for George was taking the band to visit
The Maharishi. I find it fascinating too that despite being the one most
longing to leave The Beatles behind it's George whose the Beatle who most
recognises and praises their fans' dedication in music, not John or Paul, in
the delightful [32] 'Apple Scruffs', a song delivered with all the love and
affection of George's songs for wives Patti and Olivia.
Once George leaves The Beatles he's gathered up a huge backlog
of material with which to communicate to the world with about the new insights
he's gained from his shared interest in Hindu and Hare Krishna religions
(George piecing together his own belief cut-and-paste-style from the passages
that rang true to him). The biggest single thing a band as youthful and full of
life as The Beatles could never do comfortably about aging and death, but
George was the one who hints at this possibility (as early as 'I Want To Tell
You' with its fast-moving years and most magnificently on 'Long Long Long'). He
dives into the idea head-first on 'All Things Must Pass', easily the best known
of his non-Beatle works. This is for several reasons: it may be George's most
melodic work, it's easily his most thorough and it's a collection of the most
typically George-like lyrics that no other writer could have offered, a
discussion of how much nicer the world would be if we all 'behaved' ('Everyone
has choice when to and not to raise their voices' 'Run Of The Mill'), avoided
distractions from ego and paranoia and 'maya' ('Earthly illusion') (on 'Beware
Of Darkness'), understood that we are all loved ('No one will say they love you
today and throw it all away tomorrow', 'Run Of The Mill' again) and that we all
have the power to help each other if only we actually tried ('Isn't It A
Pity?') It remains the greatest lecture given by 'The Quiet Beatle' as he most
feels the courage of his convictions and - thanks partly to the success of [23]
'My Sweet Lord' - George has an audience to listen to it. But I think there's
another 'clue' why this album did so well in a post-Beatles world. George hated
Phil Spector's typically epic production, imagining a humble little album full
of little songs about small realisations and man's tiny position in the place
of the bigger picture. Many of George's later albums will be exactly this
humble, especially the happy 'family' albums like 'George Harrison' from 1979
that are more from the 'heart' and less from the 'head'. But Phil Spector's
production combined with George's vulnerable voice is the perfect sound of what
George was really all about: The Quiet Beatle trying to make himself heard over
a noisy world that wouldn't stop talking. Every earthly distraction, every
booming flashy guitar solo, every cavernous drum sound, every extraneous guest
star makes you struggle to hear the words and concentrate on what is 'really'
being said, above the distracting noise. Only on the closer ('Apple Jam' aside)
'Hear Me Lord' does The Quiet Beatle start singing in full force, desperate to
be heard - but notably it's not by 'us' his fanbase, but by his 'God'.
Again there's a contradiction though. The whole moral of 'All
Things Must Pass' is, much like 'Within You Without You', that we only have
responsibility to ourselves. Far from being hands-on Gods itching to interfere
in human society, in George's worlds his Gods watch on the human race like
humans do their pets, allowing them free will and access and hoping they can
'heal' themselves where they can without the need for intervention from a
cosmic 'vet'. Every Harrison character, especially on 'All Things Must Pass',
has the power of control, over re-acting to a situation and making it worse
('Run Of The Mill'), over absorbing life's lessons instead of ignoring them
('Let It Roll'), reaching into their hearts to find a pathway to God ('My Sweet
Lord') or a pathway away from hiding your true inner self ('Behind That Locked
Door'). In George's world the greatest art to living is dying, preparing and
cleansing the soul to the point where we're left with as few mortal hang-ups as
possible, no guilt shame or missed opportunities so that when we its time to
re-join the overall consciousness away from our Earthly bodies we have all
learned our Earthly lessons well. We cannot be taught this, although we are
being taught how to do this every day, via a succession of teachers of whom
George is only one (and a 'quiet' one at that, certainly compared to the noisy
teachers I had at school). However, what's George's next move after telling us
that the only person who can 'save' us is ourselves? He asks us to help out
with a fundraiser for the people of Bangladesh, organising a string of benefit
concerts to raise money for other human beings. However that might not be the
contradiction it seems because in George's world that's the 'right' thing to
do; that the people who already have offer to help those who don't whether it
be in terms of the 'material' or 'spiritual' world, it's all the same to
George.
The next few solo albums are quieter in production terms but
louder and less humble in others. There's a reason so many fans don't like
'Living In The Material World' even though it may well be the most melodic of
George's solo recordings and despite the fact that it features in [47] 'Give Me
Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)' the sweetest, most Beatley single in Harrisondom
(the special case of pastiches [101] 'All Those Years Ago' and [132] 'When We
Was Fab' aside). It sounds like we're being lectured. I love George when he's
being a student of life alongside us, learning little nuggets here to pass on
to us - I like him less when he's decided his way is the only way and we're all
doomed to an afterlife of misery and hell if we disagree with him, oblivious of
our actions on Earth. Songs like [53] 'The Lord Loves The One Who Loves The
Lord' come from a far darker, angrier place in George's nature where we don't
have the answers - only God does. This is the point at which 'The Quiet Beatle'
starts being loud, like one of those Bible-bashers you try so hard to avoid in
the market square or the Radna Krishna flower-givers who assume that a busy
time-sensitive airport is the best place for you to give up all your time to
save your soul. George is no longer learning at the speed of the rest of us but
so far ahead of us that it's hard for him to remember how to talk to 'us' so he
talks 'down' instead, haranguing us for not being like 'him' after so many
years of patience. Of all the passages in Beatle books this is the only period
when you want to give George a slap (John, Paul and - oddly - especially Ringo
are up for a few, as would be most human beings if 'scanned with a microscopic
glass' to be fair!), especially in Patti's book where George sings about saving
the world with life but shows only his darker side to the world, while
alternating between 'dipping his hand in the prayer beads and the drug box'.
This is the only time when the Quiet Beatle is a bully, refusing to be patient
with those who can't keep with pace with him or listen to what anyone else has
to say and it reveals just why George was seen as 'The Quiet Beatle' for so
much of the time: because he was otherwise always so good at listening, open to
ideas from all walks of life and not obsessed with the sound of his own voice.
There are of course mitigating circumstances. The failure of his
first marriage wasn't all on George's side and Patti's liaisons with Eric
Clapton, painted as 'inevitable' in so many Beatle books, really wasn't (even
if George was first, with a long-standing affair taken out with Ringo's first
wife Maureen which George admitted to jokingly as 'incest'). The failure of The
Beatles was a bigger worry, with endless court cases, followed by another that
in the public eye at least stripped George of the 'moral' joy of his biggest
selling solo single [23] 'My Sweet Lord' (I still say, as I did in the 'All
Things' review, that George did rip this song off, but from The Edwin Hawkins
Singers' 'Oh Happy Day', not The Chiffons' 'He's So Fine'). EMI/Apple and Allen
Klien too were giving him needless headaches as after all that hard work on
'Bangladesh' the precious funds got diverted for years after the label insisted
on grabbing a 'tax' percentage'. It seemed that all the good George had tried
to do was for nothing - and as so much of George's religious beliefs depended
on the idea of 'karma', of what you sow coming back to haunt you or hail you
when you 'reap' it, I do wonder in retrospect if George was 'crosser' at his
religion than he let on. And, despite his moniker as 'The Quiet Beatle' George
got loud when he was upset, unable to hide from his feelings. George was after
all left without an audience and left struggling despite trying to pass on the
'good word', an event further exacerbated when he went down with a nasty cold
just as he launched into his 'Dark Horse' tour of 1974, dates on which his
voice was so hoarse more often than not he became the guitarist in the band as
Billy Preston filled in for him. Even for 'The Quiet Beatle', that was
ridiculous - George hated being silenced, by fate, by other Beatles and by the
concerns of the 'material world'. A guilty fourth record 'Extra Texture'
follows, begging for forgiveness from deity and public alike, recorded in more
characteristically humble voice as George learns to take his own advice again.
The next few albums find George shrugging his shoulders and
leaving his fans more or less to fend for themselves. Only now, circa 1979,
does The Quiet Beatle truly become quiet, finding solace in the arms of his
second family and writing his songs in a far more inclusive way than before.
Whilst the later Harrison albums are every bit as spiritual and religious as
before, they're more ambiguous works that could work just as well being sung
about girlfriends as Gods and significant others as much as spirits. George
finally learns to follow his own advice and allow people to find their own
answers after all without telling them what to do, whilst giving them a little
bit of a nudge at the same time. It's a combination that's at its most powerful
on songs like [100] 'Life Itself' (where life revolves around a loved one, of
any sort), the karmic [88] 'Love Comes To Everyone', the beautiful [95] 'Your
Love Is Forever' (written for God and Olivia at once, the comparison being one
way of making your wife feel good about herself), the natural beauty of nature
on [90] 'Here Comes The Moon' and the gloriously noisy [112] 'Wake Up My Love'
(where, in a twist on the 'Quiet' theme, George feels ignored, whether by lover
or deity, and demands attention the way a toddler wants their mother). Only
posthumously on [155] 'Brainwashed' does George return to the lecturing of his
old days and it's a glorious older and wiser finale, as George shows us basically
that life talks to us too much, distracting us from what we should be hearing
and that, for him, religion is the music he can hear in his heart, longing for
other people to find that out for themselves but no longer bashing us over the
head with it. A final track combining all sides of George's nature in one
(humour, seriousness, darkness, lightness, joy and hope, suffering), it's the
only way his catalogue could have 'properly' ended, the 'Quiet Beatle' once
more finding so much to say and saying it in every medium he can think of,
because from another quoted lyric from another album track ([144]) 'if you
don't know where you're going any road will take you there!'
There are perhaps two other great ways to say goodbye on the
patchy 'Brainwashed' album, both interestingly involving being quiet. On [146]
'Pisces Fish' George at last learns to celebrate his 'contradictions', using
astrology to show how his whole life has been spent 'going where the other
half's just been', finding the 'answers' as a mute observer of life not an
active participant. And then there's [150] 'Stuck Inside A Cloud' where George
at last learns all the life-lessons he could ever want to know and senses that
he's the only person listening to them properly, but the 'Gods' he believes in have
prevented him from speaking, feeling lost and helpless as he struggles to come
to terms with the fact that he can't help them - that they can only help
themselves by finding 0ut the 'answers' at the 'end'. It's a fitting way for
the 'Quiet Beatle' to (nearly) end his career, George silent not because he has
nothing to say but because he has so much to say but can't express it. After a
lifetime of trying to find a way to talk to us through humour, sarcasm, peace,
hatred (was there ever an angrier song than [48] 'Sue Me Sue You Blues' or [52]
'Living In The Material World'?), the brilliance of nature, the noise of F1
racing cars, the wonder of permanence and the inevitability of impermanence,
the longing to talk and the desperate need to listen, George finally finds the
best 'fit' for his music. He can see how wonderful the world can be and the
brilliance of the next but his hands are tied - all he can do is tell us that
it is there, cross his fingers and hope we'll follow him. That's a message that
rings out loud and true across every song George touched, sometimes in garbled
form, sometimes clearer and it makes George not 'The Quiet Beatle' but the
musician who perhaps had the most to say of anyone out there, if only the world
could pay the time to listen to what he had to say. For rather than being
shouted through a megaphone, delivered through a string of catchy commercial
hit singles (again it speaks volumes about George's contradictory nature that
his catchiest production and melody on [98] 'Blood From A Clone' comes with
damning lyrics about how stupid and empty the commercial world is) or shouted
from the pulpit the best of George's music comes from the quieter music, the
songs where you have to go away and listen, study the lyric sheet and come to your
own conclusions. Even at his quietest, George was surely the loudest Beatle
with the most to say - and he taught us oh so much.
Going back to where we began, with our take on 'labels', I've
also been struck by how much difficulty other biographies of George (and there
are a few now) have coming to terms with his contradictory nature (more on this
on our 'bookshelf' column near the back of the book). Some authors, like
Geoffrey Gilluiano and Alan Clayson, painting him out to be a monster, grumpy
to fans and musicians alike and hiding drug addictions behind fake religious
beliefs. Others, like Joshua M Greene and Ian Ingles see George as a Saint,
unable to put a foot wrong and a guru everyone can look up to and yearn to be
like. This book is, if you hadn't noticed already, slightly different. George
was a three-dimensional being who loved exploring his contradictions in song,
to the point where he comes over as such a complex character that there truly
isn't really a contradiction. Because George could be anything as the mood
demanded: patient or impatient, as likely to write a 'love song' for his fans
as growl at them to leave him in peace, as likely to ask God to help us and
save our souls as have him give us what's coming to us, as obsessed with
earthly restrictions as the rest of us but somehow seeing more to life too.
'Our' George, portrayed in this book is, I hope, the one that he'd have
recognised the most: the flawed hero capable of transforming hearts and minds
as he is making mistakes, a musician who knew he could be difficult and
cantankerous and easily frustrated with human beings whilst carrying such love
for humanity as a whole and someone desperate to tell the truth and get on with
the work he felt he was here to do, who nevertheless spent long years in
hibernation away from the media spotlight. Once constant, though, is that
George never stopped trying to better both himself and by association us and
spent a lifetime speaking up for people with even quieter voices than his. The
Harrison back catalogue is, truly, as wonderfully full of noise and vibrancy
and power and feeling as any musicians' out there, for all that the music
released outside the halcyon and most successful years of 1970 and 1987 remains
largely an 'unknown delight' still, even now.
A NOW COMPLETE LIST OF GEORGE HARRISON ARTICLES TO READ AT
ALAN’S ALBUM ARCHIVES:
'Wonderwall Music' (1968) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/george-harrison-wonderwall-music-1968.html
'All Things Must Pass' (1970) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-42-george-harrison-all-things.html
'Living In The Material World' (1973) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2010/04/news-views-and-music-issue-58-george.html
'Dark Horse' (1974) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/news-views-and-music-issue-127-george.html
'Extra
Texture (Read All About It)' (1975) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/george-harrison-extra-texture-read-all.html
'Thirty-Three
And A Third' (1976) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/12/george-harrison-thirty-three-and-third.html
'George Harrison' (1979) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-74-george-harrison-1979.html
‘Somewhere In England’ (1981) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/george-harrison-somewhere-in-england_20.html
'George Harrison' (1979) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2008/07/review-74-george-harrison-1979.html
‘Somewhere In England’ (1981) http://www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/george-harrison-somewhere-in-england_20.html
'Gone
Troppo' (1982) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.com/2014/02/george-harrison-gone-troppo-1982.html
‘Cloud
Nine’ (1987) https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2017/06/george-harrison-cloud-nine-1987.html
'Brainwashed'
(2002) http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/george-harrison-brainwashed-2002.html
'Hidden
Harrison - The Best Unreleased Recordings' http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/george-harrison-hidden-harrison-best.html
Live/Compilation/Spin-Off
Albums Plus The Occasional Wilbury http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/george-harrison-live.html
Non-Album
Recordings 1968-2001 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/george-harrison-non-album-recordings.html
Surviving
TV Appearances 1971-2001 http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/george-harrison-surviving-tv.html
Essay: Why The Quiet Beatle Always Had So Much To Say https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/george-harrison-essay-why-quiet-one.html
Essay: Why The Quiet Beatle Always Had So Much To Say https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/george-harrison-essay-why-quiet-one.html
Five
Landmark Concerts and Three Key Cover Songs https://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2018/03/george-harrison-five-landmark-concerts.html
