Aural Fixations

GEORGE HARRISON
Thirty Three & 1/3
George Harrison
Somewhere in England
Gone Troppo
Cloud Nine
Live in Japan
(Dark Horse/Capitol)
Apres la morte, le deluge. Sarcasm aside, it's only natural that Capitol would bring the late George Harrison's lost albums back into print following his death; it's a tragedy that so much of the underrated ex-Beatle's work had slipped into obscurity in the first place. (Especially in the case of the blockbuster-selling Cloud Nine, which boasted a #1 hit.) These six albums, originally issued on Harrison's own Dark Horse imprint, have been given the usual remastering/bonus track treatment; most have song-by-song notes excerpted from Harrison's autobiography I Me Mine. How well does this music hold up after 25 years? Let's find out.

Thirty Three & 1/3, originally released in 1976, begins with a style I'd have never expected to hear on a George Harrison record: funk. Over a popping bass and a greasy clavinet, Harrison sings "Woman Don't You Cry For Me" with a breezy ease; he'll never be mistaken for Stevie Wonder (clearly the song's inspiration), but he doesn't embarrass his British cracker self either. A bit of a disco beat creeps into the tunes "See Yourself" and "Crackerbox Palace," but not enough to be obnoxious. "Learning How to Love You" is a warm-bath ballad, while tracks like "This Song" (which addresses the copyright infringement suit over "My Sweet Lord"), "It's What You Value" and the bonus cut "Tears of the World" are his usual light guitar pop, with his warmly appealing voice front and center in the arrangements. The self-titled 1979 album follows the same formula, minus the funk: some vaguely groovy pop ("Blow Away," "Love Comes to Everyone," "If You Believe," which sounds like a dry run for his collaboration with Jeff Lynne) and a few pretty ballads ("Soft Touch," "Here Comes the Moon," "Your Love is Forever"), with rewarding digressions into acoustic roots rock ("Soft Hearted Hana") and a blatant attempt at All Things Must Pass-like epic majesty ("Faster," though the lyrics are about Formula One racing). Both records are modestly successful, not because Harrison didn't have the talent to make another All Things Must Pass, but because he didn't have the ambition. His superlative melodic, instrumental and vocal gifts, as well as his taste in session musicians, make these records supremely listenable, particularly George Harrison, but you get the feeling he wasn't trying particularly hard. [buy Thirty Three & 1/3] [buy George Harrison]

Somewhere in England, from 1981, is dominated by the grooving but poignant "All Those Years Ago," Harrison's tribute to the recently slain John Lennon that ended up being a massive hit single. Nothing on the rest of the album is at that level. The lyrics for "Blood From a Clone," an attack on the music industry set to a then-current new wave rhythm, read angry, but Harrison's casual delivery takes too much of the sting out of them. "Unconsciousness Rules" and the odd take on Hoagy Carmichael's "Hong Kong Blues" boast the usual Harrison melodic snap, but still come off as throwaways. Only on ballads such as "Life Itself," "Writing's On the Wall" and a beautiful cover of Carmichael's "Baltimore Oriole" does the guitarist come off as truly heartfelt. (The earnest but clumsy "Save the World," which sounds one of his former bandmate Paul McCartney's castoffs, works better in the acoustic demo version.) Somewhere in England is a solid, professional release, but not exactly a highlight. 1982's Gone Troppo, Harrison's last record for five years, is pretty much along the same lines. It isn't awful, by any means; indeed, it doesn't really deserve the scorn that's been heaped upon it by outlets like the Rolling Stone Record Guide and All Music. But it's probably the least of his many works. Though tunes like "That's the Way It Goes," "Baby Don't Run Away" (analogous to what ELO was doing about the same time, no coincidence, I'm sure) and "Greece" are mere trifles, light 80s pop apparently cranked out to satisfy contractual requirements, only "I Really Love You" (some sort of Beach Boys pastiche, I guess?) and the half-assed Caribbean pop of the title track are truly awful. It doesn't help that synthesizers, rather than guitars, shoulder the melodic weight. Unsurprisingly, the standout track is once again an acoustic demo, this time of "Mystical One," which is fairly uninteresting in its produced form, but quite lovely stripped down. Again, Harrison's innate abilities still make this appealing, but it's the kind of album one keeps around more to complete a collection than to put in the player with any kind of regularity. [buy Somewhere in England] [buy Gone Troppo]

Five years passed before new Harrison music hit the shelves, and when it did, it comprised his best album since All Things Must Pass. Like his previous Dark Horse LPs, Cloud Nine is an unabashed pop record, but on this one Harrison sounds completely engaged, like he's having fun making music again. At least partial credit can go to producer Jeff Lynne, who makes the tunes leap out of the speakers with bright sound and beautifully appropriate arrangements. Harrison also had the support of his friends, including Eric Clapton, Gary Wright, Elton John and even Ringo Starr. But the album's main muscle comes from the man himself, as he turns in his best set of songs in over a decade. Upbeat pop tunes like "This is Love," "Wreck of the Hesperus" and "Fish on the Sand" freely mix his spiritual outlook with ear-grabbing hooks, while his sense of satire rears its head on "Devil's Radio" (which pokes at the media) and "When We Was Fab" (which lampoons his own status as a famous ex-Beatle). He also shines on the ballads; Paul McCartney had the love-man rep in the Beatles, but the beauty of "Just For Today" and especially "Someplace Else" proves that Harrison was every bit Mac's equal. Of course, the record also contains the smash "Got My Mind Set on You," a cover of an old R&B tune that, walloping 80s drums aside, holds up quite nicely. (The bonus cuts are throwaways from the soundtrack to the failed film Shanghai Surprise, which Harrison produced.) Harrison also sparkles on guitar, trading licks and solos with old friend Eric Clapton; as on the Cream classic "Badge" and the Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps," the two six-stringers bring out the best in each other. To top it off, his singing never sounded better. Cloud Nine is a high water mark in Harrison's long career, and proved that he still had much to offer and more to say to a world that might have dismissed him as nostalgia. [buy it]

Of course, he wouldn't make another studio record for over ten years, but he should be commended for his restraint; he didn't make music until he felt he once again had something to say. Which makes 1992's Live in Japan a bit of a hiccup. Recorded in 1991 before adoring Osaka and Tokyo crowds, the record finds Harrison dutifully running through selections from both his Beatles ("Here Comes the Sun," "Old Brown Shoe," "Something") and his solo ("Dark Horse," "What is Life," "Cloud 9") catalogs with what's essentially Eric Clapton's band (including Slowhand himself). The notoriously concert-shy Harrison delivers a solid, unprepossessing set, but it comes from professionalism rather than passion; as with so much of his 70s and early 80s work, the music works because of the artist's talent and work ethic more than any real inspiration in the performances. It doesn't help that Harrison often sounds tentative at the mic, though he and Clapton sound like they're enjoying the guitar duel in "When My Guitar Gently Weeps." Live in Japan almost ended up being the capper of his career; fortunately, he rallied from beyond the grave with the excellent Brainwashed. Regardless of the relative merits of these records, it's good to have them back in print, if only to satisfy the George Harrison completists among us. Michael Toland [buy it]