Track of the Week: George Harrison "Wah-Wah"

Yesterday my buddy and erstwhile friend of the blog Brian I. posed an interesting question on his Facebook page, inspired by a conversation on another feed.  If there was a theoretical extra Beatles album made up of songs recorded by the members solo in 1970-1971, what would the track listing be?  It's a fascinating question, not least because those years saw a pretty impressive amount of material from  the former Fab Four, even including Ringo's hit "It Don't Come Easy."  (Starr also played drums on George and John's records, and his distinctive sound is all over them.)

Of all the Beatles, George Harrison put out the best album with All Things Must Pass, a triple disc wonder full of great songs that Lennon and McCartney had not allowed on the later Beatles records.  As with Lennon and McCartney, he also used his first solo album to comment on the rather acrimonious breakup of the band.  (If you're interested and don't mind getting depressed and having your illusions shattered, check out Peter Doggett's You Never Give Me Your Money.)  Harrison's frustrations with being put in the corner were public by this point, made famous by a testy studio exchange with McCartney captured on the dreary Let It Be documentary.

Lennon was pretty savage about all of this on "How Do You Sleep," and McCartney was a bit more veiled, but no less vicious on "Dear Boy" and "Smile Away."  The bitterness in these songs drags them down, Harrison used his ill will to craft a song that sounds joyous: "Wah-Wah."  It starts with an amazing, swirling psychedelic guitar figure before percussive piano and one of Ringo's best "funny fills" slams in and a mesmerizing wall of sound bursts forth.  It rushes along irresistibly with some absolutely searing guitar leads, making it one of my favorite songs for driving on the highway.  You'd never guess it's about getting a headache from dealing with Paul McCartney.

I think that makes sense, since Harrison used his first album as a kind of declaration of artistic independence, and the sheer awesomeness (in both senses of the word) of the song itself sends a message: "listen to this, and realize I don't need you anymore."  After all, Harrison declares "I don't need your wah-wah," which also makes this song a good one to blast while you're quitting a crummy job of your own.

Classic Albums: George Harrison, All Things Must Pass

My memories and music consumption are equally sensitive to the change in seasons.  This Sunday, walking with my girls in the park on a beautiful, mild September day, I recalled high school marching band competitions, 9/11, and seeing my first Nebraska football game at Memorial Stadium.  There are certain albums that also have seasonal associations for me, and among the most cherished is George Harrison's magnum opus, All Things Must Pass.  Fall is my favorite season by far, and a time that never fails to lift my spirits even as the leaves fall and the ground hardens.  All Things Must Pass's intense spirituality compliments my feelings during this time of year pretty well.

It is by far the best of all the Beatles solo records, a statement of artistic purpose and unloading of suppressed creativity that is absolutely stunning in its breadth.  While Lennon and McCartney were the principal songwriters in the Beatles, George really developed his chops over time, but was not allowed to get many of his songs on the Fab Four's records.  Considering that All Things Must Pass has at least twice as many great songs as the first solo records by Lennon and McCartney combined, I think George was in the right.  The fact that it's a triple album seems to send a message to his peers about how much he had been forced to hold back.

Harrison throws down the gauntlet on disc one, side one, which if released by itself would have been a major accomplishment.  He starts with the gorgeous "I'd Have You Anytime," which dives into "My Sweet Lord," a fervent prayer masquerading as a pop song.  Like many of the songs on this record, Harrison is not singing to a lover or his audience, but to God in devotional terms as beautiful as any piece composed by Bach.  On the next driving number, "Wah-Wah," the spiritual takes a back-seat as Harrison sings directly about the frustrations he had with the Beatles over a mighty wall of sound courtesy of famed producer Phil Spector.  (Here's an infamous clip of George snipping at Paul during the making of Let It Be to illustrate his irritation.)  He ends the side with "Isn't It a Pity," the call for peace and understanding that Lennon wishes he had written.  ("Imagine" is good but overrated, and glosses over the difficult questions George asks in this song.)

After all that, side two of disc one opens with "What Is Life," a song I love so much that my wife and I had it play as our arrival music at our wedding reception, and one that we still think of as "our song."  Perhaps he's singing to God, perhaps he's singing to Patti Harrison, either way it's a sublime expression of love.  After this string of show stoppers, the rest of the album is more varied but still as strong.  There's lighter stuff like "Apple Scruffs," lovingly dedicated to the Beatles fans who would wait for glimpses of them outside of the Apple offices, as well as "Beware of Darkness," a deeply spiritual, heavy song that I have long used as musical therapy in my own darker moments.  On lesser known songs like this, the too pretty for words "Behind That Locked Door," the moody "Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let it Roll)" and the positively joyous "Awaiting on You All," Harrison subtly obliterates the notion that the Beatles' greatness was down to McCartney and Lennon alone.

George never matched this album, but he never had to.  His former bandmates may have had many more hit records as solo artists, but none of them painted a masterpiece, and George did.  Isn't that the real goal of a true artist anyway?