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All Things Must Pass
This article was first publlished on fish.co.uk in January 2002.
Back in the mists of ancient history, in the days of
Beatlemania and floppy hair, when people could use the word
'fab' without irony, a journalist at a press conference
asked George what his personal goal was.
"To do as well as I can at whatever I attempt," was the not-terribly-rock-'n'-roll reply. "And someday to die with a peaceful mind."
It seems he succeeded. When he died in November, his family reported, "He left this world as he lived in it, conscious of God, fearless of death, and at peace." Not a bad way to go.
Well, life goes on, within you and without you. But in Harrison's case the life that continues without him is richer for his legacy, both musical and spiritual.
1. MUSICALLY, there can be little left to say that has not been said to death over the last couple of months. His underrated, understated guitar solos, fine vocals and a handful of superb songs added a vital dimension to the Beatles.
His solo career produced some memorable hit singles, the sprawling but lauded triple album All Things Must Pass, and some avant garde instrumental LPs that most obituary writers have had the generosity to forget about.
But perhaps his most far-reaching legacy is in the simple fact that he learnt to play the sitar - and not just because it then became obligatory for 18 months for every self-respecting band to have that exotic drone on one track, but because it helped to open pop music up towards a far wider world. To globalise rock and roll.
When the Beatles started, rock and roll almost entirely consisted of electric guitars, piano and drums. When John turned up to the Help sessions with an acoustic guitar (for 'You've Got To Hide Your Love Away'), he was ribbed by the others for trying to be Bob Dylan.
Harrison first came across the sitar in 1965 on the Help film set, and it made its unforgettable pop debut the same year in 'Norwegian Wood' - a thoroughly unindian song, where it adds a perfect accompaniment to that acoustic of John's.
When he broke a string, Harrison phoned the Indian embassy for help and was eventually introduced to the maestro Ravi Shankar, from whom he took lessons. Shankar had no idea who the Beatles were, and when he heard 'Norwegian Wood' he hated it, comparing Harrison's playing to 'some Indian villager trying to play the violin'. Later they became very close.
Harrison increasingly had the sitar accompanied by other Indian instruments, singing Indian philosophy to Indian melodies ('Love You To', 'Within You Without You'), though he still felt free to play rock sitar too on 'She Said She Said'.
Now Paul was experimenting with French horns and harpsichords, and John with the sounds of wierdness in general. The sitar has not maintained it faddish position in rock music, but the gates were open, and by the 70s no one thought twice about, say, having an accordion in the band or using Latin American tunes.
Admittedly, some of rock's more pretentious 'experiments' make you wish someone had stamped on George's hand the moment he reached out for that sitar. But when Moby uses monastic chant or Sting duets with the Algerian marvel Cheb Mami, you have to be grateful that the sounds of rock and roll have become infinitely more varied in texture, a much more appropriate reflection of our patchwork quilt culture.
2. SPIRITUALLY, the story is remarkably similar. Harrison's personal exploration and taste for all things Indian led him into Eastern religion; the other fab three followed, and suddenly karma, yogis and chanting were the national dish of the day. And again, it soon cooled off. The difference is that the four stars journeying east in search of a wise man has had an immeasurable impact in our culture.
The 60s ended the monopoly of Christianity in Britain. Exposure to Eastern spirituality was largely responsible for this in two ways: it introduced Europeans to a new world religion for the first time since Islam turned up in the first millennium; and it introduced the hugely alluring idea that all faiths are one.
'My Sweet Lord' is the perfect example of this. The first half of the song would sit perfectly in Songs Of Fellowship:
I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you, Lord...
My sweet Lord
Mm, my Lord
Mm, my Lord
I really want to know you
I really want to go with you
Really want to show you, LordChorus: 'Hallelujah x4'. Sound familiar?
But then the hallelujahs subtly transform into 'Hare Krisha's, and it turns out that the sweet lord is Krishna rather than Christ - or as well as Christ, I should say. For Hindus and for Harrison, worship of Krishna is worship of Christ and vice versa. Different faiths have different names for the same God.
In a few decades, this pluralistic attitude has spread throughout our society, to the point where (according to a 2000 BBC survey) only 9% of us consider our own religion the best path to God - let alone the only one.
Other eastern ideas preached by Harrison have also become popular, if less all-pervading. The same survey suggests that one in four Britons now believes in reincarnation, for example - fewer than believe the Bible is the unique word of God.
It would be slightly simplistic to suggest that George Harrison or the Beatles were single-handedly responsible for all this. Immigration to Britain from Asia, for example, has made a huge difference in turning the country into a spiritual stewpot. Nevertheless, it is clear that the Beatles had a huge influence in persuading more adventurous listeners to explore alternative religions, and the less adventurous to be more tolerant of them.
So has George Harrison's legacy proved a good or bad thing for Christianity? Church attendance took a nosedive in the 60s and has continued to plummet, something few Christians will rejoice in. It has also become harder to maintain the idea that Jesus was uniquely divine.
But there is a more positive side to it too. For one thing, it's healthy for us to come face to faith with other faiths. The church has been too quick throughout history to write off non-Christians as ignorant heathen - a display of our own ignorance. Whether we now accept them as fellow-travellers, or think they are misled, there is no excuse for not taking them seriously.
Secondly, there is also something healthy about the church becoming less mainstream. When Harrison first went to India, he was bowled over by the fact that "Over there, religion is every minute and every second of their lives - it is them." This comment does not reflect well on the Catholicism he was brought up with - surely this is what Christianity should be too. But when everyone in the country is automatically signed up for it without thinking, it becomes a godless label. Isn't it better that now only the ones who take it seriously enough to live it wear it?
And lastly, along with others like Dylan, the Beatles allowed spiritual themes for the first time into the hallowed sanctuary of rock and roll. This in turn made way for more Christian musicians like Van Morrison, the later Dylan himself, and U2, turning rock and roll into the spiritual voice for a churchless generation.
If George Harrison's music one way or another has helped people,
Searching for the truth among the lying
And learning the art of dying
What more could you ask?
