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The start of All Things Must Pass almost felt to me like a natural continuation of “The End” to me, off of the final album that George Harrison and his fellow Beatles put out. The texture is similar, the chords equally as haunting, and the words just as vexing as “In the end, the love you take/is equal to the love you make”. The words, somehow, got better, with Bob Dylan taking songwriting credits. “Let me know you/let me show you/Let me grow upon you,” pleads Harrison in quiet desperation. “My Sweet Lord” completes an amazing 1-2 punch to start off this massive album, with simple Christian praise lyrics mixed with aspects of Indian spirituality that Harrison subscribed to from as early as the mid-Beatles era.
Maybe this is as good a point as any to mention spirituality and popular music. It’s a subject that I, attending a Christian university and having been in Christian institutions for the majority of my education, have often had to wrestle with. I’m not the only one, either. My colleagues, both religious and not, have had discussions around this, the subject matter of which is fairly predictable (“Dude, listening to ‘Stairway to Heaven’ is such a spiritual journey!”). The flip side of the coin, in my opinion, is a false division between what we consider sacred music and secular music. It’s something I’ve tried to counteract when I find myself leading worship somewhere, and I’ve seen others do it a lot better than I ever could. This includes playing songs in worship settings like “Me & My Bobby McGee”, or even Coldplay for crying out loud. If that fits the criteria, things like “My Sweet Lord” certainly do.
What catches the ear about the spirituality of All Things Must Pass is its blurry views on spirituality. “My Sweet Lord” and “Hear Me Lord” are clearly ruminations on a monotheistic Christian viewpoint of religion, but what about the Krishna references that are present on songs like “Beware of Darkness”? When you focus on these aspects of the record, it becomes much more than just a former Beatle finding his solo legs. George Harrison now has a medium to say exactly what he is experiencing with full license to not just run with his ideas, but spread his wings and fly.
This is, I believe, the first time we have run into the mad mutant Phil Spector style of production known as the Wall of Sound on this countdown. In studying audio engineering, I have never come across anyone who records like this now. It’s far too labor intensive, and it loses some of the sparseness and subtleties that you get by using more traditional recording techniques. The whole record, while it still has a very organic feel, still has enough wallop to plaster your hair to your head and make your molars rattle around a little bit. In a lot of ways, I suppose there’s an influential aspect here when you consider the size of rock music that came in the next decade or so. I do wonder what this would have sounded like with a more typical recording style though.
One of the big benefits of the Wall of Sound method is that the sounds wash over you to create an immersive musical experience. “Let It Down” is an excellent example of this, with the more dissonant chord structures and larger orchestration with strings and brass. This is one that you put on your turntable, dim the lights, grab that Glenlivet, and close your eyes. Try not to doze off as I might have – it’s not a fun thing to wake up at 2 in the morning with the album having run out and having a class in just over 6 hours. Something like “Awaiting On You All” has a similar effect, but this was more reminiscent of that Beck road trip we went on back in December.
What I liked the most about this album was the sound of community. You could tell that George was having a great time stretching his legs after years of being a guy that got to sing maybe 3 songs on an album and play second Rickenbacker to Lennon and McCartney. He got to work with all kinds of talented people – not directing them, but more an organic, feel-it sort of approach. The result of this community was that the different songs took on different vibes. From the hard rockin’ of the power jam “Wah-Wah”, to the slinking country-esque slow dance that is “Behind That Locked Door”, to the absolutely banging “Art of Dying”, you could hear different influences and inputs from various contributors, which included members of The Band, the aforementioned Bob Dylan, and Eric Clapton.
The amount of material is enough to scare away a casual listener for sure, so maybe this is a record best fitting for a Saturday morning solo walk, or else a hangout with a small group of friends. However you choose to listen, it is certainly a pleasure.
BF: Yeah, not going to lie, I have no idea how to write a review. But here we go.
I figured I was going to need a bit of context as I prepared to write any semblance of a review. So prepare yourself for some background information; you are so welcome. I tried to focus in on the music too, but this history major loooves her some historical context.
George Harrison, known more famously as a member of The Beatles, really carved out a solo career for himself both while working with The Beatles and after the break-up in 1970. This particular album, All Things Must Pass, was his third solo project, which he recorded in May of 1970, one month after the disbanding of The Beatles. I’ve always liked the songs he’d written for The Beatles. His song “Something” is one of my favourite tunes. I really wanted to like this album; I felt like it was my duty as a Beatles fan. That’s not quite what happened.
I don’t know what I was expecting when I sat down to listen to the album. The first song, “I’d Have You Anytime”, instantly made me think of The Beatles. I mean, how could it not? The bass takes me back to the breakdown at the end of…well, “The End.” Distancing myself from Beatles work and trying to see this album as an independent thing was tricky. He definitely had different things to say; one of the songs is called “Hear Me Lord.” Definitely not Beatles content. “Forgive me Lord/Oh Please/For the years when I ignored you.” I don’t think John would have gone anywhere near a lyric like that. So I attempted to clear my mind of Beatles memories and plunged head first into the rest of the album.
The first thing I thought when I heard “Apple Scruffs” was, “Hello harmonica!” Unexpected, to say the least. You can really hear the influence of the time Harrison spent with Bob Dylan and The Band. The complicated chording of previous songs is forgotten. He keeps it light by switching between two chords for the breaks in the song. If I didn’t have the Wikipedia page open next to me, giving me context for how and why and when all these songs were written, I don’t think I’d enjoy this album as much as I did. I loved learning that this song was dedicated to all the fans who hung out outside the studio as he recorded the album. It’s a fun, toe-tapping song of appreciation. It definitely differs in tone from the beginning of the album, which is where Harrison seemed to have put more of his breakup songs.
The song “Wah-Wah” felt different than most of the songs on the album. And I think it was meant to. It wasn’t my favourite song, because I wanted Harrison to sound like The Beatles. I placed that expectation on his music, which seems to be exactly the opposite of what he wanted. Sorry, George. This song, written about the band’s breakup, made me feel unsettled. You can hear the irritation of Harrison towards his fellow Beatles. It’s distinctly different in sound too; the guitar lick and drums in from the beginning, the dissonant wah-wahs voicing his frustration at the way he was treated by his bandmates. “You made me such a star/Being there at the right time/Cheaper than a dime.” He makes the music yell for him.
This album is such a weird mix of nostalgia, breakup songs, and spiritual realization. I guess it was put together at a time of turmoil in Harrison’s life, but come on, man, pick a mood. Or at least, follow a mood. It feels like what it is: a collection of material from various points in his life. You’ve got some rejected Beatles material, like in “Let it Down” with that big band sound, throwing in Harrison’s love of slide guitar, with a big entrance to a bluesy breakdown. You’ve got “Run of the Mill”, which is Harrison reflecting on dealing with the influence of running their company, Apple Corps. Then you have something super spiritual like “Awaiting on You All”, calling out John and Yoko on their approach to religion and world peace. He’s got a lot to say about a lot of things. I’m really glad Harrison put this album together. I am, really, even though I was jolted out of my skin when “Hear Me Lord” finished and “It’s Johnny’s Birthday” followed. You want a song to fill your nightmares with dancing clowns? Then play “It’s Johnny’s Birthday.” Once is enough, believe me.
All Things Must Pass is a transitional piece for Harrison. I think the title of the album explains that pretty clearly to us listeners. He is moving on. The Beatles time has passed. Sorry if the historical context has been overbearing. I just really feel that this album is important because it’s a sort of documentary. I’m not convinced that we’re reviewing this for its musical mastery. I don’t want to sell George Harrison short; the man has a way with words. I just found I wasn’t blown away by the arrangements; it all feels very familiar. Listening to different harmonies, I found myself thinking, “Well, that’s just like in [insert Beatles song here].” I think this album is amazing because it’s such a unique documentation of the end of an era, while also being a very personal story. So thank you, George, for giving us fans a glimpse into your life in, ladies and gentlemen, The Beatles.
BH:George Harrison is the guitarist from the Beatles. All Things Must Pass was Harrison’s first solo album since the breakup of the Beatles in 1970, and represents his third solo album. Harrison’s post-Beatles sound burst on the scene in a big way — the triple album contains an impressive amount of material with a diverse stylistic and sonic palette. Ben Gerson of Rolling Stone described his sound as “Wagnerian, Brucknerian, the music of mountain tops and vast horizons”.
Quick note for those less familiar with the German late-Romantic (late 1800s) tradition: Wagner is known for pushing Western harmony to its breaking point with expressive chromatic harmony and experimental, continuous forms of writing that never rest (no tidy cadences or breaks in the sound). His grandiose, all-encompassing vision for art changed Western music forever. Bruckner is notable for his rich harmonies, thick sounds and really long compositions.
So what’s so Wagnerian about this album?
What struck me first was the quality of the sound. It’s dense, thick. Unlike most pop music, the vocals are somewhere in the middle of the texture. Recorded in 1970’s and produced by Phil Spector and Gold Star Studios, the album is a notable example of the “wall of sound” production technique. Wall of Sound calls to mind particularly powerful moments of Wagner operas, where the strings are just sawing away and the horns are blasting and the soprano is wailing and you’re plastered to the back of your chair by the force of the combined forces. Spector’s Wall of Sound is a bit different. By recording several guitarists record the same parts in unison and adding arrangements for large ensemble with orchestral instruments, and the recording the sound using an echo chamber. The result is a dense, layered and reverberant sound, a wall, that carried well on AM radio jukeboxes. To my millennial ears, I got a lot of noise. I missed clarity of sound and all the reverb was tiring. But there’s no denying that its a powerful effect.
“My Sweet Lord,” one of the hit singles from the album, demonstrates the Wall of Sound to great effect. We’ve got drums, horns, backing choir, acoustic guitar, tambourine, lead vocals, strings, horns and a whole lot of echo. It’s also an interesting example of Harrison’s mystical spiritual bent, apparently shaped during the Beatles’ trip to Northern India to attend Advanced Transcendental Mediation. The backing choir responds to Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” with “Hallelujah,” meaning “God be praised”. Later, they sing “Hare Krishna,” and “Hare Rama” which are names of the Supreme Being in Hinduism. The whole album is dotted with spiritual lyrics, notably in “Awaiting On You All”, and “Art of Dying”.
“Awaiting On You All” and the next track, All Things Must Pass really capture the scope of the album. “Awaiting On You All” has an overwhelming quantity of reverb. It’s hopeful, up-tempo and anthemic. It’s “the music of mountain tops and vast horizons,” a call to healing through a new-age spirituality outside to organized religion. From this huge, booming anthem, we simmer down to a string-heavy slide guitar ballad on the brevity of life’s troubles and of life itself. Side note: listen for the horn part. It bears remarkable similarity to the horns in Andy Shauf’s 2016 track, “The Magician”. The musical contrast and poetic range are representative of what the entire album is trying to do, that is, express the range of human experience from the mundane, everyday heartaches to the mountaintop moments of spiritual clarity, to contemplative existential moments.
Wagnerian? Maybe in its big sound and large scope. I don’t think Wagner would appreciate the comparison. Nonetheless, the album offered plenty of big sounds to digest, and enough spiritual and existential musings to keep me curious.
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