While Lennon was having his “lost weekend,” Harrison was experiencing his own “naughty period.” Alcohol and drugs were back in the picture for Harrison, fueled in no small part by the various sexual infidelities that both he and wife Patti experienced. Basically a series of wife-swapping scenarios, where Harrison hooked up with Ron Wood’s wife, while Ron in turn was with Patti; Harrison’s declaration of love and subsequent affair with Ringo’s wife, Maureen, and, most notably, as was witnessed by the press and fans alike, Patti’s leaving George for George’s friend, Eric Clapton.
Add to the mix all of the things on Harrison’s plate, including the creation of his new record label, producing albums for other artists, executive producing a movie, dealing with the final death throws of Apple and Beatle related things, and organizing the first concert tour of North America by a former Beatle, Harrison had a lot on his plate in 1974. All of these things, and more, help to explain Harrison’s third studio album, Dark Horse. They don’t excuse the album, certainly his worst to date, but knowing these things helps soften the blow. (His schedule may also explain Harrison’s absence on Ringo’s Goodnight Vienna, although his affair with Maureen may have played a part as well.)
When I first listened to the album Dark Horse, I had no idea about Harrison’s trials and tribulations. I vividly remember being underwhelmed after the first spin. On the second go-round, I liked the album better, but only marginally. Unlike his previous studio albums, All Things Must Pass and Living in the Material World, which, among other themes, focused on Harrison’s spirituality, for Dark Horse, if there even was a theme, it was more personal and considerably darker. It took me a while to figure out, but I think Dark Horse was Harrison’s Plastic Ono Band. Not as stark, of course, but still containing a lot of personal angst, anger and even a bit of snark. Replacing Lennon’s scream therapy, Harrison’s obvious laryngitic vocal adds to the overall malaise that permeates the album. Not nearly as bad as its reputation suggests, and not as preachy as his previous albums, Dark Horse is not exactly a fun listen.
The lethargic instrumental Hari’s on Tour (Express) opens the album. It’s got some nice slide guitar work by George, and the repeated theme is fine, but leads nowhere and becomes boring rather quickly. While an inauspicious opening to his album, Hari’s on Tour (Express) was also the opening song for all of Harrison’s gigs during his concert tour. As a band warmup and introduction of Harrison onto the stage, the song works better.
Simply Shady is the Harrison autobiography for the last year or so and overflows with self-pity. Worse, if Hari’s On Tour (Express) is lethargic, Simply Shady stops the record dead. Harrison’s squelchy voice is cloying and is not the least bit contrite. It’s as if he doesn’t care. Then why should we?
Probably the most depressing song Harrison wrote, So Sad at least is a good song. The pain of the separation from his wife Patti is obvious and, while Harrison’s singing is still strained, here that strain fits. While it’s the sound of his dobro that takes center stage, it’s the lush sound of Harrison’s 12-string acoustic guitar that helps drive the song.
When I first heard Harrison’s version of Bye Bye, Love I hated it. Ha-ate-ed it. The key was off, the lyrics weren’t right and Harrison’s vocals were really smarmy. That was back when I had no idea what was happening in his personal life. Now, of course, the lyric changes make more sense. “There goes our lady, with ah you-know-who/I hope she’s happy, an ol’ Clapper too…”
“Ol’ Clapper”? Yikes!
But knowing what the song means doesn’t make it any better. It actually makes it worse. Bitter, vindictive and petty, delivered with that condescending smarmy vocal, the song is also oddly placed in the album’s sequence. Coming right after So Sad, a song expressing the heartbreak of loosing Patti, itself coming after Simply Shady, where Harrison details the sins he himself had committed, Bye Bye, Love becomes even more frustratingly juvenile.
At least Harrison followed Bye Bye, Love with Maya Love. An upbeat-ish bluesy slide-guitar song (with kicking piano licks courtesy of Billy Preston), Maya Love sees Harrison being a bit more philosophical about his split with Patti. It’s one of the few highlights on the album, particularly refreshing coming after Bye Bye, Love, and a positive-ish way to end side one.
I was not used to hearing holiday songs on regular albums so when I first heard Ding Dong, Ding Dong I didn’t know if it was a song about New Year’s or not. I did know that the song, while lyrically vapid, was one of those songs you could, and would, sing along with every time you heard it. I didn’t quite realize that it was also a song you would be compelled to sing even when it wasn’t playing. It’s the quintessential ear worm song. It’s also a Phil Spector-ish wall-of-sound song that becomes almost overpowering.
As a holiday song, Ding Dong, Ding Dong comes nowhere near Lennon’s Happy Xmas (War is Over), but is also not nearly as cloying as McCartney’s Wonderful Christmas Time. It is interesting that, given his spirituality and all, the song is not a Christmas song but rather the much more rare, New Year’s song.
Or is it?
Even before I understood Harrison’s personal issues of the day, I absolutely noticed that the picture that graces the label of the LP’s Side 2 is of the eyes of a dark-haired woman who is obviously not Patti. Harrison’s own eyes are on Side 1, and those eyes are clearly smiling, and not in a sarcastic way, either. (Which, given the tone of Side 1, would have been, perhaps, more appropriate.) Of course the un-named woman on Side 2’s label is Harrison’s future wife, Olivia. “Ring out the old, ring in the new.” Indeed.
The title song is also the album’s best song, although it does, once again, seem to take dead aim at Patti. Maybe Clapton too. Or is it taking aim at McCartney? Or Lennon? Perhaps all four. Or none of them at all. That’s the interesting thing about the song. While lyrically pretty specific, Dark Horse is also open to interpretation. Once again it’s Harrison’s pulsing acoustic guitar that gets the tune a-hummin’. Harrison’s vocals are about shot, and while it sounds as if he is really aching to clear his throat, that aggression works pretty well in the context of the song.
The smooth jazzy Far East Man sounds like it would be more at home on a Steely Dan album, but comes as a welcome surprise. Penned by Harrison and Ron “Would-if-you-let-him” (as Harrison’s hand-written credits describes him. No doubt a reference to Wood’s dalliance with Patti. Harrison doesn’t ascribe a similar credit to himself in regards to his own dalliance with Wood’s wife.), Far East Man seems to be Harrison’s accepting Patti’s leaving while also a welcoming to his new love, Olivia.
Of course this being a Harrison album, some kind of spiritual song had to be included, in this case Harrison saving it for the last track on the album. It Is ‘He’ (Jai Sri Krishna) has a bright, catchy, repetitive chorus, but the short, slowed down verses are where a bit of the preachiness comes in. Given the turmoil contained in many of the previous songs, It Is ‘He’ (Jai Sri Krishna) is George reminding himself, as well as us, that “He” is what really matters. While the song itself is okay, given the content of most of the album, the sentiment seems unconvincing.
I chuckled when I first heard Harrison’s introduction to the b-side to the Dark Horse single called I Don’t Care Anymore, “We got a b-side to make, ladies and gentlemen/We’ve not much time so we better get on with it” but the song is hardly funny nor fun. For much of the Dark Horse album, Harrison laments and/or criticizes Patti for the dissolution of their marriage. Here, Harrison unabashedly sings about having his own affair with a married woman, and damn the consequences. It’s an eat-his-cake-and-have-it-too attitude, sung with a real bitterness; the laryngitis nearly strangling his delivery, adding to the venom. The “I don’t care anymore” sentiment of the song feels all too real, like it’s a statement to us, for us, the fans. As it’s only a b-side, it’s easy to dismiss, but it certainly could have been included on George Harrison/Plastic Ono Band.
While Dark Horse isn’t an album I return to often, when I do I find I like it more and more. I particularly like how the 2014 remix brings out the acoustic guitars, and on that same release, the bonus track Dark Horse (Early Take) shows what the album might have been had Harrison not recorded so many of his vocals while suffering his laryngitis. Of course his tour dates were already set, and he needed an album to tour behind (although Dark Horse came out mid-tour anyway), so Harrison had little choice but to record with his voice the way it was. He toured with his voice that way, too, and it wasn’t long before it was referred to as the Dark Hoarse Tour.
Now about that infamous tour… For years I’d read that Harrison’s only North American Tour was a disaster of epic proportions, and having no reason to doubt those claims, I believed it. I have since heard several recordings of various shows on the tour, and it’s clear that the shows were a huge success. As with the Bangla Desh concerts, a portion of the show was given over to Ravi Shankar and his group performing Indian music, which should have come as no surprise to Harrison fans. Also like the concerts for Bangla Desh, Harrison shared the stage with Billy Preston, allowing Harrison’s voice to get some rest. In the concerts I’ve heard, Harrison’s voice is strained, but not to any degree that lessened his performance. He seems in good cheer throughout, like he’s enjoying himself, and that enjoyment is also reflected by the audience, particularly when Harrison starts to play one of his old tunes back from when he was with the Fabs.
Ah, George and the Beatles. No other former Beatle wanted to shed that Beatle skin more than Harrison. Or did he?
The fascinating thing about Harrison vs. the Beatles is that, of all the former Lads’, he was the one to reference and/or return to them most often (save Ringo). On his 1974 Tour, Harrison revisited at least four Beatles tunes. Yes, to the astonishment of many, he altered the lyrics (the silliest being “My guitar can’t keep from smiling”), but the fact is, in a show that feature Harrison singing a dozen songs or so, nearly a third were Beatle tunes. And one was by Lennon and McCartney! (The very lyrically altered In My Life). Contrast that with the few concerts Lennon gave. When Lennon revisited The Beatles he played Come Together and/or Yer Blues. (And, famously with Elton John, I Saw Her Standing There). In order to distance himself as far as he could from his Beatle past and, instead establish his new band, McCartney didn’t revisit any of his old tunes. (He would, of course, for the Wings Over America Tour; but that’s two hence.)
Harrison didn’t just revisit his past in concert. His video for Ding Dong, Ding Dong has him donning both the ol’ collarless suit as well as his old Sgt. Pepper attire. Ring out the old…? Maybe.
Like Starr did years before in Early 1970, Harrison name checks all three former mates in Living in the Material World, and even name checks Sexy Sadie in Simply Shady.
I’m not suggesting George pined for the old days, just saying that, despite what he might have been saying out loud, George was occasionally looking back, and perhaps not always with disdain.
No comments:
Post a Comment