A Rake's Snake on the Make; George Harrison: 'Ho

Oh, to be a George.

As I was discussing the legend of Harrison’s carnal guzzling, my partner said, “I’d’ve done him. I don’t care if he was a ‘ho. He was George Harrison.” 

Even for the Beatle described as the "melancholic” and “quiet” one, he still managed to get himself, well, up in more p*ssy than a bidet. Beatles expert Bill Harry claimed Harrison had “hundreds and hundreds of affairs.” (According to Harry, even at that George still came in second to Lennon.) And like any (quiet) champion, the playa didn’t have to boast about life behind the zipper—certainly not in song.

(Some of the history of Harrison’s amatory exploits were covered in Scorsese’s documentary—co-produced by Harrison’s wife—Living in the Material World in 2011.)

Oh Boy George

In George’s two marriages, both wives claimed he was an inveterate philanderer: the first, Patti Boyd (1966-1977), would get some side action herself—she being the actual Layla of Eric Clapton’s imagination, as well as being the muse of George’s Something and a few others; the second, Olivia née Arias (1978 until his death in 2001), knew from the beginning what she was getting into. She’d refer to his assorted peccadillos as “hiccups.” She told The Guardian: He liked women and women liked him. If he just said a couple of words to you, it would have a profound effect. It was hard to deal with someone who was so well-loved. 

Olivia sitting through a hiccup

For most of us, faithfulness in relationships is relatively unchallenging, if for no other reason than our general limitation of opportunities. Reasonably attractive celebrities—and some not so, including renowned braggart Dustin Hoffman—have no trouble spinning the WAP counter. While no doubt his Rolodex was loaded with many anxious possibilities, the obstacle of Harrison’s marriage was a slight one, made easier through the many chemical-fueled parties at his Friar Park estate. (A glimpse of its Downton Abbey scaled gardens were featured in the cover shot of All Things Must Past.)

Even so, given Harrison’s history, it seems likely that a simple hookup wouldn’t be nearly enough. This may explain his pouncing on both Ringo’s and Ron Wood’s wives.

Here’s what the Wiki page for his Dark Horse album had to say:

Patti Boyd in her Layla garb

Wounded by Harrison's frequent infidelities, Boyd left him for Eric Clapton in July 1974, having previously had an affair with another of her husband's guitar-playing friends, Ron Wood of the Faces. Both of these dalliances would also receive attention on the Dark Horse album, which Harrison's musical biographer, Simon Leng, has described as "a musical soap opera, cataloging rock-life antics, marital strife, lost friendships, and self-doubt". In his rewrite of the Everly Brothers' “Bye Bye, Love”, Harrison declared: “There goes our lady, with a-you-know-who / I hope she's happy, old Clapper too”; while his handwritten liner notes listed one of the guest musicians on “Ding Dong, Ding Dong” as “Ron Would If You Let Him”. For his part, Harrison had taken up with Starr's wife, Maureen Starkey, and the UK tabloids soon reported him as being romantically involved with model Kathy Simmons (ex-girlfriend of Rod Stewart) as well as Krissy Wood (wife of the Faces guitar player). Shortly before Dark Horse's release, Harrison would dodge reporters' questions regarding his private life with a suggestion that people wait for the new album, saying, “It's like Peyton Place.”

That scamp Harrison also reportedly did some serious cupcaking and maybe more with Madonna on the set of Shanghai Surprise (his Handmade Films produced—a film that did so badly at the box office it was dubbed Flop Suey). She was still married to Sean Penn at the time. George was also known to pick through the stable of secretaries and office personnel at his film company over its 15 years. (He met Olivia working for his record company.) 

George and Paul are also known to have shared at least one girlfriend in the early days and George and John both picked a Ronette on an early tour.

Patti trying to hold on

The Road Ahead

Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear...

Beatle Juice: Their Greatest Songs They Didn't Write

The Beatles and their impact: We know they’ve influenced multiple cultures, genres, and generations to follow – including former Beatles themselves. We know no one else that has produced as deep and rich a catalog as they did. And as you’ll hear below, their juice continues to affect Millennials and beyond. It’s like The Beatles aren’t a part of culture, they are a world culture unto themselves (as was described in the recent Yesterday film).

Interesting to note that when attempts are made to embody or parody their sound, it always seems a particular period is targeted —somewhere in the Revolver to Magical Mystery Tour period – 1966-1967. In terms of iconography, this may be them at their most Beatlesesque.

It’s a period hard not to love.

George Harrison, When We Was Fab (1987):  Produced by Jeff Lynne who may’ve, more than anyone, a PhD. in Beatles sponging—he’d later get the opportunity to hone his mastery at the very feet of the surviving band members themselves. He’d produce work by George, Paul, and Ringo individually and was brought in by George to work on the two new songs that would end up on The Anthology records, Free as a Bird and Real Love. (Lynne was also a Traveling Wilbury.) Plus, as you’ll l note below, Lynne began his career in a tribute band – ELO was originally conceived to recreate the sound of Sgt. Pepper.

While Lynne’s fingerprints are all over When We Was Fab, it’s still one of the best Harrison songs in many, many years. The song is like both Beatles’ trompe l’oeil and a pitch perfect parody. Better even than The Rutles, and they were good in their own right. (See below.)



The Knickerbockers, Lies (1966): There were a number of bands fronted by record companies that tried to look and sound like the Fab Four, and all of them are utterly forgotten now. Except for this. This may be the closest attempt of anyone to apeing Fab Four’s sound. It made it to #20 on Billboard’s Hot 100.



Graham Gouldman, Walking with Angels (2006): Gouldman has a history I briefly discuss here.

Like The Beatles, Gouldman was a celebrated songwriter coincidentally during the band’s classic period, 1966-1968, having written hits for many artists. (Gould would also have a hand as co-writer in his band 10cc, and have a finger in most of their hits from the 1970s.) As Angels demonstrates, Gouldman still knows well his way around that vintage sound, especially that lydian sounding signature that platforms the turnaround after he sings “walking with angels.” The song builds into a minor masterpiece. It should’ve made its way onto the radio and become a cultural earworm but, alas, that’s not the world we live in. When was the last time a 60-year-old dude (b. 1946) got a song on the radio? Well, there was Louis Armstrong (What a Wonderful World at age 69), but after that probably never.



Electric Light Orchestra: Mr. Blue Sky (1977) and 10538 Overture (1972): From the outset, ELO was formed emulate the sound of Sgt. Pepper. The sound accessed for 10538 Overture could’ve been squeezed from a budget George Martin orchestration outtake. Mr. Blue Sky, as confectionary as it is – seems modeled more after Maxwell’s Silver Hammer than the classic period. Despite its hyperglycemic index, it still stands as a piece of high craft; credit where it’s due.






The Monkees, The Porpoise Song (1968): Oldsters know that the television show intended to imitate the character of the band from the Richard Lester movies—A Hard Day’s Night and Help—but their sound was never that Beatle-esque. Though, the faux psychedelia from this Carole King and Gerry Goffin song was about as close as it got.



The Knack, Siamese Twins (The Monkey and Me) (1979): For those not alive at the time, the first Knack album was a phenomenon. My Sharona was bigger than Beatles huge – #1 all over the world. If you’re curious, the latter day band – who likely at the time of this video was probably no longer on speaking terms (leader Doug Feiger comes off as a real douche). Producer Mike Chapman – who was a big deal at the time – claimed that Sharona was destined to be massive and this fact was evident long before the song made it to tape. There was magic all over that first album, apart from the bathroom wall misogyny of the lyrics, and singer Doug Feiger’s sometimes creepy delivery (hear him in the above video gush like an incel about landing the actual Sharona as a girlfriend), the band was tight and the musicianship was stellar and in the pocket – especially notable are the drummer and lead guitarist.

On Siamese Twins, the opening guitar melody line, or signature as it’s called, is as Beatlesque as the band got. As much as their indulgent marketing was (note the album’s cover), other than some strong melodies, The Knack was no Beatles, in fact, they were no Badfinger (or even Dave Clark 5). But then, who could be?

Don’t bother with the rest of The Knack’s catalog; the first album was the only one where anything happened and it was a fluke.



The Jam, Start! (1980): Half of the song’s DNA is Taxman. The other half is makes it worthy of it’s thievery. The Jam did borrow a lot from the Mersey Beat sound of the mid- and late 60s, and cracked up the tempos a bit, but they were generally regarded as more than retro. Later, they’d abandon their Mersey roots for a more Northern soul sound. This may be the best argument for sharing musical DNA as you’ll ever find. Start! works.



The Rutles, Cheese and Onions (1978): If you don’t know, The Rutles was a televeision movie parody of The Beatles history by Monty Python alumnus Eric Idle. (George Harrison even makes an appearance as a journalist. George would also help fund Life of Brian.) Musician Neil Innes had worked with Monty Python in the early 70s – one of only two non-Python people to get a writing credit on their show –and was even in a band, GRIMMS, with Paul McCartney’s younger brother, Mike McGear. Idle would engage Innes to write Beatlesque songs for the show and unlike most of what else you’ll hear in this post, Innes tried to pattern his parodies on actual Beatle’s songs.

The songs were fun but wouldn’t have much use outside of the purposes of the show.




Emitt Rhodes; Live Till You Die, You Should Be Ashamed, Lullaby, Fresh as a Daisy (1970): He was called “The One-Man Beatles” and like Neil Innes above, was also a contemporary of the band. By the time of Rhodes’ first solo album in 1970, Billboard magazine would call him “one of the finest artists on the music scene today.” One of his songs ended up on The Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack.

Despite all of the huzzahs, musical promise, and dashing good looks, Rhodes never really got to enjoy mainstream success. He was active again in the 2010s and recorded two albums.



The Merry-Go-Round was Rhodes’ band prior to the recording of his eponymous album and, I think, reveals a far more interesting sound; from 1967:



Klaatu, Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft (1976): You’ll be forgiven for not making it to end if you listen to this one. This “Canadian Beatles” did have two distinguishing characteristics, however: They’re the only band on this list (that’s not a Beatle) to have been covered by The Carpenters; and a writer at the time tried to declare that they were the actual Beatles in some sort of disguise. Otherwise, they were little more than Lite FM hacks.




The Lemon Twigs, I Want to Prove to You (2016): And the tradition continues:



Tame Impala, Mind Mischief (2013): Singer Kevin Parker has been accused of sounding like John Lennon by no less than Sean (they toured together). Their “trippy hypnotic” sound seems to have been steeped in The Beatles’ Ravi Shankar period. Though Parker is from Perth Australia, the band is not The Australian Beatles. That title (see below) belongs to the Easybeats (1966).





Licorice Roots Orchestra (Raymond Listen), Cloud Symphonies (1993): It’s interesting to note that what may be generally considered George Harrison’s less than peak period as a songwriter would go on to become his most influential – particularly songs like It’s All Too Much, Only a Northern Song, and Blue Jay Way. George would’ve songs rejected by the band on occasion which probably would’ve made him even more agreeable to see the end of The Beatles. The All Things Must Pass album would be a showcase for some of them.

As far as Licorice Roots Orchestra, I know nothing about them and there’s not much to be found. Dangerous Minds gushed about this record and this may be the internet’s only available source of info on the subject.

With their heads in the cloud...

Paul Gets Mickrolled

The end of the Road:

The Fifth Beatle

Hairy Georgeson

Paperback Writer, unabridged and un-neutered

According to Wiki, the studio version of Paperback Writer was the loudest recording The Beatles had done up to that time. The bass was also turned up in the mix in order to, as John Lennon said, sound more like Wilson Pickett records. But it's the vocals that we care most about: The repeated chorus we first encounter in the song's introduction sounds as if the three voices were double tracked. It's also possible they used vocal triple tracking as they'd done on Because.

But here, they do what they can with just the three.
Note: I've reposted the video. What I posted previously apparently no longer exists. This version appears to be of a lesser quality but you get the idea. The entire Tokyo concert can be seen here. 



An impressive display of skill especially when considering the often lackluster results of other bands who try to ape the complicated arrangements of their recorded versions (Bohemian Rhapsody leaps to mind). It's also a testament to how tight and polished this band could be (even with Paul's errant mike). The dues paid in their early days playing the clubs show well here. They don't even appear to be breaking a sweat: Note how John tries to make George laugh. Even with the distractions of a screaming audience it takes no toll on the quality of their performance.

Another reminder of the shame that their performance career was so brief. (The Let It Be movie being another glaring example.) The lads had no equals.