George Harrison
Living in the Material World [50th Anniversary Super Deluxe]
DARK HORSE/BMG
You’re a Beatle whose true debut as a songwriter and solo recording artist was the triple-album epic All Things Must Pass. What do you do for an encore? If you’re George Harrison, you scale back the churchy sonic feel and massive guest list that accompanied that debut and ratchet up the lyrical religiosity throughout—though not to the exclusion of romance and absurdity. You find a honed, focused, sinewy musicality and get by with far fewer friends (Ringo, Nicky Hopkins, Gary Wright, Klaus Voormann, Zakir Hussain, and Jim Keltner) than before. You write direct, soulful pop songs such as “Try Some, Buy Some,” remake the traditions of your youth with “Sue Me, Sue You Blues,” and craft music capable of flight with “Don’t Let Me Wait Too Long.” You make an album so potent that one day, when Martin Scorsese does a film on your life, he titles it after this collection: Living in the Material World.
All that and you’d think that Harrison’s 1973 album would forever sail on of its own merit and power. Yet since its release, Living has had its critical ups and downs, fighting for lasting respectability. Re-produced and given a deeply fluid overall bass line with help from musician-son Dhani and curatorial elements from poet-wife Olivia, this 50th anniversary collection, then, allows the record to breathe easier. Beyond this gutsier mix (the original production by George didn’t always leap from the vinyl as this new mix does), the inclusion of a tender-toned full album of alternate versions such as a gently weeping, conversational take on “Try Some, Buy Some,” happily raw, acoustic moves on the clever “The Day the World Gets ’Round” and the spirited “Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth),” and a jumpier version of the title track (“Take 31”) are worth the prices of admission alone.
Then there’s the physical-edition-only inclusion of the 7-inch single “Sunshine Life for Me (Sail Away Raymond).” Like his friend Bob Dylan, Harrison was entranced by the rustic, country funk of The Band, and brought Robbie Robertson, Levon Helm, Garth Hudson, and Rick Danko in to hoot through this previously unheard rendition of what’s long been a flightily cool and lightweight song. With The Band and Ringo Starr behind him, Harrison’s “Sunshine Life” is exactly that: sunny, bulkier, even sexy. It isn’t often you get to use that latter word in regard to Harrison’s sound, but this single track, along with the rest of the righteous Living in the Material World, is his true sensualist masterpiece.
