It’s 1973. The Beatles have been gone for three years, but their ghost is everywhere. George Harrison, the guy everyone called the "Quiet Beatle," is sitting in a massive Victorian neo-Gothic mansion called Friar Park. He’s surrounded by 120 rooms, 30-plus acres of gardens, and a level of fame that would crush most people. He's rich. He's successful. And honestly, he’s kind of miserable about it. This is the headspace that gave us Living in the Material World George Harrison, an album that feels less like a rock record and more like a public prayer or a mid-life crisis set to a slide guitar.
Most people think of All Things Must Pass as George's peak. It was huge. It had "My Sweet Lord." It had three discs. But if you really want to understand who George was—the man who loved fast cars and expensive things but also wanted to transcend his own ego—you have to look at Living in the Material World. It’s a weird, beautiful, and sometimes grumpy record. It captures a man trying to be a saint while living in a palace.
The Massive Shadow of 1970
To understand why this album sounds the way it does, we have to look at what happened right before. All Things Must Pass was a monster. It proved George had a backlog of songs that Lennon and McCartney had been ignoring for years. Then came the Concert for Bangladesh. George basically invented the modern charity mega-concert. He was at the top of the mountain.
But by 1972, the pressure was cooking him. He was dealing with a messy legal divorce from the Beatles' business affairs. His marriage to Pattie Boyd was hitting the rocks (partly because his friend Eric Clapton was madly in love with her). He was exhausted. So, he went into the studio to record Living in the Material World George Harrison with a much smaller group of people than the Phil Spector "Wall of Sound" circus he used before. He wanted something intimate. He wanted to talk to God, but he also wanted to complain about his taxes.
It’s that contradiction that makes the album so human. He wasn't just some enlightened guru floating on a cloud. He was a guy who knew exactly how much the "material world" sucked, even though he was winning at it.
Stripping Away the Wall of Sound
If All Things Must Pass was a cathedral, Living in the Material World is a small, quiet chapel. George decided to produce it himself (with some help from Phil McDonald). He ditched the dozens of acoustic guitars layered on top of each other. Instead, he leaned on a core group of incredible musicians: Nicky Hopkins on piano, Klaus Voormann on bass, and Jim Keltner or Ringo Starr on drums.
The result? You can actually hear the space in the room. You can hear the slide guitar—which George had perfected by this point—crying in a way that feels incredibly personal.
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Take a song like "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth)." It’s the hit. It’s catchy. But listen to that slide solo. It’s melodic, precise, and completely devoid of blues cliches. It’s George’s signature sound. He wasn't trying to be Jimmy Page. He was trying to make his guitar sound like a human voice.
The Lyrics: A Tug-of-War
The title track itself is a fascinating bit of autobiography. George literally lists his friends: "Met them all here in the material world / John and Paul here in the material world." He’s acknowledging his past while trying to shove it away.
There's a lot of talk about "Maya"—the Hindu concept of illusion. George was obsessed with the idea that everything we see, touch, and buy is just a distraction from the soul. But then he follows it up with songs like "Sue Me, Sue You Blues." This song is a direct, biting commentary on the endless lawsuits following the Beatles' breakup.
"Bring your lawyer and I'll bring mine / Get together and we could have a bad time."
It’s hilarious. It’s bitter. It’s incredibly relatable for anyone who’s ever had to deal with bureaucracy or toxic coworkers. It shows that George wasn't always "peace and love." He was frustrated. He felt trapped by his own success.
The Critics Weren't Always Kind
When the album came out in May 1973, it sold like crazy. It hit number one. But the critics? They started to get a little annoyed. Rolling Stone's Stephen Holden called it "a devotional album" and suggested George was becoming a bit of a preacher.
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There’s a valid point there. George could be preachy. Songs like "The Light That Has Lighted the World" or "The Lord Loves a One That Loves the Lord" don't leave much room for interpretation. He’s telling you how it is. If you aren't in the mood for a sermon, it can feel a bit heavy.
But looking back fifty years later, that sincerity is actually refreshing. In a world of PR-managed stars, George was just blurting out his spiritual anxieties. He wasn't pretending to be a party animal. He was a guy in his early 30s wondering if there was more to life than being a former Beatle.
The Production Quality and the 50th Anniversary
Recently, we got the 50th-anniversary reissue of Living in the Material World George Harrison, and honestly, it changes the conversation. The new mixes by Paul Hicks bring a clarity that the original vinyl sometimes lacked. You can hear the richness of Nicky Hopkins' piano work. Hopkins was the secret weapon of 70s rock, playing with the Stones and The Who, but his work here is some of his most delicate.
The outtakes are where the real gems live. Hearing George work through the arrangements shows how disciplined he was. He wasn't just "vibing" in the studio. He was a craftsman. He labored over those slide parts. He wanted every note to mean something.
Key Tracks You Shouldn't Skip
- The Light That Has Lighted the World: This might be one of George’s best vocals. It’s a defense of his right to change. He’s basically telling the public, "I’m not the guy you knew in 1964 anymore. Get over it."
- Don't Let Me Wait Too Long: This is the great "lost" pop hit. It’s upbeat, driving, and has a classic Beatles-esque hook. Why it wasn't a single back then is one of rock history's little mysteries.
- The Art of Dying: Wait, that’s from the previous album. My bad. Let’s talk about Be Here Now. It’s based on the book by Ram Dass. It’s a drone-heavy, meditative track that sounds like a precursor to ambient music. It’s weird and haunting.
- The Day the World Gets 'Round: A heavy, orchestral plea for world peace. It’s George at his most earnest.
The Legacy: More Than Just a Follow-Up
People often treat this album as "All Things Must Pass Lite." That’s a mistake. It’s a different beast entirely. It’s a record about the struggle of living a spiritual life when you have a billion dollars and a Ferrari.
It’s also an important document of the 1970s. The decade started with the hippie dream dying, and this album is George trying to figure out what comes next. If the 60s were about "we," the 70s were about "me"—and George was trying to find a "me" that wasn't selfish.
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He eventually found a balance. He got into film production with HandMade Films. He joined the Traveling Wilburys. He gardened. But in 1973, he was still in the thick of it. He was still trying to figure out how to be George Harrison without letting the world own him.
How to Listen to Living in the Material World Today
If you’re coming to this album for the first time, don't expect Sgt. Pepper. Expect a conversation.
- Listen on headphones. The interplay between the acoustic guitars and the piano is subtle.
- Don't ignore the lyrics. Even the grumpy parts. They tell a story of a man trying to be honest with himself.
- Pay attention to the rhythm section. Keltner and Voormann provide a "pocket" that is incredibly deep. It’s not flashy, but it’s perfect.
Actionable Insights for Fans and Collectors
If you're looking to dive deeper into the world of George's 1973 era, there are a few things you should do to get the full experience.
Grab the 50th Anniversary Box Set
If you have the budget, the deluxe version is worth it for the book alone. It features archival photos and notes that explain the chaotic state of George's life during the recording sessions. It provides context that the music alone can't give you.
Compare the Remixes
Listen to the 1973 original mix and then the 2024 remix. The difference in the low-end (bass and drums) is massive. The new version feels much more modern and less "muddy," which helps the spiritual themes feel more immediate.
Watch the Scorsese Documentary
Martin Scorsese’s documentary, also titled Living in the Material World, is the perfect companion piece. It uses the title of this album as a framework for George’s entire life. Watching the footage of George in the early 70s helps you see the "material" weight he was carrying while trying to write these songs.
Explore the Side Projects
During this same period, George was producing albums for people like Ravi Shankar and Splinter. Checking out The Place I Love by Splinter gives you a sense of the production style George was obsessed with at the time—clean, melodic, and very much centered on the "Harrison sound."
George Harrison didn't want to be a pop star forever. He wanted to be a gardener who occasionally made music. Living in the Material World George Harrison is the sound of that transition. It’s the sound of a man closing one door and trying to find the key to another. It isn't always perfect, but it is always real. And in a material world, that’s about as much as you can ask for.