George Harrison had a problem in 1970. He was sitting on a mountain of songs that John Lennon and Paul McCartney had basically ignored for years. Imagine being the guy who wrote "Something" and "Here Comes the Sun," but you're still only allowed two tracks per Beatles album. It’s wild to think about now. When the band finally imploded, George didn't just release a record; he opened the floodgates. The result was a triple-disc behemoth that changed how we view solo careers. If you look closely at the all things must pass song list, you aren't just looking at a tracklist. You’re looking at a massive exhale.
It was the first triple album by a single artist. That’s a lot of vinyl. Critics at the time were stunned by the sheer volume of high-quality material Harrison had been hoarding. It wasn't just filler or experimental noise. From the spiritual yearning of "My Sweet Lord" to the Dylan-penned "If Not for You," the record felt like a definitive statement of independence.
The Massive Scale of the All Things Must Pass Song List
The original 1970 release was spread across six sides of vinyl. It’s huge. The first two discs contained the "actual" songs, while the third disc, titled Apple Jam, was exactly what it sounds like: a series of loose, bluesy studio jams. Most people focus on the hits, but the deep cuts are where the real texture lies.
Take "Isn't It a Pity." There are actually two versions on the album. Why? Because George felt the song deserved to be heard in different emotional contexts. One is sprawling and orchestral, while the other is more intimate. It’s that kind of creative freedom that makes the all things must pass song list so fascinating. He wasn't checking with a producer to see if a song was "too long" or "too repetitive." He was the boss.
The lineup of musicians was also staggering. You had Eric Clapton, Ringo Starr, Billy Preston, and a young Phil Collins (who famously played congas on "Art of Dying" but was left off the original credits). Even the band Badfinger showed up to provide acoustic guitar layers. This wasn't a solo album in the lonely sense; it was a communal celebration.
Side One: Setting the Spiritual Tone
The record kicks off with "I'd Have You Anytime," a co-write with Bob Dylan. It’s slow, deliberate, and incredibly warm. It tells the listener immediately: this isn't a Beatles record. Then, bam. "My Sweet Lord." We all know the story with the "He's So Fine" lawsuit, but legally speaking, it remains one of the most recognizable melodies in pop history.
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Harrison’s slide guitar work here is his signature. It’s vocal. It sings. You can tell he’d been practicing his specific bottleneck style away from the prying eyes of the Fab Four. Then you get "Wah-Wah." Honestly, if you want to know how George felt about the Let It Be film sessions, listen to this track. It’s a sonic representation of a headache—but in a good way. It’s dense, loud, and frustrated.
Deep Cuts and the Phil Spector "Wall of Sound"
Phil Spector produced the album, and his "Wall of Sound" is everywhere. Some people hate it. They think it buries George’s voice under layers of reverb and orchestration. In 2021, for the 50th-anniversary remix, Paul Hicks actually stripped some of that back to let the instruments breathe.
But there’s something about the original muddy grandiosity of "Let It Down" or "What Is Life" that feels right. "What Is Life" is basically the perfect pop song. It has that driving riff that stays in your head for days. On the other end of the spectrum, you have "Beware of Darkness." It’s eerie. It’s a warning against spiritual "grumpiness" and the pitfalls of the material world. Harrison was diving deep into Vedantic philosophy, and he wasn't shy about putting it front and center in his lyrics.
Breaking Down the Apple Jam Sessions
A lot of fans skip the third disc. Don't. While "It's Johnny's Birthday" is a bit of a throwaway (a gift for Lennon), tracks like "Out of the Blue" show the incredible chemistry between these world-class musicians. It’s basically a snapshot of the greatest session players of the 70s just letting loose.
- "Plug Me In" – Pure guitar heroics.
- "I Remember Jeep" – A weird, synth-heavy tribute to a dog.
- "Thanks for the Pepperoni" – More blues-rock jamming.
It might feel indulgent, but in the context of the all things must pass song list, it serves a purpose. It shows the joy of making music without the pressure of a three-minute pop single format. Harrison was finally having fun again.
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Why Some Songs Didn’t Make the Final Cut
Harrison had so much material that several tracks were recorded but left in the vaults for decades. "I Me Mine" ended up on the Beatles' Let It Be, but he had plenty of others. "All Things Must Pass" itself was actually demoed by the Beatles in 1969. There's a bootleg version of them rehearsing it where John Lennon sounds totally disinterested, which is probably why George saved it for himself.
Then you have "Woman Don't You Cry for Me," which didn't see the light of day until his 1976 album Thirty Three & 1/3. He was literally stockpiling hits. It’s a testament to his growth as a songwriter during the late 60s. He went from the "quiet Beatle" to a powerhouse.
The Dylan Connection
Bob Dylan’s influence is all over this record. Not just because of the "If Not for You" cover or the co-writes. It’s the vibe. The rural, "Big Pink" energy that Dylan and The Band were pioneering in Woodstock filtered through Harrison’s English sensibility. "Behind That Locked Door" sounds like a lost country classic. It’s pedal steel heaven.
George visited Dylan in 1968, and that trip seems to have been the catalyst for his songwriting explosion. He realized he didn't need to compete with Paul’s "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da." He could just write honest, soul-searching music.
The 50th Anniversary Expansion
If you really want to dive into the all things must pass song list, the 2021 Uber Box Set is the way to go. It includes dozens of demos and outtakes. You can hear "Going Down to Golders Green," a weird Elvis-style parody, and early acoustic versions of almost every track.
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Hearing "Run of the Mill" as just George and an acoustic guitar is a religious experience. You realize the songs were strong enough to stand on their own even without Spector’s massive production. The lyrics are pointed—likely directed at his former bandmates—but the delivery is gentle. It’s that duality that keeps people coming back to this album 50 years later.
Tracking the Essentials
- The Big Hits: "My Sweet Lord," "What Is Life," "Isn't It a Pity."
- The Spiritual Core: "All Things Must Pass," "Beware of Darkness," "Hear Me Lord."
- The Rockers: "Wah-Wah," "Art of Dying," "Awaiting on You All."
- The Curiosities: "Apple Scruffs" (a tribute to the fans who hung out outside Abbey Road).
"Apple Scruffs" is particularly charming because it features George on harmonica, sounding very much like Freewheelin' era Dylan. It’s a rare moment of lightheartedness on an album that often feels very heavy and profound.
Actionable Steps for the Modern Listener
To truly appreciate this masterpiece, don't just shuffle it on Spotify. The sequence matters.
- Listen to the 2021 Remix first: It clears the "fog" of the original production and lets you hear the individual performances by Ringo and Clapton.
- Read the lyrics while listening to "Hear Me Lord": It’s essentially a prayer set to rock music. Understanding the Vedic context adds layers to the experience.
- Compare the "All Things Must Pass" demo to the studio version: Notice how the brass section and the backing vocals elevate the song from a folk tune to an anthem of impermanence.
- Watch the "Gimme Some Truth" style footage: If you can find the sessions footage or the Living in the Material World documentary by Martin Scorsese, watch the segments on this album. Seeing George in his element at Friar Park explains the atmosphere of the record.
This album wasn't just a collection of songs; it was a purging of years of suppressed talent. When you look at the all things must pass song list, you’re seeing the birth of the 1970s singer-songwriter movement. It proved that there was life after the Beatles, and for a brief moment, the "third songwriter" was actually the most relevant one in the room. Enjoy the sprawl. It’s meant to be lived in, not just heard.