Jorma Kaukonen on George Harrison
When the Beatles exploded into the American and world music scene back in the
early Sixties, I had totally immersed myself in traditional music and had
eschewed all things vaguely electric or 'popular.' When I think about what a
stuffed shirt I was then I really have to laugh today. Anyway, my friend
Steve Mann came up from L.A. to visit me in Santa Clara and convinced me
that one of the sugar cubes he had in his pocket would really open my world
as a musician. Steve was such an innovative musician and so far ahead of his
time that I accepted his recommendation as gospel and we each ate one. Well,
needless to say I was totally unprepared for what followed and at some point
a couple of hours later we had to go for a ride with a friend in a borrowed
VW. We're driving somewhere on Highway 101 near Sunnyvale, California and a
semi pulls up behind me filling the rear window with it's bumper and grill.
Now, in retrospect, we were probably only going 20 miles an hour in rush hour
but still it really scared the shit out of me. As I was contemplating my
impending death and possibly the end of the world, we turned on the radio and
as the tubes warmed up (remember tubes in car radios) the first thing I heard
was George's solo in 'She's A Woman' and it changed my life! Not only did it
get me through that moment of fear on the freeway, but it opened my eyes to
more things than I can enumerate here. It prepared me to be, at least
moderately, open to Paul Kantner's suggestion that I join some band that he
was forming up in San Francisco. In that moment, the electric guitar became
a real instrument for me again.
I met George once a long time ago... I do not even remember when. I did not
know him but of course as a man of my time I was always interested in what he
was up to. He was immensely successful, but he and his family suffered all
the things that can afflict 'normal' mortals. As I grew older, I came to
appreciate more and more the huge contribution that he and his friends made
to our world. I know that he had been ill for some time. As one who lives
in some small way in the public eye, I admired the way he handled his
privacy... the way he loved his family. I know that he is in a better place.
(I always say that when someone dies, but I believe it.) He is all right now
and my prayers are with his family.
I thank George for helping to open my heart!
For Immediate Release
Contact: Keith Putney 650-324-3563
kputney@aol.com
Compact Disc Land presents
A Celebration of the life of George Harrison
featuring the music of George Harrison and the Beatles
Appearing in concert, playing the music of George and the Beatles:
The New Moondogs with special guest Cyril Jordan...
of the Flamin' Groovies, of course!
Where: Compact Disc Land
477 University Avenue
Palo Alto
650-324-3563
When: Sunday Dec. 16
First set-acoustic @5:00 p.m.
Second set-electric @7:30 p.m.
Admission: Free
Please bring canned food donations for the Second Harvest food bank
After George Harrison passed away, people continually asked me if I
knew of any kind of celebration of what George Harrison did, what he
meant to us and whathe gave us. I refrain from using the term memorial
or tribute, only because what he did should truly be celebrated. For
anyone who wants to, Sunday will be a nice moment to do that-celebrate
the gifts we received from George Harrison.
The Flamin' Groovies were a Bay Area institution from 1966 through to
1990, and they wore their Beatles influences on their sleeves; the
Groovies included 3 Beatles tracks on their lp's during their Sire
Records period. So no Bay Area person is more appropriate to help us
in our appreciation of George than Cyril Jordan, guitarist, songwriter
and vocalist for the Flamin' Groovies. Cyril will be joining the New
Moondogs- for Beatles fans, an update of the name of an early
incarnation of the Beatles, the Moondogs. The New Moondogs include Bob
Vickers, formerly of the Orange Peels, switching between lead and
rhythm guitar as well as lead and backing vocal duties. Expect guests
from the Syndicate of Sound and Chocolate Watchband to drop by for a
song or two as well.
WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 19 2001
THE RENSE RETORT, by Rip Rense
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Meeting George
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WorldNetDaily News Archives: Rip Rense
The first time I saw George Harrison was in 1979, in Burbank, Calif.
There was a little press conference at Warner Brothers Records for the
release of his lovely eponymous album, and I was one of about 30 reporters
present, clustered around in a half circle on the floor.
He had walked in with a cane, the result of a gardening accident, and
remarked that no one had touched the small mountain of scones on a nearby
table, or helped themselves to tea. Scones and tea? Everyone was far too
amazed to eat. He was, after all, one of them.
Harrison answered the usual array of silly questions, and was patient,
self-deprecating, soft-spoken, even kindly. When a young woman reporter
asked, wide-eyed and breathless, "George, what are you trying to teach us,"
he chuckled and muttered, "I guess I'm looking for somebody to teach me a few
things."
It was jarring, to say the least, looking into that face that I'd seen so
many times, hearing that voice that I'd heard so many times, singing words
that I'd long since committed to memory. Yet, there he was, disarming and
down-to-earth, asking, in all sincerity, why people hadn't enjoyed the free
scones.
Oddly, no one followed up on the breathless reporter's question - so I did,
on the way out. I pushed through the mass of microphone-sprouting arms,
sidled up beside him and said, "You said you're looking for someone to teach
you a few things - like what?" Harrison's answer was deadpan, but had a ring
of truth:
"Like how to stop smoking."
How sadly prophetic those words now seem, since he has fallen victim to lung
cancer.
The second time I encountered Harrison was in 1987, when he was promoting his
album, "Cloud Nine," also at Warner Records in Burbank. This time, I had a
little over an hour with him - alone. As a dedicated appreciator of his music
and words, this was unimaginable.
I have never prepared more for an interview - and I don't mean research. None
was required. What I needed to do was wrench and pry myself into "work" mode,
and squelch all gawking - else I would have simply babbled. (A lot of
reporters in my generation have this same problem.)
Yet Harrison put me at quickly at ease, and spoke at thoughtful length in
response to every question. He'd probably done a dozen interviews since
morning, so perhaps he was recycling. Yet, when I read other articles from
interviews conducted the same day, the answers were very different. The man
had not merely repeated himself from reporter to reporter.
One question I remember asking was about the exquisitely affecting guitar
solo on "Something," and where it had come from. He laughed, and joked:
"Oh, I guess I must have smoked something."
Of course, it turns out that whether he smoked something or not, he had
worked diligently on that solo (as he did crafting all of his music.) It had
grown out of a discarded vocal bridge in the song, and had been honed
artfully over days before he executed it during a live orchestral overdub, in
order to invest it with as much feeling as possible. That's the kind of
musician he was.
The last time I saw Harrison was in March of 2000. I went out to buy a new
pair of shoes, one Wednesday, at the Santa Monica Place mall. It was around
1:30 in the afternoon, and almost empty, as I stepped onto an escalator
behind two guys. I rode up one flight and turned for the next level, when
something peripherally caught my eye. One of the two guys in front had a
familiar profile, hidden by sunglasses, but was it? I looked again.
Then I heard an unmistakable voice speaking one word, "OK."
It was George, all right. He looked good. His hair was about early Beatles
length, and salt-and-pepper. Seeing as he'd been fighting cancer, and had
nearly been stabbed to death by a lunatic just three months earlier, I was
floored. I was doubly floored by the fact that I'd run into him. What were
the chances of crossing paths with the guy? Especially when all the press
reports had him in seclusion, recovering from his near fatal assault? The
cosmic cliche came to mind: Was this meant to be?
I had a proper excuse for saying hello, seeing as I'd interviewed him twice -
once for a cover story in a prominent music magazine. And there was nothing I
wanted to do more than introduce myself, tell him how great it was to see him
well, and that I looked forward to new music.
But as I watched him scanning the mall, in search of what turned out to be an
India imports store, I got to thinking that the last thing in the world this
man wanted was to be bothered by a stranger. Especially considering the
horrific intrusion he had just suffered.
The decision came easily.
In that small moment, I gave George Harrison the one thing he most coveted in
day-to-day life: privacy.
What a privilege.
---------------------------------------------------
Rip Rense is a writer and columnist whose work has appeared in many
newspapers and magazines, including the Philadelphia Inquirer, Los Angeles
Times, Chicago Tribune, Emmy Magazine, TV Guide, and Free China Review.
An appreciation from a man who peed with the Quiet One.
By Bill Holdship
George Harrison is probably bemused by all the attention his passing received
in the material world this past week. Most of the tributes have concentrated
on the "quiet Beatle" thing, emphasizing his spirituality, humanitarianism,
subtle-but-brilliant musicianship, and the quiet dignity he always so
beautifully displayed. In retrospect, he may have been the only living ex-
Beatle never to embarrass himself or us. And take it from someone who saw
that much-maligned 1974 tour as a fan, not a critic: It was terrific, much
better than McCartney's first two U.S. tours.
All this concentration on the serious side of his personality, however, often
misses the man's warmth and great sense of humor. I was fortunate enough to
have two encounters with Harrison over the past 15 years, first interviewing
him for Creem magazine in 1987. As a child, I had recurring dreams that the
Beatles actually lived on my street and were playmates (probably a result of
that Saturday morning cartoon series) -- so you can imagine the devastating
impact it would have had, even on an adult, if George Harrison had turned out
to be a dick. And a Beatle could obviously get away with being arrogant. But
Harrison was a total sweetheart, everything you would want a former Beatle to
be -- charming, warm, personable and hilariously funny. In fact, one of my
most vivid memories of that afternoon is his hearty and genuine laugh, always
delivered with a huge twinkle in his eye. "I saved you the big attack on
everybody," he said, before dissing a few folks who deserved it, later adding
"if you put this in the interview, you can say I'm smiling about it. I'm not
letting it depress me."
He strolled into the interview by himself, no entourage or handlers,
immediately acknowledging, without prompting, my co-editor, whom he'd met
more than six months before backstage at the Palace. "See, I told you we'd
make this happen," he grinned.
Harrison had grown very comfortable with his Beatles legacy by this point,
but he still had hilarious stories to tell about Elvis and the Fabs'
psychedelic years, as well as pointed comments to make about Dick Clark, the
music business, and even Madonna, whom he'd recently worked with, producing
Shanghai Surprise, the flop (the only one in Harrison's film-producing
career) she co-starred in with then-husband Sean Penn.
"The thing is, you see, people get famous for a bit, and this is why the
Beatles were good," he said. "We had the four of us -- if one of us would
start to get snooty or bigheaded, we'd just broadside him. But then you have
these other people who get famous and they suddenly start thinking they're
God's gift to mankind. When really all they are is a silly pop star. There's
much more to life than just been a famous pop star. Unfortunately, a lot of
them fall into the trap. They get surrounded by people saying how fab they
are, all these sycophants. You have to see it from the other side, too --
which is that the pressure you're under when you're fab is tremendous. It
sometimes does get you crazy when you can't do anything because everybody's
bugging you and shooting cameras in your face. So I can sympathize from that
point of view, too. But all Madonna needs is 500 milligrams of some good
LSD."
My second experience with Harrison was a bit cruder, but just as telling. It
was at a 1990 record-release party for Ringo Starr at West Hollywood's Bar
One, where a small group of gentlemen were suddenly astonished to find
themselves in line for the men's room with a former Beatles guitarist.
Noticing the fashion trend so popular among the follicle-challenged in the
music biz at that time, George turned to the gent behind him and laughed, "Do
you need a ponytail in this town to take a leak?" To this day, there are
several guys walking around L.A. who still proudly boast that they "peed with
George Harrison!" You just know Axl Rose would have had his thugs clear the
joint, if he'd ever needed to use a public restroom at all.
During that 1987 interview, Harrison talked about Elvis and Lennon as though
they were both spiritually still here. He also addressed death: "Death is
just where your suit falls off and now you're in your other suit. You can't
see it on this level, but it's all right. Don't worry." And he claimed to
absolutely believe in reincarnation, adding that "and half those people [in
the record industry] are going to be reincarnated getting one cent on every
CD they sell, and sell more records than everybody, and then not receive any
of the money."
I loved George Harrison. And I truly believe that those who never got to
experience the Beatles first-hand missed out on what it was to have real
musical and cultural heroes. It's one thing to mourn his death. But what
we're really mourning is the fact that the world was a far better (and
funnier) place when the Beatles were still in it. Harrison himself never
seemed to fear moving on. As his friend Bob Dylan remarked after hearing the
news: "He was like the sun, the flowers, and the moon -- and we will miss him
enormously. The world is a profoundly emptier place without him."
A letter from Natalie Merchant
http://www.nataliemerchant.com
November 30, 2001
Las Vegas, Nevada
Dear Web Site Visitor,
I woke up today to the news that George Harrison had died, that he had lost
the battle he had been fighting against cancer for several years. The sadness
that I feel over his death is very different from the reaction I had when the
news of John Lennon's death was received. Mr. Harrison's passing was natural,
premature, but not so sudden and horrible as Mr. Lennon's murder. The world
has lost a cultural icon, an exceptional musician, a sweet man and with his
death there is powerful realization that time is not standing still for any
of us.
For nearly 40 years we have had the phenomenon of the Beatles with which to
measure the time of our lives, now we will add another member's death as a
sad point of reference. I was born the year that the band released their
first single, I joined my first band the year that John was killed, I'm sure
that I will remember his death today along with other events that it
parallels...waking up in a desert casino to more terrorism and bombing.
Whenever I witness the death of someone or something it is a lesson in the
fragility of life, a reminder of the temporal state of all things. I can only
guess that George Harrison had a deeper understanding of that concept than
most of us. Those of us who listened to his music and vicariously followed
his search for meaning learned a great deal from him. He introduced me to the
musical tradition and philosophy of an exotic culture...India. He staged the
first large scale benefit concert for the starving people of Bangladesh and
started an independent music label to promote artists he admired. He accepted
his wealth and fame with grace and generosity.
I've always thought of George as the secret weapon in the Beatles. His guitar
work and songwriting are both understated as contributions compared to the
titan songwriters Lennon/McCartney. But when I look over the list of his song
credits, it is impressive and contains some of my favorites..."Something",
"If I Needed Someone", "Here Comes The Sun", "While My Guitar Gently Weeps",
"I Need You". We started the show tonight by playing 4 of George's songs and
finished the night with "My Sweet Lord". It was a beautiful way for all of us
in the band to celebrate his life more than to mourn his passing. As long as
people continue to sing his songs he has the promise of immortality.
Take Care,
Natalie