Guitar George Page 5

After that (and five years out of action), it's no wonder that Cloud Nine (1987) was perceived as a return to form. Co-producer Jeff Lynne deserves credit for helping George seem lit up again - but he did it via the latter-day sound of his own former band, the Electric Light Orchestra. Accordingly, "This Is Love" is chunka-chunka ELO, "Just for Today" is piano-ballad ELO, and "When We Was Fab," though fun, is George doing ELO doing the Beatles. The title song sounds a lot looser as played by Eric Clapton's band on George's Live in Japan (1992), a set that includes some fine work from both guitarists. Yes, Cloud Nine is a jaunty affair, but its best moment is a cover, the rip-roaring "Got My Mind Set on You," which blasts out of this album the same way it did over the airwaves on its way to No. 1.

George had one more true comeback in him - as a member of the Traveling Wilburys with Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, and Lynne, who casually joined forces in 1988 for Vol. 1. George's contributions - "Handle with Care," "Heading for the Light," "End of the Line" - are among his most effortlessly engaging moments, and his slide guitar makes a dramatic return. It's even more dramatic two years later on the band's second set, which, in another nod to the Pythons, is called Vol. 3. By this time, Orbison had died, but the survivors cranked up the sound and rummaged joyously through their influences. And they went out doing the "Wilbury Twist."

George was completing a new solo album at the time of his death, but he ultimately went out singing "Horse to the Water," which he co-wrote with his son, Dhani, and recorded in October for Jools Holland's Big Band Rhythm & Blues. George sings: "A preacher out there warned me about Satan / I said, 'Hey, man, let's hear about God-realization, for a change' / He said, 'We don't got time for that / First, you must hear of the evils of fornication.' " And George lists the song publisher not as "Harrisongs" but as "R.I.P. Limited 2001."

After I laugh with George, I like to remember that this self-described Dark Horse finally did go to the water and drink long: his ashes were scattered on India's sacred Ganges River.

In his tribute in The Village Voice, Ed Park wrote: "At Strawberry Fields in Central Park last Friday night, there was the inevitable sing-along, under a bright moon and with small leaves falling slow as snow. . . . This ritual will happen twice again, little hedges against oblivion, before it all becomes the music of ghosts."

Still, we may be able to transcend oblivion, as George Harrison believed. As he wrote in his book I Me Mine, "Funny how people say, 'You've only one life, Squire.' I've given up saying, 'You've got as many as you like, and more.' But it's true. . . . Those people who you know much more easily or more quickly are people you've known in other lives."

So, when you get to your next life, if you happen to come across a boy who, in the shadow of his boisterous friends, is quietly trying to learn a chord or two . . . remember to give him a bit of encouragement. "Ah, rock on, lad, one time for me."

Thanks to Mike Mettler for his research assistance on this story.


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