George Harrison, Living in the Material World (50th Anniversary)

George Harrison's second proper solo album gets an expanded edition featuring a disc of unreleased alternate takes.

Just as Living in the Material World threatens to get underway, George Harrison unleashes "Sue Me, Sue You Blues," a song that captures the state of Beatledom in 1973. During those early years of the 1970s, the Fab Four were embroiled in litigation thanks to Paul McCartney opposing his three bandmates, a stance spurred by their decision to bring Allen Klein aboard as the group's manager.

Harrison turned sour on Klein in the aftermath of The Concert for Bangladesh, the star-studded event that minted the blueprint for rock charity concerts in 1971. Klein neglected to follow tax-deductible guidelines and perhaps funneled some funds into his personal accounts, behavior that led Harrison to disengage from the manager that severed the alliance between Beatles. Very little of this spurred "Sue Me, Sue You Blues." It was a song inspired by McCartney's quest to officially disband the Beatles, a process that consumed the quartet in the early '70s even as they each attempted to establish themselves as viable solo acts. 

Success came to each of the Beatles in the aftermath of their split but in 1973 Harrison may have been the biggest star of the four. Other Beatles racked up more Top Ten hits—Ringo Starr did particularly well in this period, breaking into the Top Ten with "It Don't Come Easy," "Back Off Boogaloo," and "Photograph," each a contender for the best post-Beatles single—but Harrison's influence extended far beyond his chart placement. George could rally the rock troops in a way John Lennon couldn't—he got Dylan to play The Concert for Bangladesh in a period when Bob avoided the stage—and he carried a credibility McCartney simply didn't during those early days of Wings.

All this meant that when Living in the Material World appeared in May 1973, George Harrison's star burned brighter than his fellow Beatles. It was the first time this happened but not the last. About 15 years later, he teamed with Jeff Lynne—the leader of Electric Light Orchestra who was perhaps the biggest acolyte of latter-day Beatles in the pop mainstream during the 1970s—for Cloud Nine and the Traveling Wilburys, one of the most remarkable comebacks in rock history.

Living in the Material World happens to be the album that set in motion the need for a Harrison comeback. He made plenty of good records and had some hits in the back half of the 1970s—I'm especially fond of "Blow Away" and its accompanying 1979 album George Harrison—but within 18 months from the release of Living the Material World, George became something of a laughing stock, his diminished status accelerated by the muddled 1974 album Dark Horse and its disastrous supporting tour. Robert Christgau notoriously called Harrison a "hoarse dork" in his capsule review of Dark Horse, a cruel but not inaccurate assessment. George really did sound rough during this period, detached from his songs and music itself. 

At no point on Living in the Material World does Harrison seem as if he's unengaged. If anything, the record suffers from an overdose of sincerity. A good portion of the album is devoted to songs about spirituality, tunes delivered from the perspective of a preacher; he's not attempting to persuade, he's proselytizing about virtue. All this would've been fine if Living In The Material World was lively but it rarely is. There are times when Harrison seems conscious of an audience, sweetening his message with vocal harmonies, slide guitars, and soulful grooves, the building blocks of radio hits. All that energy coalesces on "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth)," a plea for understanding whose message is appealingly diluted by its gloss. A few other tracks follow this template—the title track is a superstar jam in waiting, "Try Some, Buy Some" is at the precipice of pop—but generally the album floats upon its own self-regard, a reflection of how Harrison spends his time exploring the outer reaches of his psyche, if not his musical range. He eventually settles into a slow sway where he can reflect and scold in equal measure.

The stillness of Living in the Material World does make it a good candidate for the kind of commemorative edition it receives this week in a 50th Anniversary Deluxe Edition arriving a year after its actual anniversary. The bonus album added to the proper record is heavy on acoustic versions and unvarnished alternate takes that strip away the AM radio concessions of the original set. It's a collection that retains its focus on Harrison's spiritual quest, a theme that's not exactly hidden on the released record. In some respects, the unadorned version heard on the bonus disc reflects Harrison's intent better than the original record, which often does feel encumbered by its slick veneer. 

The rawer version of Living in the Material World isn't necessarily better. Most of the bonus material consists of subtly different alternate takes capturing Harrison exploring his limited sonic possibilities, and the songs that were subjected to ornate arrangements do seem diminished without the candied overdubs. That aural sweetening is instrumental to the record's appeal. "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)"—his third Billboard Top Ten and his last until "Got My Mind Set On You" in 1987—gets its shimmer through harmonies, pianos, and slide guitars that position it to the left of Badfinger. The acoustic version on the bonus disc strips away all the AM radio accouterments and the song seems smaller; the pill is easier to swallow when it's drenched in sugar. 

Sugar is in short supply on Living in the Material World. "Sue You Me, Sue You Blues" thrums to a slick swing, while "Don't Let Me Wait Too Long" has the slightest sunny propulsion in its layers of strummed acoustic guitars. Apart from that, the album wallows in its introspection, the middle-tempo melancholy sometimes given shape by melody but often drifting into a netherworld where the empathetic intent gets diluted by the execution: "Be Here Now" drifts as Harrison searches for the meaning in microtones. 

Harrison's conscious avoidance of pop on Living in the Material World is by the bonus album that concludes with a pair of charming throwaways. Originally released as a B-side, "Miss O'Dell" has a ramshackle spirit that pushes its humor to the forefront, while "Sunshine Life for Me (Sail Away Raymond)"—a number given away to Ringo Starr on his peerless Ringo LP—illustrates that Harrison hadn't lost his liveliness or sense of humor. Living in the Material World would've benefitted greatly by an infusion of this cheerfulness.