All Things Must Pass

by on April 30, 2023 :: 0 comments

I’m not complaining that they got all the credit. Even the Maharishi nudged next to Paul – and, get this, even HE had stars in his eyes.
They kept me out of their “brainstorming” sessions, though Paul was by far the most antagonistic.
John apologized with his eyes, pleading. We have something special together, George. How can you hold it against me?
Who could argue with success after success? But he never offered to write a song with me – and then the lawyers wrote it into stone – they’d all be Lennon-McCartney songs.
One song per side allowed for me. Taxman, Here Comes the Sun, Something – not bad.
I was always there; my voice can be heard like a bell behind them,
Ringing out from in between the brothers’ Mozart.
And my guitar playing – let’s face it, the only real guitar playing on the great songs.
But I’m not complaining.
At least I got to play with Clapton, Orbison, Dylan, and Petty.
Paul and John played with each other and mostly with themselves. Read that again.
And yeah, maybe a woman came between me and Clapton, but we managed.
We were direct – you know, the whole gestalt thing, the sixties, feelings, speaking your mind, dope, blah blah blah.
And I kept playing, making new music, good music.
I was forever putting the Bhagavad Gita to song; people thought they were romantic love songs.
By the end, I had an entire album piled inside my skull. The songs practically emerged fully formed,
Squeezed out like popped blood vessels.
They were trapped in me, slowly shaping while I endured endless takes of Hey Jude and The Long and Winding Road. You have no idea.
And the White Album? One gigantic ego fest. 30 songs? Honey Pie? Rocky Raccoon?
I had four songs. Some say While My Guitar Gently Weeps is the best one on the album.
I did the concert on the roof,
Wore my fur coat.
I too was almost arrested.
But I went along.
It wasn’t for me.
It was for them and for everyone else.
All things must pass, but the Beatles will last as long as there are ears to hear.
And, you know, I’d do it all over again – Everything, except Hey Jude.

editors note:

Fan channeling. Tell us how you really feel, George. – mh clay

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