MLords and MLadies, we lay a sad riff, in a very minor key, on the music stand in front of Thee. George Harrison, the cat who shinied brightly even in the huge shadow of the monster chart gasser Lennon-McCartney, has swooped the sphere.
Lord Buckley was Harrisons favorite comic. He based his song Crackerbox Palace on a conversation he had with Buckleys manager George Grief about one of His Lordships threadbare, but regal, pads.
Harrison stomped through the 60s flipping us upside down more than once with his guitar and voice (and who ever would have dug HRH Ravi Shankar if not for swingin George Harrison?) He wailed through the 70s, recording a mountain of original songs, bringing the plight of the poor cats and kitties in Bangladesh to the spotlight section of our ignorant wigs and producing the films Time Bandits and Life of Brian. In 1989 he was part of the Traveling Wilbury's, a group which included Bob Dylan, Roy Orbision, Tom Petty, and Jeff Lynn. And through the swirl of his life, and the yoke of fame, the shy musician found solice and peace in the great rosy rockin' chair panorama of Krishna. He survived throat cancer in 1998, a wig freak attack in 1999 and looked set to swing into the key of rockin' granddaddy until fate took it's cut at 1:30 PM Pacific time on Thursday, November 29, 2001.