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Music » From The Vault
Joe Taysom
The late George Harrison was many things. On the one hand, he was a genius songwriter capable of going toe-to-toe with even John Lennon and Paul McCartney on his day. Additionally, the things he could do as a guitarist were a gift to the musical format. However, perhaps most importantly, Harrison was a bundle of joy, always looking to crack a joke and lift the people around him.
While Harrison was known for his spirituality, that doesn’t mean he was incapable of having fun and his favourite way of cleansing his soul was through the medium of laughter. Although he’s most revered for the musical magnificence he expressed with The Beatles and throughout his solo career, his comedic mastermind often flew under the radar.
Notably, following the split of The Beatles, Harrison even had a side-line career as a producer of comedy films, including Monty Python’s The Life of Brian, in which he also made a beloved cameo. On the surface, this venture seemed like a millionaire spending their pocket money on a frivolous venture; Harrison remortgaged his house for the sake of the project. His commitment to comedy knew no end, whether through putting his finances through unnecessary strain for the benefit of his favourite funnymen or going above and beyond to pull an extravagant practical joke on his friend, Phil Collins.
Collins had a strong relationship with the late Beatles guitarist, although it initially got off to a rocky start, unbeknownst to Harrison. The seed for his prank on the Genesis drummer began in 1970 when Collins was a teenage session musician who idolised everything Beatles-related and dreamt of following in their footsteps. Therefore, the chance to work with Harrison in the studio was an opportunity he couldn’t quite believe and was a source of immense pride. Even though he was a nervous wreck, this prospect was potentially a life-changing audition, and Collins hoped to grasp it with both hands.
Collins later explained to Classic Rock how the prospect of working with Harrison unexpectedly arose, recalling: “Our manager got a call from Ringo Starr’s chauffeur, who said they needed a percussionist, and he suggested me. So I went down to Abbey Road, and Harrison was there and Ringo and Billy Preston and Klaus Voormann and Phil Spector, and we started routing the song.”
At the time, Harrison was recording his debut solo album, All Things Must Pass. The now-classic record captures the guitarist breaking free from the Fab Four and no longer having to answer to Lennon and McCartney. Harrison had complete creative license to do as he pleased for the first time in his career, and the body of work firmly established him as a solo star.
However, the experience was less enjoyable for Collins, who was unsure of what he was brought in to do, admitting, “No one told me what to play, and every time they started the song, Phil Spector would say, ‘Let’s hear guitar and drums,’ or ‘Let’s hear bass and drums.’ I’m not a conga player, so my hands are starting to bleed. And I’m cadging cigarettes off Ringo – I don’t even smoke; I just felt nervous. Anyway, after about two hours of this, Phil Spector says, ‘Okay, congas, you play this time.’ And I’d had my mic off, so everybody laughed, but my hands were shot.”
Collins continued: “After that, they all disappeared – someone said they were watching TV or something – and I was told I could go. A few months later, I buy the album from my local record shop, look at the sleeve notes, and I’m not there. And I’m thinking, ‘There must be some mistake!’ But it’s a different version of the song, and I’m not on it.”
However, that’s just the start of this story and the background context for the events that later unfolded. Once Collins became a world-famous star in his own right, he and Harrison were back in contact. “Cut to years later,” Collins added. “I bought [former F1 driver] Jackie Stewart’s house. Harrison was a friend of Jackie’s, and Jackie told me George was remixing All Things Must Pass.”
As Collins was omitted from the mastered version of the record, All Things Must Pass remained a source of sadness for him. Therefore, he coyly replied, “‘Well, I was there’,” when Stewart asked about his involvement on the LP. Nevertheless, despite Collins’ minimal contribution, word spread to Harrison, who saw an opportunity to make his friend’s heart sink. The Genesis frontman explained: Two days later a tape’s delivered from George Harrison with a note saying: ‘Could this be you? Suddenly, the congas come in – too loud and just awful. At the end of the tape, you hear George Harrison saying, ‘Hey, Phil, can we try another without the conga player?'”
Collins elaborated: “So now I know, they didn’t go off to watch TV, they went somewhere and said, ‘Get rid of him,’ cos I was playing so badly. Then Jackie rings and says, ‘I’ve got someone here to speak to you,’ and puts George on and he says, ‘Did you get the tape?’ and I said, ‘I now realise I was fired by a Beatle.'”
Thankfully, Collins soon discovered the true version of events, as he revealed, “He says, ‘Don’t worry, it was a piss-take. I got Ray Cooper to play really badly, and we dubbed it on. Thought you’d like it!’ I said, ‘You fucking bastard!'” However, with the benefit of hindsight, Collins appreciates the funny side, adding, “It was lovely, wasn’t it?”
That’s right; Harrison went out of his way to pay a whole band to spend a day in the studio solely to make a joke at Collins’ expense. His commitment to this prank provides an insight into Harrison’s cheeky character and acts as a beautiful snapshot of what he was like behind the curtain.
Although Collins missed out on getting to say that he played on All Things Must Pass, the dedication to the cause that Harrison showed in making those tapes more than makes up for getting cut from the album. While this stunt likely cost Harrison several hours and thousands of pounds, he was worth it for the immense payoff.
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George HarrisonPhil Collins