George at the Royal Albert Hall

George Harrison gave his last official concert at the Royal Albert Hall on April 6th 1992. It was his first performance in the UK since the Apple Rooftop with the Beatles back in 1969. He had just completed a tour of Japan, and the show was a sell-out. Here, memories of that very special concert are shared by three fans who were in the audience… and one who was on-stage with George!

I remember the day the concert was announced. I saw it on the news that morning and promptly went into college, knowing there was no way I could get a ticket. I spent a lot of that morning sat in our regular corridor (I didn't have a lot of classes then) every now and again getting up to kick a chair in frustration. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and it was slipping by, what was worse there was nothing I could do about it. I don't know why I phoned home, possibly out of sheer frustration but I borrowed ten pence and called my mum. Could I believe what I was hearing…? Stephen had been trying to get in touch with me all day, could I call him. I borrowed some more change and Liverpool. (Perhaps I should point out that at this point Stephen and I had only been going out for around four months.) What did Stephen what me for? He wanted to know if I would like to go to the George Harrison concert! Would I?!? What a dilemma! I had a ticket but I needed to raise the money for the train fare. I had to get home! Before the end of the day I had a substantial pile of stuff to sell to get money.

The train journey there was a definite blur, I remember more about the way back later that night. I do remember walking around the Albert Hall both inside and outside bumping into various pals - all of us still dazed that we were actually going to see George.

The seats were reasonably close, on the side. We knew that there were other people on before George, but we didn't expect the first of these, Gary Moore, to be introduced by the man himself. He's probably one of the only a few people to receive a standing ovation for an introduction. He looked tiny, and a tad shinned at the reception. I'm not sure what he was expecting, but the almost disbelief on his face was similar to that of the members of the audience that they were in his presence. I know I kept expecting to wake up any second to find it was all a dream.

Gary Moore and Joe Welsh were very good, but knew we were there for one person only - George.

It all seems so hazy now, I probably tried to take too much in all at once. I know that getting to hear 'I Want To Tell You' as the opening number let me know that it was going to be an interesting set list. Interesting indeed, hearing songs we never ever thought we'd hear live, but the expected was also there. I think that getting to hear 'Something' played live could well be the highlight of my concert going - past, present and future. I sobbed whole-heartedly on Stephen's shoulder, even drawing concern from people around.

Even now it's hard to believe I was there. Backed largely by Eric Clapton's band, including Andy Fairweather-Lowe and Will Lee - (the latter being no stranger to readers of The Word Is Love as a member of The Fab Faux) - this proved to be an amazing night.

Worried about making the last train home we left before the end of the show. Ringo was on stage and Dhani was just about to join his Dad on stage as we headed for the exit, on the way out bumping into Olivia - whom we thanked for a fantastic night before rushing out of the door and leaping into a cab to the station. The journey home offered a mixture of elation, exhaustion and the beginning of the dreaded post-concert blues. A tired rag-tag band of fans slept fitfully on the train back to Liverpool that night arriving back in the early hours still warm from the memories of an amazing event.

Anne-Marie Trace

"It's Not All It's Cracked Up To Be...." Well, it was, actually. Can it really be almost a decade since George's pre-election party at the Royal Albert Hall? I was studying in Liverpool at the time (1992) and my house was without a phone (mobiles were not the popular and accessible communication medium then that they are now); whilst I had seen the adverts in the press announcing the concert, I felt somewhat 'out-of-the-loop', with most of my 'Beatley' friends (then, as now) dotted around the country. Would anyone else be going? Was it already sold out? Incredibly, by Saturday 4th April (I recall that tickets had gone on sale on the Thursday), it wasn't. As it happened, a couple of friends had been due to visit me in Liverpool that weekend for a gig; Saturday morning one of them called the RAH (from the Beatles Shop, of all places!), in the faint hope that there would be seats left that wouldn't leave us oxygen-deprived. We were in luck: two seats, downstairs arena, at the very back. We were in. Tickets to be collected on Monday as there wasn't time to post them. I should just mention at this point, that George's decision to perform on a Monday night proved somewhat inconvenient for anyone not resident within a 30-mile radius of the Capital. Of my two visiting friends (one from Cardiff, the other from Birmingham), one was forced to 'take a sickie' from work to be able to attend; the other decided that she couldn't 'do the deed' and has regretted it ever since...

By Monday 6th April, Ringo had called a press-conference in London to promote his forthcoming UK shows with his 'All Starr Band'. The adopted Scousers amongst us had been waiting for a date at the Empire Theatre to be announced, so en route to Lime Street Station we took a detour up the street a bit. Yes, tickets were now on sale, we were told. Between the half dozen of us travelling to London that day, we managed to secure the entire front row for Ringo's only Liverpool date on July 6th. Could things get any better?

With some of our number armed with tickets to see TWO Beatles (a rare phenomenon indeed!), we arrived in London just in time to catch the late edition of the London Evening Standard; photos from Ringo's press conference adorned the front page, along with denials that he would be performing at George's show.

Inside the Royal Albert Hall, a huge Natural Law Party banner dangled from the ceiling above the stage. We took our seats to the strains of George Formby, whilst craning our necks celebrity-spotting. We could see Ringo in a box to the back of the arena; Julian Lennon was to our right, in the stalls. Almost without warning the lights dimmed and George (he may have been preceded by a rep from the NLP; my memory deserts me) walked out on stage to introduce Gary Moore. There was a lengthy standing ovation (suitably embarrassed, George instructed us to sit down). Where we were sitting, with a thousand heads in front of us, it was difficult to see much, even on tip-toes. Thankfully, for Gary's and then Joe Walsh's supporting sets, order was restored with everyone keeping their bottoms firmly in their seats.

Though not averse to seeing a good guitarist (or two) do their stuff, Gary and Joe's sets seemed interminable. When the interval arrived it couldn't have come a moment too soon. A lack of ceremony heralded George's entrance: the hall fell black and the riff to 'I Want to Tell You' crept up on our ears, from the bowels of the stage. Everyone stood up (no-one would sit down for the remainder of the show). There was complete pandemonium: screaming, cheering, applause. By the time the intro to 'Old Brown Shoe' had kicked in we decided to abandon our seats and attempt to gain a better vantage point (at 5' 2" I was struggling!). We weren't alone: floods of people had left their seats and poured down the sides of the seated area.

At this point it's probably more useful to record my lingering impressions of the show, instead of a song-by-song review (which you can find elsewhere). George seemed nervous, but happy. Even with the security blanket of his Japan touring outfit (plus, of course, guitarists Mike Campbell and Will Lee) his voice wavered a bit, and he bobbed from foot to foot (like only George did!) paying minimal attention to the guitar strapped across his shoulders (not that he need to; he had good back-up in that dept.) By now we had positioned ourselves just in front of Chuck Leavell on keyboards (stage right) and had a great view.

As history records, George amended the lyrics to both 'Taxman' and 'Piggies' to lend them a topical edge ('ah-ha Mr. Major', etc) and I don't think I was alone in being totally thrown by this! 'What Is Life' proved to be the highlight of the show for me; the entire Albert Hall was enveloped in a feeling of goodwill and fed off the positive vibe of the song. I remember looking around and all I could see were people either smiling or singing. During 'All Those Years Ago' Julian became the focus of attention for people in the audience (even I was guilty of looking to see his reaction). George ended the song with a cry of 'God Bless John Lennon!', which got the cheer it deserved.

With each song, George seemed to gain confidence and was prone to smiling perhaps more than we had any right to expect. And the 'Hi-jack' band sounded great. I really didn't take much notice of any of the individual musicians (they were obviously doing their job well), except for the animated percussionist Ray Cooper whose showmanship, I'll confess, did start to annoy me a bit (only later did I realise, he's like that all the time!) Curious, also, to think that 7 years later I'd end up sharing a lift in the Adelphi with George's bass player....

It wasn't altogether a surprise to hear George introduce 'a blast from all our pasts' for the encore. Looking back, my out-of-focus, totally useless photos reflect the manic reception awaiting Ringo. The applause seemed to go on forever. (If you listen to bootlegs of the show, you can hear George saying 'Get behind your drum kit then!', though we couldn't hear this at the time!) George invited Gary Moore back on stage and the band launched into a storming rendition of 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps'. My abiding memory of this song is George and Gary facing each other during the solo, with George totally into it, egging Gary on. Amazing to watch.

'Roll Over Beethoven' would be the last song of the night. George invited everyone back on stage (including his son Dhani) for an extended rock 'n' roll jam. During the middle of the song Ringo and Ray Cooper launched into a crazed percussion free-for-all, which involved some Status Quo-style call-and-response audience participation. Meanwhile, George sat at the back of the stage sipping from a mug (of herbal tea, perhaps?) I remember trying to attract his attention (as did everyone else along the front!) but he coolly avoided anyone's gaze. While the on-stage revelry continued, we were frantically clock-watching, as the last train back to Liverpool was due to leave around 11.30pm. Thankfully, we were able to see thesong to its conclusion and witness George being showered with garlands from the NLP rep, before hot-footing it to Euston. (We made the train).

With hindsight, it's a pity the success of the Japan tour and the RAH show didn't encourage George to tour more extensively. Writing in 'Live In Japan' in 1993, George hinted that he may be ready to take the plunge after those tentative toes in the water:

"... At this point in time, I feel I may do some more touring - but haven't decided absolutely yet. There is a reasonable chance that the 'Live In Japan' record is only a warm-up for future shows; but one never knows. That could've been it (for this life, anyway)..."

"...The thing I learned by doing the show recently at the Royal Albert Hall was: "Don't believe the press." For years I had the concept that British people weren't really into my music, because the press had for some years written nasty things about it. But that evening everybody was great and when I walked out on stage it was great to realise, "Oh, they like me."..."

Sadly, save for the odd guest appearance here and there, it wasn't to be. In the light of recent events, (I still struggle with the fact that George has actually gone), I find myself clinging all the more to those occasions when I was lucky enough to see that smile and hear that voice for myself. Many reading this magazine will share those times along with me; and for that I know we are all eternally thankful. Bless you George.

Carol-Anne Lennie

I opened the 'Evening News' in March '92 and couldn't believe it.... but there it was.... this advert for The Natural Law Party which read..."April 6th, Royal Albert Hall - George Harrison and friends"...

Although I'd seen Paul in concert many times before, I'd had to get used to the fact that I never WOULD see John...and in truth, at that time...pre 'All Starr Band' days, It was highly unlikely I'd ever see Ringo...and George just didn't play concerts did he? Certainly not in the UK anyway. I bought tickets, knowing the date would cut short a holiday I had committed to.... but it had to be done....this wasn't just a gig...this was GEORGE!!!

My brother Alan and I were big fans, but hard as it is to believe now, during the mid to late 70's and most of the 80's, his profile was at an all-time low. None of his singles or albums made the slightest mark on the charts, and although I bought them religiously, it seemed the rest of the world had forgotten him. I was therefore amazed when 'Cloud 9' enjoyed such great success - deservedly so - and with the 'Wilburys' also doing well in the previous couple of years, as we made our way into The Albert Hall, George's profile hadn't been this big for years.

The concert is well documented. It was wonderful... obviously. Hearing stuff like "Isn't It A Pity", "My Sweet Lord", "Taxman" ...and even "PIGGIES" for God's sake! ...this was an experience none of us dared dream of... and just when it couldn't get any better..."While My Guitar Gently Weeps" ...with RINGO ON DRUMS!!!... Beatle heaven basically...

My abiding memory of that day though, happened before anyone struck a note. We had all taken our seats for the 'support band'...Gary Moore it was to be...but before then, when we least expected it.... on walks George Harrison. We all rose to our feet as one and what followed - for at least 5 minutes - was the biggest standing ovation I have ever been witness to. It occurred to me that all those years I'd felt like I was "the ONLY George fan still alive", there really was MILLIONS of us.

George suffered our 'emotional outpouring' until he could take no more. He then waved us quiet with the immortal line; "Calm down, calm down, it's not all it's cracked up to be, you know..." We all took our seats again, and my brother and me had big smiles, cos we realized that's so much of the reason we loved him. His life's achievement and reputation as singer/songwriter/musician/philosopher etc. has been much documented since his passing....but has there ever been a man of such talent and fame so willing to burst his own bubble?

George, you certainly were "all you were cracked up to be..." Thanks for the music - the life - and for being an unwitting template in my not always successful bid to be "a better human being".

Den Pugsley

A few years back, I met George in England while doing a Gary Moore album in England, near Friar Park in Henley. We had been recording for days & it was at the time of the Wimbledon Championships. John McEnroe was playing, so we were seeing his antics on the big screen daily on our breaks from work. One night at about twilight, while seated for dinner at the house next to the studio, we looked out the picture window facing the garden & 2 ominous figures started to approach the house. Looking a little closer it seemed like we were back in the TV room because there in front of us was the face of John McEnroe! But wait, he's being followed by another familiar-looking someone........WOW! It's George Harrison!! Well, they had heard we were recording & just felt like doing some playing with us on our break! And play we did!

Afterwards, George graciously invited us to his "pad" to visit. He couldn't have been sweeter & more hospitable, repeatedly making certain everyone was comfortable "Can I get you another orange juice? Do you want to sit over here? Have you heard this rare Roy Orbison record?" etc. At one point, I picked up one of his beautiful ukuleles (he had them scattered about the living room) & started to play. George picked another one up & we were jamming away!

I asked Olivia why she thought George was so nice. She explained simply that George comes from a working class background & this was fitting behavior. All I could think was, "Here's a guy who's been on top of the world, never really left & I am getting treated like I was at home-only better"!

One day in NYC I checked my answering machine at home and there was a message from someone with a very convincing Scouser accent: "Hello Will, this is George Harrison calling. I'd like to steal you away from that Television Programme (Letterman Show) for a couple of days to play with me at the Albert Hall. My number is............".

Now, my brother Rob does great vocal impressions, so I really didn't pay much attention. I did call Rob, though to congratulate him on such a convincing job. He said, "What? I hope you saved that message. It could have been the real thing!" Luckily I hadn't erased it because it was for real! The experience was unforgettable-fly over on the Concorde, rehearse one day, perform the next. I think it was George's last solo gig & the first time in London in years-in fact I think since the Apple roof. We did all his hits, starting with "I Want to Tell You" and I want to tell you, playing Albert Hall with GH was Rock & Roll Heaven!

The capper of that gig was the encore. First, George introduced Ringo & the place went nuts. The first of two songs was "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" with Gary Moore aceing the guitar solo. Then finally, we broke into "Roll Over Beethoven", which as it turns out, I knew the words, for I had just sung the song for the movie "Beethoven" (the dog movie). So it was George & I duetting with Ringo playing drums - what a night!!!

So, Mr. Harrison thank you forever for all you've given me and for everything you continue to give to us all through your music & your spirit.

Musically, Will Lee

TWIL Issue Seven February 2002