Carol and I were driving home last night from Massachusetts. LATE.
Travelled down to dig my brother playing big time music with a big time orchestra accompanying big time operatic performers.
On the road from 11:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m. Struggling to stay awake. Struggling to not think about this morning's booze emporium wake up call.
Eyelids fluttering, stamina flagging, positivity evaporating.
Heard a stripped down version of My Sweet Lord by George Harrison. I never heard this version before. It is bare compared to the finished product on All Things Must Pass. Raw and bare.
I loved it.
It was like God was in the room and George was singing to him. Looking him right in the eye expressing his love for the deity and the frustration of getting to the God place.
Blew me a way. Blew me away.
Mr. Harrison was such a spiritual guy. Sometimes the best music, the best communication, is the most basic. Without the violins, without the arrangement.
Just a man and his guitar and his heart and his soul and his beliefs.
A soul reviving moment in the very middle of the night.
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