When George Harrison released All Things Must Pass in 1970, it marked both a personal and musical liberation. As the first post-Beatles solo effort to gain massive critical and commercial success, it shattered the long-held perception of Harrison as the “quiet Beatle”. More importantly, it revealed his inner world, one deeply rooted in spiritual longing, Eastern philosophy, and a profound belief in the eternal. The triple album became a landmark of spiritually infused rock, blending devotional content with melodic richness, and continues to serve as a beacon for those seeking meaning beyond fame, ego, and material life.
From Beatle to Bhakta
Harrison’s spiritual journey began during the later years of The Beatles, particularly around the time of Sgt. Pepper’s and The White Album, when he became increasingly disenchanted with the trappings of fame. His exploration of Indian philosophy, sparked by Ravi Shankar and solidified through the teachings of the Hare Krishna movement and Vedic texts, fundamentally reshaped his worldview. All Things Must Pass is not simply a musical statement; it is a spiritual outpouring, a blend of confessional songwriting and devotional offering. The album does not separate the sacred from the secular—it weaves them together, suggesting that daily life and the divine are part of the same continuum.
My Sweet Lord: Longing for the Divine
The most iconic track on the album, “My Sweet Lord”, is a musical prayer. Its simplicity masks its power—what begins as a gentle, gospel-influenced melody evolves into a transcendent chant. Harrison sings the praises of the divine in both Christian and Hindu traditions, moving from “Hallelujah” to “Hare Krishna”, blurring lines between East and West. The song was groundbreaking for introducing Sanskrit mantras into mainstream Western music, not as exotic decoration, but as the heart of the piece. Its repetition is meditative, invoking the bhakti tradition of devotional singing. Harrison’s longing for God is palpable and sincere; the song is not about religion as dogma, but about the yearning of the soul to reunite with its source.
Awaiting on You All: Joyful Surrender
Another track rich with spiritual energy is “Awaiting on You All”. Unlike the solemn beauty of “My Sweet Lord”, this song is upbeat and celebratory. Harrison’s lyrics call for a rejection of religious institutions and intermediaries, urging listeners to connect with the divine directly. He mocks the need for “wearing sandals” and “reading the Bible”, not to disrespect faith, but to point toward a more immediate, heart-centred connection with God. The chorus declares that “the Lord is awaiting on you all to awaken and see,” a line that captures Harrison’s belief that spiritual awakening is not reserved for saints or mystics—it is available to everyone, here and now.
All Things Must Pass: Embracing Impermanence
The album’s title track, “All Things Must Pass”, stands as one of the most spiritually profound moments in Harrison’s discography. Inspired by Eastern ideas of impermanence and cycles, the song gently reminds the listener that no sorrow, no joy, no form lasts forever. The melody is elegiac, the lyrics humble. It is a spiritual antidote to the illusion of permanence, something echoed in the teachings of Buddhism and Vedanta alike. The song does not preach; it consoles. In acknowledging the transience of life, it invites peace, not despair. Harrison’s voice, tinged with melancholy, carries the quiet authority of someone who has suffered, searched, and found solace in the eternal.
Beware of Darkness: The Inner Battle
“Beware of Darkness” explores the spiritual struggle within the self. Harrison warns against forces—both external and internal—that lead us away from truth and compassion. He sings of “thoughts that linger on and make you feel you’ve been abandoned”, pointing to the subtle ways in which doubt, fear, and ego can cloud the soul. There is a spiritual clarity in this song that is rare in rock music. The darkness is not merely psychological; it is metaphysical. Harrison, drawing from both Hindu teachings and Christian mysticism, positions the heart as the battlefield between illusion (maya) and truth. The song’s beauty lies in its honesty—it does not claim the path is easy, only that it is worth walking.
Isn’t It a Pity: Compassion Through Realisation
“Isn’t It a Pity” can be read both as a critique of human behaviour and a reflection of spiritual compassion. The song laments our failure to recognise each other as divine beings, capable of love and unity, yet so often caught in cycles of hurt. While it appears as a love song or social commentary, there is a deeper spiritual undertone: the tragedy of separation. In many mystical traditions, the root of suffering is the illusion of separateness—from one another and from the divine. Harrison’s sorrow here is not just personal—it is cosmic. The music, which swells with layers of guitar and harmony, feels like a prayer for healing, both individual and collective.
Art as Devotion
Throughout All Things Must Pass, there is a tension between personal emotion and spiritual detachment. Harrison does not claim to have transcended pain, but he offers a perspective that seeks higher understanding. Even songs that are less obviously spiritual carry traces of his devotional mindset. Tracks like “Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let It Roll)” and “Behind That Locked Door” suggest a sense of inner searching, of trying to reconcile the human and the divine. His guitar work—fluid, melancholic, soaring—often speaks as clearly as his lyrics, suggesting that the music itself is a form of worship.
The lush production, while criticised by some for its density, adds to the sense that this is not just an album—it is a spiritual landscape. Phil Spector’s wall of sound may seem at odds with quiet meditation, but in Harrison’s hands, the grandeur becomes part of the message: that devotion can be grand or subtle, loud or silent.
A Western Bhakti Record
Perhaps the most revolutionary aspect of All Things Must Pass is that it introduced a generation of Western listeners to the core principles of bhakti yoga—devotional service and love for the divine. But unlike other attempts to merge East and West, Harrison’s sincerity was unquestionable. He was not dabbling or appropriating; he was participating. The album does not wear its spirituality as aesthetic—it breathes it. It is the work of a man who had looked past the glitter of fame and seen the void behind it, choosing instead to anchor himself in something deeper, something eternal.
Conclusion: A Sacred Offering in Song
All Things Must Pass remains one of the most spiritually significant albums in popular music history. It is not simply a collection of songs; it is a spiritual statement, a chronicle of awakening, doubt, devotion, and peace. Harrison, standing at a crossroads in his life and career, chose to give the world something that transcended the temporal—a body of work that pointed toward the eternal.
The album does not demand belief, but it invites contemplation. It does not convert, but it uplifts. In a world increasingly distracted and fragmented, All Things Must Pass still resonates as a call to stillness, to surrender, and to the transformative power of love—for God, for others, and for the truth that lies beyond form.
