Depending on who you asked, George Harrison was many different things to different people. There was his songcraft, which won over the affections of producer savant Phil Spector; there was his musicianship, that captured the hearts of blues savants Eric Clapton and Delaney Bramlett; and then there was his penchant for comedy, which made him an obvious shoo-in for Rutland Weekend Television and Saturday Night Live.

But behind these traits stood a fragile man, aching for enlightenment and peace in an industry that strove to rid him of any of it. Keenly aware of this conflict, Harrison was brave enough to commit it to tape on the wistful Dark Horse, a confessional album written against the backdrop of a regrettable American Tour. But Harrison was always ready to brave the conflict, and it served him better to ride it out than to return to The Beatles for an easy paycheque. He was known as ‘The Quiet Beatle’, although this title did him a disservice, considering his intellectual focus and thoughtful nature. Instead, he was arguably ‘The Chameleonic Beatle’, a moniker that only serves to understand the deeply complex guitar player better. And in a deeply complicated decade, Harrison's artistry flourished