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I give to you, as you give to me – George’s ‘True Love’ video
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FREE AS A BLOG
1st Jul 2025
Despite his already-entrenched disdain for publicity, the rock press and the media in general, George Harrison went all out when it came to plugging his 1976 album Thirty-Three & 1/3. Perhaps he felt obliged to make a real effort for his new record company Warner Bros after it bailed him out of his disastrous, short-lived dalliance with A&M Records, maybe he felt to make up some ground after the poor reception afforded his previous two releases, Dark Horse and Extra Texture, or possibly he just felt in a better place after a rough couple of years which saw the demise of his marriage to Pattie Boyd, a much-maligned North American tour, serious health problems and the consumption of large quantities of hard drugs. Whatever the reason, the so-called Quiet Beatle embarked on a promotional blitz unprecedented in his solo career (and subsequently matched only by his concerted efforts in service of 1987 ‘comeback’ LP Cloud 9), touring radio stations, TV studios and newspaper/magazine offices around the world, and releasing four singles in different territories. On top of that, he joined the burgeoning music video trend (which, contrary to popular myth, didn’t begin with MTV in 1981) in earnest. After his first four albums yielded just one promotional film (1974’s ‘Ding Dong, Ding Dong’), he produced no less than three for Thirty-Three & 1/3 – the last, and least celebrated, of which was made in support of his 1977 single ‘True Love’.
George’s decision to record ‘True Love’ in the first place is an interesting one. Paul McCartney was the Beatle most associated with a penchant for old-school, pre-rock ‘n’ roll ‘standards’ – derided by John Lennon as “granny music” – which he channelled into writing peerless pastiches like ‘When I’m 64’ and ‘Honey Pie’, while Ringo also showcased his love of Great American Songbook tunes when he recorded a whole lorry-load of them for his debut solo album, Sentimental Journey, in 1970. ‘True Love’ – a Cole Porter song from the 1956 rom-com musical High Society – marked the first time Harrison dipped his toe into such waters, though it transpired he was also a huge fan of the genre and later recorded two Hoagy Carmichael numbers, ‘Baltimore Oriole’ and ‘Hong Kong Blues’, for 1981’s Somewhere in England album, as well as Cab Calloway’s ‘Between The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea’ (taped in 1991 and eventually emerging on 2002’s posthumous Brainwashed collection). Unlike those covers, however, which – to varying degrees – were infused with the old-time, smoky flavour of the originals, ‘True Love’ was stripped down to its essentials and completely reassembled as a very 1970s slice of Harrison pop.
If you’ve ever heard the original version crooned by Bing Crosby (and I hadn’t until I came to write this), it’s very different – so leisurely, in fact, you might be in danger of nodding off before the end. George himself apparently said it was “a bit slow” but clearly liked the tune and set about remaking it in his own image. In truth, the original’s languid tempo might have suited his previous album, the moody and reflective Extra Texture, but 33&1/3 was a very different beast – bright, breezy and (for the most part) energetic – and so George’s re-imagining of ‘True Love’ was in keeping with that. It’s perky and upbeat, lathered in organ and embroidered throughout with Harrison’s trademark slide guitar; indeed, the guitar solo is one of those clever, inventive ‘song-within-a-song’ moments George did so well, full of pretty flourishes (and even an occasional echo of his solo on ‘My Sweet Lord’). By contrast, the electric piano which runs through the song sounds a little rinky-dink these days, and he sings the simple lyrics (skipping the honeymoon references in the original) with something of a knowing wink, cooing the title phrase in particular like he’s not taking it entirely seriously. And maybe he isn’t – after years of putting out some pretty solemn, weighty material (and facing increasing criticisms of being dour and preachy, as a result) he probably just wanted to let his hair down and have some fun with a few numbers. ‘True Love’ is pleasant, frothy and passably entertaining; it’s undoubtedly among the weaker tracks on its parent album, but serves its purpose of maintaining the lighter vibe and reminding people that its creator did have a sense of humour, after all.
And that point is certainly rammed home on its accompanying promotional film. The aforementioned knowing wink in the performance becomes a loud guffaw when transferred to the visual medium. In keeping with a couple of his earlier videos (‘Dark Horse’ and ‘Crackerbox Palace’), George makes good use of the film set in (quite literally) his back yard, making good use of the water features in his vast Friar Park estate. Also, in keeping with almost all his solo videos, the tone is very jokey; as with ‘Crackerbox Palace’, it was directed by George’s Monty Python pal Eric Idle (who would soon go on to helm famed Fabs parody The Rutles: All You Need is Cash). But the clip for ‘True Love’ is more sitcom than satire, less Life of Brian and more Carry On Loving. For all that, it’s not without its charms.
Perhaps taking its cue from the aquatic setting where Bing Crosby first sang the song to Grace Kelly, the video follows a couple enjoying the traditional English pastime of ‘punting’ on the water – being propelled along by a kind of boat chauffeur with a long pole, while they enjoy the idyllic summer sunshine. It’s very much a period piece, with the woman draped in a demur dress, hat and parasol and George looking every inch the dapper Edwardian gent, complete with straw boater hat, bow tie, stripey blazer and spats. Best of all, he even sports a sizeable twirly moustache and huge sideburns (his dodgy long curly locks of the time are thankfully kept well under wraps). In this guise, Harrison is doing his best to woo his lady companion, serenading her and pointing out the “guardian angel” of the lyric, who drifts and out of shot reading a newspaper and puffing on a fag. Alas, it’s clear from the off that woman is left cold by George’s ardour, and their courting is further hampered by low-hanging tree branches and their navigator falling into the water. George ups the ante by warbling atop a series of stones set into the water, and then in front of a waterfall, but fails to spot his would-be paramour seducing the angel above him who now, in contrast to the lyric, very much has something to do. His romantic aspirations well and truly sunk, a rueful Harrison ends the tune (inevitably) falling on his backside while his punt enters a gaping tunnel (a visual metaphor if ever there was one) and the sunny day gives way to a downpour, raindrops pelting the song’s original Bing Crosby sheet music as it floats forlornly on the water.
I think I first saw this video at a Beatles convention in the early 1990s, and – due to its rare status – was overjoyed to finally watch it. While not one of his best, it’s still a treat – mainly due to the fun of watching George ham it up as an earnest, slightly creepy would-be Romeo, rocking a priceless retro look (something he would repeat for his cameo in the 1930s-set Handmade film Shanghai Surprise in 1986) and poking fun at the syrupy nature of the song’s origin. It’s also jaunty and colourful, giving us another glimpse of George’s meticulously-restored and quite beautiful Henley estate in all its quirky, grandoise glory. Alas, his efforts were in vain, in commercial terms at least – the single, like all of his 1976/77 releases, failed to chart, and I very much doubt the promo film got a look-in anywhere on the UK’s three channels of the time. With the charts increasingly peppered with disco, punk, Abba and smooth heart-throbs like David Soul, I guess it’s really no surprise a clip set around the 1900s and featuring a star from the 1960s singing a song from the 1950s didn’t float the boat of TV execs or young record buyers.
What’s more curious is how the clip has been effectively airbrushed out of the Harrison solo canon. It was omitted from the DVD featured in the Dark Horse Years 1976–1992 box set back in 2004 and, while the videos for ‘Blow Away’ and ‘All Those Years Ago’ also failed to make the cut on that occasion, both those can now be found on George’s official YouTube channel – whereas ‘True Love’ remains conspicuous by its absence. I’m really not sure why, unless Olivia isn’t keen on promoting a film where her husband is cosying up to another woman. Yes, it’s all make believe in the clip (and he gets knocked back), but George’s proclivities in that regard are well known and perhaps the film bites a little close to the bone. I can’t think of any other reason, because this is a cool little promo which deserves to be cleaned up and shown more widely (a proper visual collection representing Harrison’s solo career, as an antedote to Martin Scorsese’s disappointing Living in the Material World documentary if nothing else, is sorely needed). As it is, ‘True Love’ remains something of a rarely-seen curio but, thanks to the efforts of various fans to improve the quality of the grainy print last circulated almost 50 years ago, a few versions are available on YouTube and are well worth a look.
The ‘True Love’ video – a bit grainy but, thanks to the Harrison estate, the best we’ve got
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