Here Comes The Sun Beatles Apr 2026

Listen closely to the track. There is no cynicism. No irony. George’s voice, usually a dry, wry counterpoint to Lennon’s edge and McCartney’s showmanship, is suddenly vulnerable. He sings like a man convincing himself it will be okay.

The year was 1969. The Beatles, the greatest creative partnership the world had ever seen, were suffocating. Business meetings had replaced bass jams. Yoko Ono sat on an amp. Paul and John weren’t speaking. The “Get Back” sessions had devolved into apathetic silence. George Harrison, the band’s quiet lead guitarist, had finally had enough. He walked out of a meeting at Apple Corps in early June, looked up at the gray London sky, and drove to his friend Eric Clapton’s house in the country.

“It’s alright.”

They strolled through the gardens of Clapton’s Surrey estate. George picked up a borrowed acoustic guitar—a Gibson J-200—and sat on a lawn chair in the weak English sunshine. The clouds parted. Just for a moment. And out came a riff so pure, so childlike, it felt like it had existed forever: dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun…

George Harrison spent much of his life in the shadow of John and Paul. He was the “quiet one,” the one who had to fight for two songs per album. But with “Here Comes the Sun,” he did something his bandmates never quite managed: he wrote a prescription. here comes the sun beatles

The sun is waiting right behind the clouds. And it’s coming.

And it almost didn’t happen.

The Dawn After the Long Winter: Why “Here Comes the Sun” Remains The Beatles’ Essential Tonic