George Harrison was known as the Quiet Beatle, the reserved, spiritual guitarist who preferred to stay out of the spotlight. But that familiar image captures only part of who he was, says Klaus Voormann, a close friend who knew Harrison long before the Beatles became global superstars.
Voormann met the Beatles in October 1960, when they were playing at Hamburg’s Kaiserkeller club, with Pete Best on drums and Stuart Sutcliffe on bass. He introduced them to his friend Astrid Kirchherr, the photographer who took their first professional-quality photos and helped establish their distinctive mop-top hairstyles.
An artist and bass player, Voormann went on to design the covers of Revolver and the Beatles’ Anthology albums. He also played in groups like Manfred Mann, performed sessions with Carly Simon and Lou Reed, and recorded on solo works by Harrison, Ringo Starr and John Lennon.
But in a new interview in the December 2026 issue of Uncut, Voormann says Harrison never wanted to be a solo artist or a frontman.
“I don’t think he really ever wanted to be a solo artist,” he revelas. “He wanted to write songs and be part of the Beatles.”
Of the Beatles, Voormann says only Paul McCartney was a natural frontman.
“If you think back to the ’60s and seeing the Beatles onstage, Paul was the one who really had contact with the audience,” he says. “John didn’t have it, George didn’t have it and Pete Best didn’t have it at all…
“But George just wanted to play guitar and sing. He was fantastic, but he did not want to entertain an audience.”
Voormann also played on Harrison’s All Things Must Pass album, where he saw how the guitarist brought musicians together. Harrison, he recalls, created a warm, welcoming atmosphere in the studio.
“All the musicians loved George. They knew he was a very spiritual person, and he created a nice atmosphere in the studio. In contrast to John, he was always trying to make everything lovely. The lights were dimmed and he’d put joss sticks up on a little altar at the front, with a little figure. […] There was always something very melodic about George’s songs, very few hard edges.”
But Voormann says Harrison’s spiritual outlook coexisted with deep personal insecurity. The guitarist was more complicated than his serene public image suggested.
“One thing which I think is very important for people to know is that he was a very insecure, very complicated person. He was always searching for something, which was the religious part of him. You could even say he was a split personality.”
Voormann recalls that Harrison was in particularly bad shape in 1970, around the time of the Beatles’ breakup and the making of All Things Must Pass. Harrison was also spending time with Delaney & Bonnie and Eric Clapton.
“He would be coking like mad, he fucked his voice, he was in bad spirits. So he always seemed kind of conflicted. In one way he had the urge to be spiritual and very much down to earth, and wrote those songs where he’s longing for that. But then suddenly — click — he’s back and on the wrong side again.”
That complexity extended to Harrison’s relationships with other people. Although Voormann describes him as a caring and thoughtful friend, he says Harrison could also be sarcastic and cutting.
“That whole ‘quiet Beatle’ thing is nonsense. That was not a part of him.”
Harrison’s sharp tongue was on display when he encountered Formula One driver Michael Schumacher, a fan of the sport himself, at a party.
“He said, ‘Michael, you’re a fantastic driver. You’re so fast, it’s ridiculous. And you’ve won so many prizes, but you’re still an arsehole.’ That was typical of George.”
Harrison’s sense of humor also extended to practical jokes. Phil Collins has recalled how the guitarist once tricked him over his contribution to All Things Must Pass. Collins had played congas during the sessions but always wondered why his parts didn’t make the album.
Years later, Harrison sent him a tape he claimed contained an outtake from the sessions. On it, Collins’s conga playing was terribly out of time. Horrified by what he heard, Collins left the listening session feeling “angry, depressed and sad,” convinced he’d finally discovered why his contribution had been left off the record.
Only afterward did Harrison reveal that the tape was fake and the whole thing was a prank.
Collins eventually saw the funny side. “We eventually managed to have a laugh about it,” he said.
“And yeah, I swore at a Beatle.”
