George Harrison’s last performance was never meant to be a farewell — yet it became one of music’s most haunting goodbyes.On July 24, 1997, in a quiet New York studio, he picked up his acoustic guitar. Then came a voice: “All Things Must Pass.” George smiled, strummed, and unknowingly gave the world his final gift — a fragile, eternal goodbye that still echoes through Beatles history.

When George Harrison stepped out of the Beatles’ long shadow in 1970, he carried with him a treasure chest of songs the band had never fully embraced. Among them was All Things Must Pass, a meditation that revealed his quiet but profound voice as a songwriter. Written during the late Beatles years but set aside, it bloomed in his first solo masterpiece — the triple album of the same name.

The song is tender yet unshakably certain: nothing lasts, not the sorrow of a grey season, nor the joy of the brightest bloom. George’s words, inspired by both Eastern philosophy and the impermanence of everyday life, carry a wisdom that feels timeless. “All things must pass, none of life’s strings can last…” — it was less a lament and more a release, a reminder that change itself is the only constant.

The track, like much of the album, carries Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound, but George’s voice cuts through with a clarity that makes the song deeply personal. It’s not just about endings, but about transformation — a quiet faith that what fades will give way to something new.

In the years since, All Things Must Pass has come to define George Harrison’s identity beyond the Beatles: spiritual, introspective, and grounded in a truth larger than fame. When he sang it, he wasn’t simply closing a chapter; he was opening a door.