When George Harrison returned to the top of the charts in 1987 with “Got My Mind Set on You,” it was more than just a hit single — it was a triumphant reminder that the “quiet Beatle” could still command the pop world with charm and ease. Originally written by Rudy Clark in the early ’60s, the song found new life in George’s hands, transformed into an infectious anthem of determination and joy.
The second version of the music video — often called the “arcade” video — captured a different side of Harrison than audiences were used to. Instead of the surreal, chair-spinning antics of Version I, this video placed him in an arcade, surrounded by flashing lights, video games, and youthful energy. George stands coolly in the center, guitar in hand, looking both amused and grounded, as if winking at the pop culture whirlwind swirling around him.
What makes this version so endearing is its playfulness. By the late 1980s, Harrison had little to prove — he was already a legend, a Beatle, a revered songwriter. Yet here he was, gamely placing himself in the middle of arcade culture, bridging generations with a song that radiated optimism. The message — “It’s gonna take money, a whole lotta spending money… it’s gonna take plenty of love…” — comes across not as materialistic, but as determined, as though love is worth every effort it demands.
Vocally, George is relaxed but insistent, his voice carrying both conviction and warmth. The production, polished with that unmistakable ’80s sheen, turns the track into something radio-friendly while still letting George’s natural sincerity shine through.
The charm of “Got My Mind Set on You” — and especially the arcade video — lies in its balance of fun and authenticity. George isn’t trying to be someone he’s not; he’s simply enjoying himself, playing along with the humor of the era, and delivering a performance that feels both timeless and of its time.
In the end, this second video captures Harrison’s unique ability to blend depth with lightness. Beneath the arcade lights and playful visuals, the song remains what it always was: a declaration of devotion, sung by a man whose music had already changed the world, yet who could still find joy in the simple act of setting his mind — and his heart — on love.