At the apogee of the Beatles' domination of the pop music scene it was a commonplace that the group's youngest member, the shy and self-effacing George Harrison, was completely eclipsed by the other three. True, from the earliest days he was contributing such identifiably individual compositions as Don't Bother Me and I Need You to the band's phenomenal success. And his later Here Comes the Sun became virtually a Beatle anthem and remains a buskers' favourite.

Yet the impression remained that Harrison's modicum of talent was utterly overshadowed by the prodigious creative output and performing brio of John Lennon and Paul McCartney, and that as a character he could not hope to match the ebullient, limelight-loving Ringo Starr. Whereas the other members of the group were so clearly organic to its evolution and manifestly the true authors of the seismic revolution the Beatles encompassed in pop music in the early Sixties, Harrison could give the impression of having hopped on the bandwagon by accident -of being the one member of the Beatles who could have been exchanged for almost any other guitarist without noticeably detracting either from the band's impact or its style.

As the years went by, this impression was seen to be mistaken. Though never a flamboyant performer, Harrison emerged as a much more complete musician than might have been suspected from his early years. This was not merely a matter of the inevitable evolution which would have been expected to accompany the Beatles' own progressive growth. Harrison was a highly disciplined individual. He worked at the guitar in a way many rock'n'roll players do not, once they have achieved success, and as a result he became a most accomplished player.

When he progressed to transcendental meditation it was not a mere flirtation with those "exotic" spiritual exercises of the orient which became so fashionable among the young as the Sixties progressed. Harrison made a serious attempt to understand this new experience and his introduction of the sitar into occidental pop was no stunt but a direct result of a thoughtful study of Indian raga.

Thus, when the Beatles broke up in 1970, it was no surprise to those who had followed the input into the band of this quiet and likeable man that he had no difficulty whatsoever in forging for himself a solo career. It was of course inevitable that the distraught fans of the disintegrated group would have been ready to give a sympathetic welcome to any of them as individual performers.

But Harrison forged a solo path very much along lines he wanted to go, and was seen to be accomplished enough not to need to be simply an "ex-Beatle". Creative energies which had already been trying to assert themselves against Lennon, McCartney and Starr before the band's breakup, found ready outlet after that event.

Yet the limelight was very far from being a necessity to Harrison. Indeed, he tended to recoil from it. There were long periods in the 1980s when he withdrew from pop's "front line" and involved himself in such activities as film producing, a preoccupation first given impetus by his financial rescue of the Monty Python comedy, Life of Brian. Formula One racing was one of his great recreational enthusiasms and he was a familiar sight at Grand Prix circuits around the world. He was a close friend of many of the drivers and had played the guitar with Damon Hill and Jacques Villeneuve, drummed with Eddie Jordan and taught Gerhard Berger the ukelele. Latterly, in failing health, he had lived quietly at his home at Henley-on-Thames.

George Harrison was born in 1943, in Liverpool, the youngest of three sons. He was the only member of the Beatles to come from a large family, and the only one whose home life had been relatively uneventful. His father, Harold, was a bus driver and part-time trade union official.

He attended Dovedale Primary School in Liverpool -the same school as Lennon, though they never met there -and then the Liverpool Institute, where he met McCartney. By his own account, Harrison had little academic bent. He passed no O-levels, indeed his school decided not even to enter him for the English Language paper after he had scored a spectacular 2 per cent in the mock exam. School, in general, was not a particularly positive influence on his development.

At a period when the first wave of 1950s rock'n'roll -with its heroes Bill Haley, Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly -was running into the sands, to be replaced momentarily by a species of langorous and formulaic balladeering, many teenagers were turning to skiffle to recapture the excitement and raw energy of pop's early days. Harrison became a devotee of the skiffle king Lonnie Donegan, particularly of his recording of Rock Island Line. He taught himself to play the guitar, rehearsing every chord until his fingers bled.

In this he had active encouragement from his mother Louise, not a woman to be frightened of the new subculture. When her manifestly unacademic offspring muttered about being in a group she had the sense to see that it would be the best thing for him.

McCartney had joined Lennon's school group, the Quarrymen, in 1956. Later he took the 15-year-old Harrison along to play with them. Friends were surprised that Lennon and McCartney, who were obviously so bright and original (though no one could yet discern what they were bright and original at), should be interested in Harrison.