In a telling aside, Eric Clapton, the driving force behind this tribute show, confesses that his old pal, George Harrison, wouldn't have been to keen on the idea.

"He was a Pisces and a paradox," opines rock's answer to Russell Grant. "You thought you were doing him a favour and he'd say 'No, I don't want that'."

It's just as well that Eric went with his gut feeling because the result is an object lesson in concert filming, even if some of the stars are in their twilight years.

Things kick off with a gang of old chums - Clapton, Jeff Lynne and what sounds like Les Dawson on piano - grinding out one of the ex-Beatle's more forgettable numbers.

But as the evening unfolds, it becomes apparent that Harrison had quietly built up an impressive body of work (if you exclude My Sweet Lord which, strictly speaking, isn't his).

Paul McCartney, strumming a ukelele, launches a mesmerising take on Something, rising to a sublime crescendo courtesy of Andy Fairweather Lowe's slide guitar.

Cockney cheeky chappie, Joe Brown, delivers a decent version of Here Comes The Sun, while the whole ensemble rattle the joint (actually the Albert Hall) with All Things Must Pass.

Inevitably, Ringo's wheeled out for a perky Photograph (which he co-wrote with Harrison) while Tom Petty goes down a storm with a straightforward Taxman.

At times, the mix gets too rich - there's three drummers by the end - and some of the old musos look like they've been dusted down, wheeled out and strapped into a guitar.

Nevertheless, it's sonically satisfying and, particularly during Harrison's straightforward love songs, a touching display.

Perhaps the most poignant sight of the evening is the ever present Dahni Harrison, who looks so much like his father that it sends a shiver down the spine.

Tim Evans