Unintended Genius
The original Rolling Stone review of the White Album is pretty embarrassing. Take the first paragraph:
The power of rock and roll is a constantly amazing process. Although it is Bob Dylan who is the single most important figure in rock and roll; and although it is the Rolling Stones who are the embodiment of a rock and roll band; it is nonetheless Our Boys. The Beatles, who are the perfect product and result of everything that rock and roll means and encompasses.
Doesn’t this sound like it was written by a 16-year-old president of a Beatles fan club? This sort of exaggerated idolization, pretentiousness, and extremely poor grammar make the entire review difficult to read. To be fair to its author Jann S. Wenner, the founder of Rolling Stone, rock journalism was in its infancy. After all, his groundbreaking magazine was only a year old.
Despite his article’s faults, Wenner picks up on the essence of The White Album: “The Beatles is the history and synthesis of Western music. And that, of course is what rock and roll is, and that is what the Beatles are.”
On the surface, this seems as simplistic as the rest of the article’s unadulterated praise. But he’s hit on the reason why the White Album is so powerful: it does indeed contain “the history and synthesis of Western music.” From surf rock pastiche “Back in the USSR” to the classical lullaby “Goodnight,” the album touches on the entirety of 20th century Western popular music. It’s both a personal and collective statement, with each Beatle filtering it through their individual artistry and personality without losing the essence of the band as a whole.
Throughout his piece Wenner claims that this was deliberate. However, what makes the White Album the best album of 1968, and one of the most important statements in rock music, is that it wasn’t deliberate. It just happened.
Had they set out to do this they certainly would have failed. If you begin with a grandiose concept like creating “a history and synthesis of Western music,” the results will almost immediately become forced.
But because of the Beatles’ wide-ranging musical background, and the different creative tastes of each member, they were able to create an album that did exactly this. They didn’t set out to do it. Their collective talent, in addition to some unique personal and group circumstances, led to its creation.
I hate to sound like a 16-year-old Beatle fan club president, but not only is the White Album the best album of 1968, it is an unprecedented feat in rock history. That’s just a fact.
It Began in India
The Beatles famously went to Rishikesh, India in February 1968 to study Transcendental Meditation under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Although their stay was short – just over a week for Ringo, around a month for McCartney, two months for Lennon and Harrison – the trip left a profound impact that directly led to the White Album in multiple ways.
While in India, the Beatles mostly gave up drugs and alcohol. This, in addition to spending hours in meditation, must have helped to clear their minds, because their creative output was massive. Collectively they wrote over 30 songs, including almost every song on The White Album, a couple from Abbey Road (“Mean Mr. Mustard” and “Polythene Pam”), and a handful that they’d release on solo albums (notably, Lennon’s “Look at Me” on Plastic Ono Band and “Junk” and “Teddy Boy” on McCartney’s 1970 debut).
The Creative Resurrection of John Lennon
The trip was especially good for Lennon’s creativity. Drugs had stifled his creative output since Revolver. His best songs on Sgt. Pepper were sketches that McCartney had a large part of fleshing out in the studio (“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite,” “A Day in the Life”). “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “I Am the Walrus,” and “All You Need is Love” were the only classic songs he wrote by himself post-Revolver until India.
A combination of meditation, getting off drugs, being closer to nature, and being around other musicians helped Lennon regain his muse. He wrote an amazing thirteen songs. Not all of them are classic, but a handful are among his best material (“Julia,” “Revolution,” “Dear Prudence,” “Look at Me,” “Sexy Sadie,” “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey”).
Acoustic Guitars and Americana
All of the factors that helped John write his group of songs also helped the other Beatles. Paul wrote ten songs, including classics like “Blackbird” and “I Will.” Although George scolded John and Paul for writing songs when they should have been focusing on meditation, he wrote a handful of his own, and many more before recording began for the White Album. It's not a coincidence that he became a serious songwriter after the trip. Even Ringo completed his first song in India (“Don’t Pass Me By”).
Being forced to write songs on acoustic guitar brought out a more tender, eclectic side to the Beatles, especially Lennon and McCartney. It was the opposite of the sometimes-overcooked psychedelia of Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour.
In fact, had they followed the template of the Esher demos – which were recorded at George Harrison’s house in May 1968 and can be found on the deluxe version of the White Album in 2018 – they could have released the first Americana album. All the bases were covered: folk (“Blackbird,” “I Will,” “Julia,” even “Dear Prudence” and “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” in their early forms), blues (“Yer Blues”), and country (“Don’t Pass Me By,” “Rocky Racoon”).
The Beatles and the Hurdy Gurdy Man
In addition to their clear minds and austere surroundings in India, the Beatles’ shift in sound and tone was also influenced by the presence of Scottish folk singer Donovan.
Between meditation sessions, he taught John the fingerpicking style that he used throughout the White Album and for the rest of his career. “Julia,” “Dear Prudence,” and “Look at Me” are the most stunning examples of John using this technique. The last time he used it on a Beatles album? “Octopus’s Garden” and “Sun King.”
Donovan's fingerpicking and laid-back, traditional folk style also made an impact on Paul. “Mother Nature’s Son,” “Blackbird,” “Junk,” and “Rocky Raccoon” are clearly indebted to him.
The Genius of the Early Beatles Paved the Way for the White Album
The Beatles are more eclectic than they’re sometimes given credit for. This was the case even before the White Album. Often seen as simply a pop band, especially in their earlier days, they were always much more than that. The variety of their material, driven by the diversity of their influences, paved the way for the White Album.
Their first single, “Love Me Do,” is an acoustic guitar-led country pop song. Their other early hits are in a staggering variety of styles. Some featured complex chord progressions and melodies so interesting that classical music magazines wrote articles about them (“I Want to Hold Your Hand,” “She Loves You,” “From Me to You”), some were based on blues progressions (“I Feel Fine,” “She’s a Woman,” “Day Tripper”) and others had a folk feel and structures (“A Hard Day’s Night,” “I Should Have Known Better,” “We Can Work it Out”).
And that only scratches the surface. Early Beatles singles and albums also include slow, soulful ballads that often feature complex harmonies (“This Boy,” “Yes it Is,” “Baby It’s You,” “All I’ve Got to Do,” “And I Love Her”), Motown and soul influences (“Chains,” “Boys,” “Please Mr. Postman,” “You Really Got A Hold on Me,” “Money”), all-out rockers (“I Saw Her Standing There,” “Twist and Shout,” “It Won’t Be Long,” “Roll Over Beethoven,” “Any Time at All”), and more (Broadway tune “’Till There Was You,” the typical Paul schmaltz of “A Taste of Honey,” calypso-tinged “Mr. Moonlight,” and George’s Eastern flavored first attempt at songwriting, “Don’t Bother Me”).
And this is only their earliest material. I’ve barely mentioned the Help! album, which saw the bands songwriting continue to grow, from more mature acoustic based material (“You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away,” “Yesterday,” “I Need You”) to proto-metal (“Ticket to Ride”).
The White Album Trajectory Continues with Rubber Soul and Revolver
Then, finally, we get to their most heralded era, from Rubber Soul to Sgt. Pepper. Although their earliest material is often not given enough credit, there’s a reason why these albums are so highly regarded.
Rubber Soul perfectly mixes all the pop sensibilities the Beatles had accumulated up to that point, featuring rich layers of harmonies and some of their best melodies. “In My Life,” “If I Needed Someone,” “Norwegian Wood,” and “Girl” showed how much further their songwriting had matured. Often overlooked, the songs are fleshed out perhaps better than on any other Beatles album, with harmonies, percussion, acoustic guitars, and keyboards all making for a full, coherent sound.
George Harrison says that Rubber Soul and Revolver are similar, practically a part one and part two. As far as pushing boundaries goes, he’s right. But as an album, Revolver has a distinctly heavier, and weirder, feel. Even the ballads, such as Paul’s beautiful “Here, There, and Everywhere,” “For No One,” and “Eleanor Rigby” have a different, more seriously creative edge.
Some songs, like “Taxman,” “And Your Bird Can Sing,” “I Want to Tell You,” “She Said She Said,” and “Doctor Robert,” are like nothing the Beatles had ever done. The riffs are heavy and complex, and the subject matter is out-of-the-box and sometimes obscure. Songs like these surely alienated fans of “She Loves You” and “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” And that’s not even to mention George’s first Indian song, hypnotic and rocking “Love You Too,” and John’s droning Tibetan Book of the Dead homage “Tomorrow Never Knows.”
More than Psychedelic: Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour
Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is not a psychedelic album. Its release ushered in the Summer of Love, and was a main force in the psychedelic movement, but it was created before one really existed. With a couple of exceptions (the dreamy quality of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” the nose sections of “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!” and “Good Morning, Good Morning,” and George’s East-meets-West masterpiece “Within You Without You”), it’s mostly a straightforward rock album. There's nothing psychedelic about the title track, “With a Little Help from My Friends,” “Getting Better,” “When I’m 64,” “Fixing a Hole,” or even really “A Day in the Life.”
The impact that Pepper was more about the idea of what an album could be. Although each of the Beatles releases had been relatively cohesive, especially Rubber Soul and Revolver, they still had something of the “collection of singles” feel. Sgt. Pepper transformed the album into a piece of art in its own right, one that could be molded and created seriously and creatively. It didn’t have a lyrical “concept,” but its consistently warm sound, how one song went right into the next, and its entire package was indeed conceptual, something an album by a popular band had never been.
Magical Mystery Tour, on the other hand, is a more consciously psychedelic album. In fact, it isn’t even an album, it’s an EP of new songs combined with various singles from 1967. In both points, it’s practically the opposite of Sgt. Pepper, although it is often seen as its sister album. The psychedelic era of the Beatles doesn’t begin with Sgt. Pepper, it begins with Magical Mystery Tour, and went through the songs that would end up on Yellow Submarine.
Like the Magical Mystery Tour movie, although not as drastically, the album sometimes suffers from the trappings of psychedelia. That being said, it features some of their greatest songs (“Strawberry Fields Forever,” “Penny Lane,” “I Am the Walrus,” “Fool on the Hill,” “All You Need is Love”).
In a way, the White Album is a conscious retreat from the complicated arrangements of Sgt. Pepper and the psychedelia of Magical Mystery Tour. The trip to India cleared the Beatles minds, giving them the ability to break from the trappings of the culture around them and once again transcend it. They took their diverse influences and musical knowledge, which had been on display throughout their entire careers, and created a culmination of it – and of 20th century popular Western music.
A Single White Album?
George Martin famously thought that the White Album should have been reduced to a single record. This idea has since been debated ad nauseum.
Well, I finally have the definitive answer: no, the White Album would not have been better as a single record. That’s blasphemy.
I understand the idea, especially for a buttoned-up person like George Martin. He had an instinctual pop sensibility, a sensibility that says that every record should be as close to a perfect pop album as possible. As a single record, the White Album could have been that.
The problem is, that’s not what it was meant or built to be. Rubber Soul and Abbey Road are near-perfect pop albums. They found the Beatles reaching the top of their songwriting prowess and turning that into a cohesive whole.
For the White Album they were in a completely different stratosphere. Songs poured out of John, Paul, and George faster than they could be recorded. Each had multiple album-worthy songs ready that either didn’t get around to being recorded or were left off. Paul’s “Teddy Boy” and “Junk,” John’s “Look at Me” and “Child of Nature,” and George’s “Sour Milk Sea,” “Circles,” and “Not Guilty” are merely the ones we know about.
Records should reflect where a band is at when they’re recording it. A 12-15 song White Album would have been a pale reflection of where the Beatles were at during its creation.
Besides that, it’s impossible to satisfactorily create a 12-15 song White Album. For some, “Long Long Long” and “Cry Baby Cry” are filler that would be left off, but they’re two of my favorite songs on the record. I’m not a huge fan of “Piggies,” “Honey Pie,” “Savoy Truffle,” or “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da,” but for many those are essential tracks. Most think “Revolution 9” is a waste of space, but for some it shows the Beatles willingness to push boundaries.
There's no way to trim the White Album down to a single record because that’s simply not the way it was meant to be. If the greatest rock band of all-time, with each of its three main songwriters at the height of their power, writes and records a ton of songs at once, it makes no sense to do anything but release them all.
After all, they might accidentally create a culmination of all their past work, even of 20th century popular music. Of course, that’s exactly what the Beatles did. The proof is in the music.
Side One
“Back in the USSR”
The Beatles and the Beach Boys were friendly rivals throughout the '60s. As the story goes, Pet Sounds was an answer to Rubber Soul, Sgt. Pepper was an answer to Pet Sounds, and the unreleased Smile was an answer to Sgt. Pepper. When it came to the biggest names in pop/rock in the 60s, the only other band that touched them was the Rolling Stones.
So for the Beatles to begin the White Album with a song that sounds exactly like the Beach Boys is actually pretty funny. Imagine how confused a young music fan in the '60s would be putting it on their turntable for the first time. “The Beatles sounding like the Beach Boys? This doesn’t make any sense.”
Except it does, because “Back in the USSR” is like the Beach Boys, only better. Sure, the harmonies aren’t as majestic, but the Beach Boys could never rock this hard or have this much energy. More than the tribute it was meant to be, it surpasses its target.
“Dear Prudence”
“Dear Prudence,” one of John Lennon’s masterpieces, follows. The Esher demo, which focuses on the songs fingerpicking, shows how impressive it is even as a simple folk song. It’s even more impactful as a fleshed-out rock song, with Paul giving the performance of a lifetime on drums, especially at the end.
Had the White Album been reduced to a single record, these still would have been the first two songs. The sequencing is possibly the best on a Beatles album.
“Glass Onion”
“Glass Onion” is one of those weird John Lennon songs that practically defies explanation, much like his work on Revolver. At its foundation it’s a straightforward pop/rock song, but the nonsense lyrics (meant to confuse fans who took them too seriously), funky groove, and trippy string section make it interesting.
“Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da"
To me, the first non-essential song on the White Album is “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da.” It’s a fine enough pop song, there just isn’t much to it. I’m not the first person to think so, as John Lennon was so annoyed with the song that he left a tedious recording session for it, got drunk, came back to the studio, and pounded it out on the piano twice as fast as it had been played. That this is the template for the finished version is its saving grace.
“Wild Honey Pie” and “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill”
If you like fun, “Wild Honey Pie” and “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill” are for you. If you hate fun, then they aren’t. It's as simple as that. How can you not crack a smile hearing Ringo’s adorable voice leading the chorus of the latter, or snicker when John and Yoko harmonize on the line “if looks could kill it would have been us instead of him”?
“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”
Two frontrunners for the best song on the White Album end side one. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” is perhaps George Harrison’s greatest masterpiece. Its greatness lies in its musical and emotional tension: the bass and drums keep a tight, purely rock groove, while the piano and organ add to its minor-key, ethereal feel. Eric Clapton’s emotive guitar work gives the song exactly the rock edge that it needs, its Beatle-y sound helping it fit right in. I still get goosebumps when I hear George hit the high notes at the beginning of the chorus.
“Happiness is a Warm Gun”
If not the strongest track, then John Lennon’s 4-part suite “Happiness is a Warm Gun” is at least the most creative song on the White Album. Its foreboding opening section is led by gentle fingerpicking, but it is anything but gentle. Some of Lennon’s darkest, most evocative lyrics lead into the strangely heavy “I need a fix” section, the song takes another surprising another turn with the “mother superior jumped the gun” portion, and the upbeat 50s-style doo-wop of the “happiness is a warm gun” ending comes completely out of nowhere. The entire thing goes in and out of normal and unconventional time signatures, which makes it feel familiar but throws you off enough to be provocative.
A truly stunning piece of art, and I don’t say that lightly.
Side Two
“Martha My Dear”
The bouncy piano and predominant strings that begin “Martha My Dear” are a clear indicator that it is a Paul McCartney-George Martin production. Indeed, Paul plays almost all the instruments. Somewhat surprisingly, he let George play the guitar part, how nice of him. He adds some interesting texture. “Martha My Dear” is the sort of melodic, well-crafted pop song that it seems like Paul McCartney could write at will in the late ‘60s.
“I’m So Tired”
Like “Glass Onion,” the tough weariness of Lennon’s “I’m So Tired” is something of an anomaly. Beginning as a stark combination of pop and folk, its slow buildup to the line “I’d give you everything I got for a little piece of mind” is one of the most haunting moments in the Beatles catalog.
“Blackbird” and “Piggies”
“Blackbird” is rightly considered one of Paul McCartney’s greatest achievements. It has the same eternal, effortless quality as “Yesterday.”
Which is why following it with the White Album’s only truly disposable song, "Piggies,” makes no sense (yes, I'm even counting “Revolution 9”). Although George denied it, it really sounds like it’s about the middle class. Despite their working-class background, the Beatles had an elitist streak, especially George and John. Once George got immersed in Eastern religion, anybody who didn’t understand it or mocked it became beneath him, and the working class were exactly those type of people.
More importantly, the song just isn’t good. Regardless of the subject matter, the lyrics are subpar, even for George. The harpsichord and overdone string arrangement are cute but can’t make up for the songs overall sub-par quality.
Sure, you could let that all go and just enjoy it, allowing the song to draw you in with its goofy charm. I loved “Piggies” when I was a kid, back when listening to songs had such a magical quality that I just let myself go and enjoy them. Maybe there’s something to trying to recapture that feeling.
“Don’t Pass me By” and “Rocky Racoon”
There’s an old joke that goes something like this: when somebody asks you what your favorite kind of music is, you answer “I like both kinds of music, country and western.” “Don’t Pass Me By” and “Rocky Racoon” are the White Album’s contributions to those two genres respectively. Ringo’s “Don’t Pass Me By” is straight-up country, which isn’t surprising coming from a lifelong fan of the music. After all, Ringo did sing lead on a cover Buck Owen’s “Act Naturally” on Help! and would go on to record an entire country record in Nashville. The heavy drums are the songs only rock element.
“Rocky Racoon” is the type of song that is okay when the Beatles do it, but would have been dreadfully boring had Paul done it on his own. John’s tasteful harmonica (the last time he played the instrument on a Beatle album), George Martin’s honky-tonk piano, and the band’s overall energy give the otherwise lightweight song a much-needed jolt.
“Why Don’t We Do it in the Road,” “I WIll,” and “Julia”
On “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road” Paul successfully reaches back to his early rock n’ roll roots. The reckless blues/rock song conjures the style and attitude of Sun Records. I don’t understand why Jerry Lee Lewis never covered it. Paul’s soaring, uninhibited vocal is among his best.
Side two ends with a pair of the Beatles most beautiful songs: “I Will” and “Julia.” The former is one of McCartney’s most affective love songs, while the latter is Lennon at his most tender and subtle. The fingerpicking technique he picked up from Donovan was never used more effectively.
Side Three
“Birthday”
“Birthday,” like “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road,” channels 50s rock n’ roll, only even more explicitly (and recklessly). It helps that George and John are involved, as they fill out the song in a way that is lacking in “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road.”
Lennon complained about his exclusion from that song, which is so well-suited to his style, and it’s rumored that Paul did it on purpose because John left him out of “Revolution 9.” Sounds silly, I know, but Paul was always the more experimental Beatle, so it makes sense that John co-opting his style without inviting him to take part in it might be annoying. To this day, John is seen as the more experimental Beatle, while it was Paul who was actually seriously into the British underground, and bands like the Fugs and Frank Zappa. For more on that, check out Barry Miles’ McCartney biography Many Years from Now.
“Yer Blues” and “Mother Nature’s Son”
As “Back in the USSR” does the Beach Boys better than the Beach Boys, so “Yer Blues” does the blues better than the British blues boom. It has a ferocity, intensity, and originality that are lacking in John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, however more connected to the blues they were (and however more talented they were as blues musicians). The Beatles were formed by the blues but were not limited to it, giving their take a freshness that bands from the British blues boom were sometimes lacking. “Yer Blues” has been described as a parody of the blues, but it’s hardly more of a parody than any blues song done by other British musicians.
The third side of the White Album is all about contrasts. Fittingly then, heavy “Yer Blues” is followed by delicate folk tune “Mother Nature’s Son,” which combines the gentle fingerpicking of “Blackbird” with the impressive melodic skill and orchestral grandeur of “Martha My Dear.” The poetic lyrics, which were inspired by a Maharishi talk about nature, match the music nicely.
“Everybody’s Got Something to Hide (Except Me and My Monkey)” and “Sexy Sadie”
Heavy, disjointed “Everybody's Got Something to Hide (Except Me and My Monkey)” is one of the most underappreciated Beatles songs, and not just on the White Album. It’s a complete anomaly in their catalog. Multiple heavy, complex guitar parts weave in and out as John practically screams his wordplay-heavy homage to heroin. The lyrics, which combine childlike simplicity (“your inside is out/when your outside is in”) with what appear to be serious drug references (“come on is such a joy/the deeper you go/the higher you fly”) give the song a haunting tension. It is also one of the bands most relentless performances all-around.
If you ever wanted to know John Lennon’s true feelings about the trip to India, listen to “Sexy Sadie” and replace the title with his original lyric, “Maharishi.” Supposedly, he only changed it to “Sexy Sadie” because George Harrison asked him to. The melodic pop/rock song has a surprisingly laid-back feel for such a scathing indictment (“you made a fool of everyone...the world was waiting just for you...you’ll get yours yet...just a smile would lighten everything...you made a fool of everyone”).
“Helter Skelter” and “Long, Long, Long”
The Beatles heaviest song by far, “Helter Skelter” the Beatles heaviest is practically a prophecy of where rock music would go in the wake of Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, and their descendants. McCartney wrote the song after reading an article that claimed the Who’s “I Can See for Miles” was the heaviest rock song ever written. Seeing it as a challenge, he wrote a song that would even make Pete Townshend blush. His vocal sounds scary, once again fitting the music and lyrics perfectly, as on “Mother Nature’s Son.” This song is definitive proof that McCartney is not softThis song is definitive proof that McCartney is not as soft as his detractors claim.
The ultimate transition on the White Album is from the hard rock of “Helter Skelter” to the subtle beauty of George Harrison’s overlooked classic “Long, Long, Long.” It’s dark, eeri feel is led by Paul McCartney’s ethereal organ. A ballad that lovingly describes George’s rediscovery of God, his passionate vocal performance fits the lyrics, the bridge being the high point: “so many years I was searching/so many tears I was wasting.” Ringo’s heavy drumming, one of his finest performances, adds a necessary counterpoint.
Side Four
“Revolution 1,” “Honey Pie,” and “Savoy Truffle”
Fans of the hard rock version of “Revolution,” which had been released as the b-side of “Hey Jude” a few months before the White Album, must have been pretty surprised to hear the original arrangement that opens side four. It’s about half the tempo, and John’s crunchy electric rhythm guitar is replaced with horns, acoustic guitar, and doo-wop style backing vocals. It’s charming in its own laid-back way, and the jarring electric lead guitar keeps it from becoming lightweight.
John Lennon derided McCartney songs like “Honey Pie” as “granny music,” and I'm glad he said it so I don’t have to. The first two songs on side four make it clear that we’re in for more charm than depth, and outside of “Revolution 9” that’s what we get. Another dance hall song in the vein of “When I’m 64” and “Your Mother Should Know,” “Honey Pie” is just the sort of 40s pop throwback that’ll help me pad my “the White Album is the synthesis of Western popular music” thesis.
Continuing the charm, George’s real estate on side four is taken up by “Savoy Truffle.” Basically, it’s a funky rock song about Eric Clapton’s love of chocolates, accented by electric piano and the same heavy horn sound as Sgt. Pepper’s “Good Morning, Good Morning.” The unusual ascending chord progression and dreamy, organ-led bridge give it the creative edge that typify George’s instinctual, outside-the-box songwriting style.
“Not Guilty” Interlude
In all, George got four songs on the White Album. He had demoed two more: “Sour Milk Sea,” which was given to Apple artist Jackie Lomax, and “Circles,” which George would come back to in the ‘80s yeah. Both are on par with, or better than, some of John and Paul’s songs that made the album.
Even more egregiously, the Beatles spent over 100 takes on his brilliant hard rock song “Not Guilty,” only for it to be left off. How in the hell did the schmaltz of “Honey Pie” and nine painful minutes of “Revolution 9” make the cut but “Not Guilty” didn’t? I guess it makes sense when you realize that the biting lyrics are directed towards Lennon and McCartney, who were bitter about how the India trip turned out:
Not guilty
For getting in your way
While you're trying to steal the day
Not guilty
I am not trying to be smart
I only want what I can get
I'm really sorry for your ageing head
But like you heard me said:
Not guilty
No use handing me a writ
While I'm trying to do my bit
I don't expect to take your heart
I only want what I can get
Not guilty
For looking like a freak
Making friends with every Sikh
Not guilty
For leading you astray
On the road to Mandalay
I won't upset the apple cart
I only want what I can get
I'm really sorry that you've been misled
But like you heard me said:
Not guilty
A more scathing, honest lyric has rarely ever been written. Perhaps they didn’t want to air their dirty laundry, but the song is just so much better than “Savoy Truffle,” not to mention “Piggies.” It's not a travesty that it was left off, but it’s close.
“Cry Baby Cry”
Not long after the White Album, John Lennon would basically stop writing songs that he didn’t consider to be “true to himself.” While this search for authenticity is commendable enough, it also tends to get insular, which sometimes made his songwriting more narcissistic and less creative. Wit and wordplay were replaced with straightforward personal “statements” that missed (“I Don’t Want to be a Soldier,” the entire Sometime in New York City album, “Dear Yoko”) at least as often as they hit (“Mother,” “Working Class Hero,” “God,” “Imagine,” “Watching the Wheels”).
But during the White Album he still allowed himself to write playful, wordplay-heavy songs like “Cry Baby Cry” (“Dig a Pony” was probably the last time he wrote something like this). It’s one of his most underrated songs: the melody is effortless, the descending chord progression is unique, and the feel perfectly balances light and dark. Paul and Ringo also provide one of their best grooves.
“Revolution 9”
Which brings us to the most controversial track on the White Album, “Revolution 9.” I say “track" because it certainly isn’t a song, although that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. George Martin and Paul McCartney opposed its inclusion because it didn’t sound like a Beatles song, and they were right about that, but is that a reason to leave it off? Just because it was like nothing they’d ever released doesn’t necessarily mean that it wasn’t worth including.
If you judge “Revolution 9” by the intention of its creators – as a sound collage meant to expand the boundaries of what pop music could be – it's at least successful on that front. If you judge it by the traditional standards of pop music, or of beauty, it’s an atrocity. It’s as simple as that.
If you ask me – and if you’re reading this you basically are – I think it should have been a Plastic Ono Band single backed with another weird track, White Album outtake “What’s the New Mary Jane?” This was actually planned, and it would have been a better idea, at least as far as the overall musical quality of the White Album goes. Then there would have been room for “Not Guilty” and everybody would have been happy.
Or at least I would have been.
“Goodnight”
The definitive version of “Goodnight” is included on the deluxe edition of the White Album that was released in 2018. The schmaltzy, syrupy, overcooked string arrangement is replaced with fingerpicking in the style of “Julia” and gorgeous backing vocals from John, Paul, and George.
But let’s be honest: how many people got through “Revolution 9” to even get to “Goodnight”?
The History and Synthesis of Western Music
Without setting out to do it, the Beatles did indeed create a “history and synthesis of Western music” with the White Album.
During its creation, their musical palette and creative whims were all-encompassing, both looking back into the past and ahead into the future. Pop, rock, folk, country, blues, surf rock, dance hall, classical, heavy metal, and more were all included. Their achievement is a benchmark of 20th century popular music.
And that isn’t 16-year-old Beatles fan president hyperbole. It’s the truth.
Bonus tracks
The original Rolling Stone review of the White Album is pretty embarrassing. Take the first paragraph:
The power of rock and roll is a constantly amazing process. Although it is Bob Dylan who is the single most important figure in rock and roll; and although it is the Rolling Stones who are the embodiment of a rock and roll band; it is nonetheless Our Boys. The Beatles, who are the perfect product and result of everything that rock and roll means and encompasses.
Doesn’t this sound like it was written by a 16-year-old president of a Beatles fan club? This sort of exaggerated idolization, pretentiousness, and extremely poor grammar make the entire review difficult to read. To be fair to its author Jann S. Wenner, the founder of Rolling Stone, rock journalism was in its infancy. After all, his groundbreaking magazine was only a year old.
Despite his article’s faults, Wenner picks up on the essence of The White Album: “The Beatles is the history and synthesis of Western music. And that, of course is what rock and roll is, and that is what the Beatles are.”
On the surface, this seems as simplistic as the rest of the article’s unadulterated praise. But he’s hit on the reason why the White Album is so powerful: it does indeed contain “the history and synthesis of Western music.” From surf rock pastiche “Back in the USSR” to the classical lullaby “Goodnight,” the album touches on the entirety of 20th century Western popular music. It’s both a personal and collective statement, with each Beatle filtering it through their individual artistry and personality without losing the essence of the band as a whole.
Throughout his piece Wenner claims that this was deliberate. However, what makes the White Album the best album of 1968, and one of the most important statements in rock music, is that it wasn’t deliberate. It just happened.
Had they set out to do this they certainly would have failed. If you begin with a grandiose concept like creating “a history and synthesis of Western music,” the results will almost immediately become forced.
But because of the Beatles’ wide-ranging musical background, and the different creative tastes of each member, they were able to create an album that did exactly this. They didn’t set out to do it. Their collective talent, in addition to some unique personal and group circumstances, led to its creation.
I hate to sound like a 16-year-old Beatle fan club president, but not only is the White Album the best album of 1968, it is an unprecedented feat in rock history. That’s just a fact.
It Began in India
The Beatles famously went to Rishikesh, India in February 1968 to study Transcendental Meditation under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Although their stay was short – just over a week for Ringo, around a month for McCartney, two months for Lennon and Harrison – the trip left a profound impact that directly led to the White Album in multiple ways.
While in India, the Beatles mostly gave up drugs and alcohol. This, in addition to spending hours in meditation, must have helped to clear their minds, because their creative output was massive. Collectively they wrote over 30 songs, including almost every song on The White Album, a couple from Abbey Road (“Mean Mr. Mustard” and “Polythene Pam”), and a handful that they’d release on solo albums (notably, Lennon’s “Look at Me” on Plastic Ono Band and “Junk” and “Teddy Boy” on McCartney’s 1970 debut).
The Creative Resurrection of John Lennon
The trip was especially good for Lennon’s creativity. Drugs had stifled his creative output since Revolver. His best songs on Sgt. Pepper were sketches that McCartney had a large part of fleshing out in the studio (“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite,” “A Day in the Life”). “Strawberry Fields Forever,” “I Am the Walrus,” and “All You Need is Love” were the only classic songs he wrote by himself post-Revolver until India.
A combination of meditation, getting off drugs, being closer to nature, and being around other musicians helped Lennon regain his muse. He wrote an amazing thirteen songs. Not all of them are classic, but a handful are among his best material (“Julia,” “Revolution,” “Dear Prudence,” “Look at Me,” “Sexy Sadie,” “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey”).
Acoustic Guitars and Americana
All of the factors that helped John write his group of songs also helped the other Beatles. Paul wrote ten songs, including classics like “Blackbird” and “I Will.” Although George scolded John and Paul for writing songs when they should have been focusing on meditation, he wrote a handful of his own, and many more before recording began for the White Album. It's not a coincidence that he became a serious songwriter after the trip. Even Ringo completed his first song in India (“Don’t Pass Me By”).
Being forced to write songs on acoustic guitar brought out a more tender, eclectic side to the Beatles, especially Lennon and McCartney. It was the opposite of the sometimes-overcooked psychedelia of Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour.
In fact, had they followed the template of the Esher demos – which were recorded at George Harrison’s house in May 1968 and can be found on the deluxe version of the White Album in 2018 – they could have released the first Americana album. All the bases were covered: folk (“Blackbird,” “I Will,” “Julia,” even “Dear Prudence” and “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” in their early forms), blues (“Yer Blues”), and country (“Don’t Pass Me By,” “Rocky Racoon”).
The Beatles and the Hurdy Gurdy Man
In addition to their clear minds and austere surroundings in India, the Beatles’ shift in sound and tone was also influenced by the presence of Scottish folk singer Donovan.
Between meditation sessions, he taught John the fingerpicking style that he used throughout the White Album and for the rest of his career. “Julia,” “Dear Prudence,” and “Look at Me” are the most stunning examples of John using this technique. The last time he used it on a Beatles album? “Octopus’s Garden” and “Sun King.”
Donovan's fingerpicking and laid-back, traditional folk style also made an impact on Paul. “Mother Nature’s Son,” “Blackbird,” “Junk,” and “Rocky Raccoon” are clearly indebted to him.
The Genius of the Early Beatles Paved the Way for the White Album
The Beatles are more eclectic than they’re sometimes given credit for. This was the case even before the White Album. Often seen as simply a pop band, especially in their earlier days, they were always much more than that. The variety of their material, driven by the diversity of their influences, paved the way for the White Album.
Their first single, “Love Me Do,” is an acoustic guitar-led country pop song. Their other early hits are in a staggering variety of styles. Some featured complex chord progressions and melodies so interesting that classical music magazines wrote articles about them (“I Want to Hold Your Hand,” “She Loves You,” “From Me to You”), some were based on blues progressions (“I Feel Fine,” “She’s a Woman,” “Day Tripper”) and others had a folk feel and structures (“A Hard Day’s Night,” “I Should Have Known Better,” “We Can Work it Out”).
And that only scratches the surface. Early Beatles singles and albums also include slow, soulful ballads that often feature complex harmonies (“This Boy,” “Yes it Is,” “Baby It’s You,” “All I’ve Got to Do,” “And I Love Her”), Motown and soul influences (“Chains,” “Boys,” “Please Mr. Postman,” “You Really Got A Hold on Me,” “Money”), all-out rockers (“I Saw Her Standing There,” “Twist and Shout,” “It Won’t Be Long,” “Roll Over Beethoven,” “Any Time at All”), and more (Broadway tune “’Till There Was You,” the typical Paul schmaltz of “A Taste of Honey,” calypso-tinged “Mr. Moonlight,” and George’s Eastern flavored first attempt at songwriting, “Don’t Bother Me”).
And this is only their earliest material. I’ve barely mentioned the Help! album, which saw the bands songwriting continue to grow, from more mature acoustic based material (“You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away,” “Yesterday,” “I Need You”) to proto-metal (“Ticket to Ride”).
The White Album Trajectory Continues with Rubber Soul and Revolver
Then, finally, we get to their most heralded era, from Rubber Soul to Sgt. Pepper. Although their earliest material is often not given enough credit, there’s a reason why these albums are so highly regarded.
Rubber Soul perfectly mixes all the pop sensibilities the Beatles had accumulated up to that point, featuring rich layers of harmonies and some of their best melodies. “In My Life,” “If I Needed Someone,” “Norwegian Wood,” and “Girl” showed how much further their songwriting had matured. Often overlooked, the songs are fleshed out perhaps better than on any other Beatles album, with harmonies, percussion, acoustic guitars, and keyboards all making for a full, coherent sound.
George Harrison says that Rubber Soul and Revolver are similar, practically a part one and part two. As far as pushing boundaries goes, he’s right. But as an album, Revolver has a distinctly heavier, and weirder, feel. Even the ballads, such as Paul’s beautiful “Here, There, and Everywhere,” “For No One,” and “Eleanor Rigby” have a different, more seriously creative edge.
Some songs, like “Taxman,” “And Your Bird Can Sing,” “I Want to Tell You,” “She Said She Said,” and “Doctor Robert,” are like nothing the Beatles had ever done. The riffs are heavy and complex, and the subject matter is out-of-the-box and sometimes obscure. Songs like these surely alienated fans of “She Loves You” and “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” And that’s not even to mention George’s first Indian song, hypnotic and rocking “Love You Too,” and John’s droning Tibetan Book of the Dead homage “Tomorrow Never Knows.”
More than Psychedelic: Sgt. Pepper and Magical Mystery Tour
Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is not a psychedelic album. Its release ushered in the Summer of Love, and was a main force in the psychedelic movement, but it was created before one really existed. With a couple of exceptions (the dreamy quality of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,” the nose sections of “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!” and “Good Morning, Good Morning,” and George’s East-meets-West masterpiece “Within You Without You”), it’s mostly a straightforward rock album. There's nothing psychedelic about the title track, “With a Little Help from My Friends,” “Getting Better,” “When I’m 64,” “Fixing a Hole,” or even really “A Day in the Life.”
The impact that Pepper was more about the idea of what an album could be. Although each of the Beatles releases had been relatively cohesive, especially Rubber Soul and Revolver, they still had something of the “collection of singles” feel. Sgt. Pepper transformed the album into a piece of art in its own right, one that could be molded and created seriously and creatively. It didn’t have a lyrical “concept,” but its consistently warm sound, how one song went right into the next, and its entire package was indeed conceptual, something an album by a popular band had never been.
Magical Mystery Tour, on the other hand, is a more consciously psychedelic album. In fact, it isn’t even an album, it’s an EP of new songs combined with various singles from 1967. In both points, it’s practically the opposite of Sgt. Pepper, although it is often seen as its sister album. The psychedelic era of the Beatles doesn’t begin with Sgt. Pepper, it begins with Magical Mystery Tour, and went through the songs that would end up on Yellow Submarine.
Like the Magical Mystery Tour movie, although not as drastically, the album sometimes suffers from the trappings of psychedelia. That being said, it features some of their greatest songs (“Strawberry Fields Forever,” “Penny Lane,” “I Am the Walrus,” “Fool on the Hill,” “All You Need is Love”).
In a way, the White Album is a conscious retreat from the complicated arrangements of Sgt. Pepper and the psychedelia of Magical Mystery Tour. The trip to India cleared the Beatles minds, giving them the ability to break from the trappings of the culture around them and once again transcend it. They took their diverse influences and musical knowledge, which had been on display throughout their entire careers, and created a culmination of it – and of 20th century popular Western music.
A Single White Album?
George Martin famously thought that the White Album should have been reduced to a single record. This idea has since been debated ad nauseum.
Well, I finally have the definitive answer: no, the White Album would not have been better as a single record. That’s blasphemy.
I understand the idea, especially for a buttoned-up person like George Martin. He had an instinctual pop sensibility, a sensibility that says that every record should be as close to a perfect pop album as possible. As a single record, the White Album could have been that.
The problem is, that’s not what it was meant or built to be. Rubber Soul and Abbey Road are near-perfect pop albums. They found the Beatles reaching the top of their songwriting prowess and turning that into a cohesive whole.
For the White Album they were in a completely different stratosphere. Songs poured out of John, Paul, and George faster than they could be recorded. Each had multiple album-worthy songs ready that either didn’t get around to being recorded or were left off. Paul’s “Teddy Boy” and “Junk,” John’s “Look at Me” and “Child of Nature,” and George’s “Sour Milk Sea,” “Circles,” and “Not Guilty” are merely the ones we know about.
Records should reflect where a band is at when they’re recording it. A 12-15 song White Album would have been a pale reflection of where the Beatles were at during its creation.
Besides that, it’s impossible to satisfactorily create a 12-15 song White Album. For some, “Long Long Long” and “Cry Baby Cry” are filler that would be left off, but they’re two of my favorite songs on the record. I’m not a huge fan of “Piggies,” “Honey Pie,” “Savoy Truffle,” or “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da,” but for many those are essential tracks. Most think “Revolution 9” is a waste of space, but for some it shows the Beatles willingness to push boundaries.
There's no way to trim the White Album down to a single record because that’s simply not the way it was meant to be. If the greatest rock band of all-time, with each of its three main songwriters at the height of their power, writes and records a ton of songs at once, it makes no sense to do anything but release them all.
After all, they might accidentally create a culmination of all their past work, even of 20th century popular music. Of course, that’s exactly what the Beatles did. The proof is in the music.
Side One
“Back in the USSR”
The Beatles and the Beach Boys were friendly rivals throughout the '60s. As the story goes, Pet Sounds was an answer to Rubber Soul, Sgt. Pepper was an answer to Pet Sounds, and the unreleased Smile was an answer to Sgt. Pepper. When it came to the biggest names in pop/rock in the 60s, the only other band that touched them was the Rolling Stones.
So for the Beatles to begin the White Album with a song that sounds exactly like the Beach Boys is actually pretty funny. Imagine how confused a young music fan in the '60s would be putting it on their turntable for the first time. “The Beatles sounding like the Beach Boys? This doesn’t make any sense.”
Except it does, because “Back in the USSR” is like the Beach Boys, only better. Sure, the harmonies aren’t as majestic, but the Beach Boys could never rock this hard or have this much energy. More than the tribute it was meant to be, it surpasses its target.
“Dear Prudence”
“Dear Prudence,” one of John Lennon’s masterpieces, follows. The Esher demo, which focuses on the songs fingerpicking, shows how impressive it is even as a simple folk song. It’s even more impactful as a fleshed-out rock song, with Paul giving the performance of a lifetime on drums, especially at the end.
Had the White Album been reduced to a single record, these still would have been the first two songs. The sequencing is possibly the best on a Beatles album.
“Glass Onion”
“Glass Onion” is one of those weird John Lennon songs that practically defies explanation, much like his work on Revolver. At its foundation it’s a straightforward pop/rock song, but the nonsense lyrics (meant to confuse fans who took them too seriously), funky groove, and trippy string section make it interesting.
“Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da"
To me, the first non-essential song on the White Album is “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da.” It’s a fine enough pop song, there just isn’t much to it. I’m not the first person to think so, as John Lennon was so annoyed with the song that he left a tedious recording session for it, got drunk, came back to the studio, and pounded it out on the piano twice as fast as it had been played. That this is the template for the finished version is its saving grace.
“Wild Honey Pie” and “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill”
If you like fun, “Wild Honey Pie” and “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill” are for you. If you hate fun, then they aren’t. It's as simple as that. How can you not crack a smile hearing Ringo’s adorable voice leading the chorus of the latter, or snicker when John and Yoko harmonize on the line “if looks could kill it would have been us instead of him”?
“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”
Two frontrunners for the best song on the White Album end side one. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” is perhaps George Harrison’s greatest masterpiece. Its greatness lies in its musical and emotional tension: the bass and drums keep a tight, purely rock groove, while the piano and organ add to its minor-key, ethereal feel. Eric Clapton’s emotive guitar work gives the song exactly the rock edge that it needs, its Beatle-y sound helping it fit right in. I still get goosebumps when I hear George hit the high notes at the beginning of the chorus.
“Happiness is a Warm Gun”
If not the strongest track, then John Lennon’s 4-part suite “Happiness is a Warm Gun” is at least the most creative song on the White Album. Its foreboding opening section is led by gentle fingerpicking, but it is anything but gentle. Some of Lennon’s darkest, most evocative lyrics lead into the strangely heavy “I need a fix” section, the song takes another surprising another turn with the “mother superior jumped the gun” portion, and the upbeat 50s-style doo-wop of the “happiness is a warm gun” ending comes completely out of nowhere. The entire thing goes in and out of normal and unconventional time signatures, which makes it feel familiar but throws you off enough to be provocative.
A truly stunning piece of art, and I don’t say that lightly.
Side Two
“Martha My Dear”
The bouncy piano and predominant strings that begin “Martha My Dear” are a clear indicator that it is a Paul McCartney-George Martin production. Indeed, Paul plays almost all the instruments. Somewhat surprisingly, he let George play the guitar part, how nice of him. He adds some interesting texture. “Martha My Dear” is the sort of melodic, well-crafted pop song that it seems like Paul McCartney could write at will in the late ‘60s.
“I’m So Tired”
Like “Glass Onion,” the tough weariness of Lennon’s “I’m So Tired” is something of an anomaly. Beginning as a stark combination of pop and folk, its slow buildup to the line “I’d give you everything I got for a little piece of mind” is one of the most haunting moments in the Beatles catalog.
“Blackbird” and “Piggies”
“Blackbird” is rightly considered one of Paul McCartney’s greatest achievements. It has the same eternal, effortless quality as “Yesterday.”
Which is why following it with the White Album’s only truly disposable song, "Piggies,” makes no sense (yes, I'm even counting “Revolution 9”). Although George denied it, it really sounds like it’s about the middle class. Despite their working-class background, the Beatles had an elitist streak, especially George and John. Once George got immersed in Eastern religion, anybody who didn’t understand it or mocked it became beneath him, and the working class were exactly those type of people.
More importantly, the song just isn’t good. Regardless of the subject matter, the lyrics are subpar, even for George. The harpsichord and overdone string arrangement are cute but can’t make up for the songs overall sub-par quality.
Sure, you could let that all go and just enjoy it, allowing the song to draw you in with its goofy charm. I loved “Piggies” when I was a kid, back when listening to songs had such a magical quality that I just let myself go and enjoy them. Maybe there’s something to trying to recapture that feeling.
“Don’t Pass me By” and “Rocky Racoon”
There’s an old joke that goes something like this: when somebody asks you what your favorite kind of music is, you answer “I like both kinds of music, country and western.” “Don’t Pass Me By” and “Rocky Racoon” are the White Album’s contributions to those two genres respectively. Ringo’s “Don’t Pass Me By” is straight-up country, which isn’t surprising coming from a lifelong fan of the music. After all, Ringo did sing lead on a cover Buck Owen’s “Act Naturally” on Help! and would go on to record an entire country record in Nashville. The heavy drums are the songs only rock element.
“Rocky Racoon” is the type of song that is okay when the Beatles do it, but would have been dreadfully boring had Paul done it on his own. John’s tasteful harmonica (the last time he played the instrument on a Beatle album), George Martin’s honky-tonk piano, and the band’s overall energy give the otherwise lightweight song a much-needed jolt.
“Why Don’t We Do it in the Road,” “I WIll,” and “Julia”
On “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road” Paul successfully reaches back to his early rock n’ roll roots. The reckless blues/rock song conjures the style and attitude of Sun Records. I don’t understand why Jerry Lee Lewis never covered it. Paul’s soaring, uninhibited vocal is among his best.
Side two ends with a pair of the Beatles most beautiful songs: “I Will” and “Julia.” The former is one of McCartney’s most affective love songs, while the latter is Lennon at his most tender and subtle. The fingerpicking technique he picked up from Donovan was never used more effectively.
Side Three
“Birthday”
“Birthday,” like “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road,” channels 50s rock n’ roll, only even more explicitly (and recklessly). It helps that George and John are involved, as they fill out the song in a way that is lacking in “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road.”
Lennon complained about his exclusion from that song, which is so well-suited to his style, and it’s rumored that Paul did it on purpose because John left him out of “Revolution 9.” Sounds silly, I know, but Paul was always the more experimental Beatle, so it makes sense that John co-opting his style without inviting him to take part in it might be annoying. To this day, John is seen as the more experimental Beatle, while it was Paul who was actually seriously into the British underground, and bands like the Fugs and Frank Zappa. For more on that, check out Barry Miles’ McCartney biography Many Years from Now.
“Yer Blues” and “Mother Nature’s Son”
As “Back in the USSR” does the Beach Boys better than the Beach Boys, so “Yer Blues” does the blues better than the British blues boom. It has a ferocity, intensity, and originality that are lacking in John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac, however more connected to the blues they were (and however more talented they were as blues musicians). The Beatles were formed by the blues but were not limited to it, giving their take a freshness that bands from the British blues boom were sometimes lacking. “Yer Blues” has been described as a parody of the blues, but it’s hardly more of a parody than any blues song done by other British musicians.
The third side of the White Album is all about contrasts. Fittingly then, heavy “Yer Blues” is followed by delicate folk tune “Mother Nature’s Son,” which combines the gentle fingerpicking of “Blackbird” with the impressive melodic skill and orchestral grandeur of “Martha My Dear.” The poetic lyrics, which were inspired by a Maharishi talk about nature, match the music nicely.
“Everybody’s Got Something to Hide (Except Me and My Monkey)” and “Sexy Sadie”
Heavy, disjointed “Everybody's Got Something to Hide (Except Me and My Monkey)” is one of the most underappreciated Beatles songs, and not just on the White Album. It’s a complete anomaly in their catalog. Multiple heavy, complex guitar parts weave in and out as John practically screams his wordplay-heavy homage to heroin. The lyrics, which combine childlike simplicity (“your inside is out/when your outside is in”) with what appear to be serious drug references (“come on is such a joy/the deeper you go/the higher you fly”) give the song a haunting tension. It is also one of the bands most relentless performances all-around.
If you ever wanted to know John Lennon’s true feelings about the trip to India, listen to “Sexy Sadie” and replace the title with his original lyric, “Maharishi.” Supposedly, he only changed it to “Sexy Sadie” because George Harrison asked him to. The melodic pop/rock song has a surprisingly laid-back feel for such a scathing indictment (“you made a fool of everyone...the world was waiting just for you...you’ll get yours yet...just a smile would lighten everything...you made a fool of everyone”).
“Helter Skelter” and “Long, Long, Long”
The Beatles heaviest song by far, “Helter Skelter” the Beatles heaviest is practically a prophecy of where rock music would go in the wake of Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, and their descendants. McCartney wrote the song after reading an article that claimed the Who’s “I Can See for Miles” was the heaviest rock song ever written. Seeing it as a challenge, he wrote a song that would even make Pete Townshend blush. His vocal sounds scary, once again fitting the music and lyrics perfectly, as on “Mother Nature’s Son.” This song is definitive proof that McCartney is not softThis song is definitive proof that McCartney is not as soft as his detractors claim.
The ultimate transition on the White Album is from the hard rock of “Helter Skelter” to the subtle beauty of George Harrison’s overlooked classic “Long, Long, Long.” It’s dark, eeri feel is led by Paul McCartney’s ethereal organ. A ballad that lovingly describes George’s rediscovery of God, his passionate vocal performance fits the lyrics, the bridge being the high point: “so many years I was searching/so many tears I was wasting.” Ringo’s heavy drumming, one of his finest performances, adds a necessary counterpoint.
Side Four
“Revolution 1,” “Honey Pie,” and “Savoy Truffle”
Fans of the hard rock version of “Revolution,” which had been released as the b-side of “Hey Jude” a few months before the White Album, must have been pretty surprised to hear the original arrangement that opens side four. It’s about half the tempo, and John’s crunchy electric rhythm guitar is replaced with horns, acoustic guitar, and doo-wop style backing vocals. It’s charming in its own laid-back way, and the jarring electric lead guitar keeps it from becoming lightweight.
John Lennon derided McCartney songs like “Honey Pie” as “granny music,” and I'm glad he said it so I don’t have to. The first two songs on side four make it clear that we’re in for more charm than depth, and outside of “Revolution 9” that’s what we get. Another dance hall song in the vein of “When I’m 64” and “Your Mother Should Know,” “Honey Pie” is just the sort of 40s pop throwback that’ll help me pad my “the White Album is the synthesis of Western popular music” thesis.
Continuing the charm, George’s real estate on side four is taken up by “Savoy Truffle.” Basically, it’s a funky rock song about Eric Clapton’s love of chocolates, accented by electric piano and the same heavy horn sound as Sgt. Pepper’s “Good Morning, Good Morning.” The unusual ascending chord progression and dreamy, organ-led bridge give it the creative edge that typify George’s instinctual, outside-the-box songwriting style.
“Not Guilty” Interlude
In all, George got four songs on the White Album. He had demoed two more: “Sour Milk Sea,” which was given to Apple artist Jackie Lomax, and “Circles,” which George would come back to in the ‘80s yeah. Both are on par with, or better than, some of John and Paul’s songs that made the album.
Even more egregiously, the Beatles spent over 100 takes on his brilliant hard rock song “Not Guilty,” only for it to be left off. How in the hell did the schmaltz of “Honey Pie” and nine painful minutes of “Revolution 9” make the cut but “Not Guilty” didn’t? I guess it makes sense when you realize that the biting lyrics are directed towards Lennon and McCartney, who were bitter about how the India trip turned out:
Not guilty
For getting in your way
While you're trying to steal the day
Not guilty
I am not trying to be smart
I only want what I can get
I'm really sorry for your ageing head
But like you heard me said:
Not guilty
No use handing me a writ
While I'm trying to do my bit
I don't expect to take your heart
I only want what I can get
Not guilty
For looking like a freak
Making friends with every Sikh
Not guilty
For leading you astray
On the road to Mandalay
I won't upset the apple cart
I only want what I can get
I'm really sorry that you've been misled
But like you heard me said:
Not guilty
A more scathing, honest lyric has rarely ever been written. Perhaps they didn’t want to air their dirty laundry, but the song is just so much better than “Savoy Truffle,” not to mention “Piggies.” It's not a travesty that it was left off, but it’s close.
“Cry Baby Cry”
Not long after the White Album, John Lennon would basically stop writing songs that he didn’t consider to be “true to himself.” While this search for authenticity is commendable enough, it also tends to get insular, which sometimes made his songwriting more narcissistic and less creative. Wit and wordplay were replaced with straightforward personal “statements” that missed (“I Don’t Want to be a Soldier,” the entire Sometime in New York City album, “Dear Yoko”) at least as often as they hit (“Mother,” “Working Class Hero,” “God,” “Imagine,” “Watching the Wheels”).
But during the White Album he still allowed himself to write playful, wordplay-heavy songs like “Cry Baby Cry” (“Dig a Pony” was probably the last time he wrote something like this). It’s one of his most underrated songs: the melody is effortless, the descending chord progression is unique, and the feel perfectly balances light and dark. Paul and Ringo also provide one of their best grooves.
“Revolution 9”
Which brings us to the most controversial track on the White Album, “Revolution 9.” I say “track" because it certainly isn’t a song, although that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. George Martin and Paul McCartney opposed its inclusion because it didn’t sound like a Beatles song, and they were right about that, but is that a reason to leave it off? Just because it was like nothing they’d ever released doesn’t necessarily mean that it wasn’t worth including.
If you judge “Revolution 9” by the intention of its creators – as a sound collage meant to expand the boundaries of what pop music could be – it's at least successful on that front. If you judge it by the traditional standards of pop music, or of beauty, it’s an atrocity. It’s as simple as that.
If you ask me – and if you’re reading this you basically are – I think it should have been a Plastic Ono Band single backed with another weird track, White Album outtake “What’s the New Mary Jane?” This was actually planned, and it would have been a better idea, at least as far as the overall musical quality of the White Album goes. Then there would have been room for “Not Guilty” and everybody would have been happy.
Or at least I would have been.
“Goodnight”
The definitive version of “Goodnight” is included on the deluxe edition of the White Album that was released in 2018. The schmaltzy, syrupy, overcooked string arrangement is replaced with fingerpicking in the style of “Julia” and gorgeous backing vocals from John, Paul, and George.
But let’s be honest: how many people got through “Revolution 9” to even get to “Goodnight”?
The History and Synthesis of Western Music
Without setting out to do it, the Beatles did indeed create a “history and synthesis of Western music” with the White Album.
During its creation, their musical palette and creative whims were all-encompassing, both looking back into the past and ahead into the future. Pop, rock, folk, country, blues, surf rock, dance hall, classical, heavy metal, and more were all included. Their achievement is a benchmark of 20th century popular music.
And that isn’t 16-year-old Beatles fan president hyperbole. It’s the truth.
Bonus tracks
- The road to the White Album began with the death of Brian Epstein in August 1967. Although he didn’t have much work to do for the Beatles after they stopped touring a year prior to his death, he was still their guiding force in a lot of ways. At the very least, he stopped them from doing really stupid stuff. A prime example is the mess that was the Magical Mystery Tour movie, which certainly would not have happened had he lived. Clearly, the Beatles were a little aimless without him.
- It’s no secret that the sessions for the White Album were sometimes tense. The 2018 deluxe re-issue tries hard to change that narrative by focusing on the times when the Beatles were working together and having fun, and while it does add some nuance, it doesn’t tell the whole story. It was so bad that even affable Ringo quit during the sessions. Although he came back after only a couple weeks, longtime Beatle engineer Geoff Emerick was so annoyed with the bands in-fighting that he quit early in the making of the album, and he didn’t come back into the Beatle fold until Paul convinced him to for Abbey Road.
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