Review of The Beatles 'The White Album'

Released 1968

"You'd say I'm putting you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm.
You know i can't sleep, I can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm going insane
You know I'd give you everything I've got
For a little peace of mind".


Of all the albums I bought during my first year of University, no memory of the actual purchase is clearer than when I stumbled across The White Album.

There was a second hand record shop in the Dowanhill region of Glasgow which, as far as I can recall, I only visited twice. I have no idea why, as, on reflection, it had possibly the most eclectic selection of late sixties and early seventies era prog rock I've every seen in one place. I only remember buying two albums from there, the first Fat Mattress album ( whose unique fold out sleeve design was the most interesting aspect of the package) and The White Album.

I don't think I had ever seen a second hand copy before, and, come to think of it, I'm not sure I ever came across another one. In fact it was highly unusual to spy any second hand records by The Beatles; other than the 'red' and 'blue' compilations, and even then, that was also rare.

Therefore I have a very clear picture in my mind of the moment when my expert album flicking finger technique stopped at an original numbered copy of one of my most sought after prizes. I, like any serious music fan was very familiar with the infamy surrounding this release. From the influence of the Maharishi to the influence on Charles Manson and 'the Family', from the heated studio arguments (and walkout by Ringo) to the legendarily obtuse Revolution 9, I had long been in awe of it's mystique. One friend of mine in particular raved (and continues to rave) endlessly about it's greatness. Holding it in my hand, it had an almost tangible power.

I wasn't put off by the fact that a previous owner had seen fit to protect all edges of the sleeve with black insulation tape. This was the real deal. It had the posters, the lyrics, the lot. I can't remember what I paid for it, but, like the fool I was, I would have paid pretty much anything.

Although I already had Sgt Peppers... and Abbey Road, I still saw The Beatles as first and foremost a pop band. Both these albums had surprised me with their obvious prog leanings, but only so far. Still, seeing the green apple spinning on the turntable, I knew I was in the presence of a culturally important work.

Back In The USSR took me by surprise. It was one of those Beatles tracks which I'd forgotten I knew and enjoyed. An uptempo Beach Boys pastiche which rocked harder than I'd remembered, it made me smile at the undoubted knack Paul McCartney had for classic pop. I knew Dear Prudence, but had temporarily forgotten that this predated The Banshees remake. Although not a favourite track of mine, I loved the segues both in and out of the preceding and following tracks. I realised very quickly that The White Album is a masterpiece of sequencing

I know that I am not the first person to state this, but I think that it is worth repeating. Both the order in which the tracks are put together and the manner by which the transitions between them is managed is sublime. The variety of musical styles on offer make this especially important. If, for example, the slower ballads had been gathered together on one of the four sides, the effect would have been less effective than the actually finished product.

This makes tracks like Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da almost palatable. On it's own, it is easy to see it as irritating as Octopus's Garden on Abbey Road. However, sandwiched between Glass Onion and Wild Honey Pie, it indicates the unparalleled wealth of talent which these four musicians. The mucking around during last few seconds on the outro of Ob-La-Di also move the track out of the realm of mere whimsy, to something slightly different; pushing boundaries even on a simple pop track.

The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill , whilst hated by most Beatles fans, has more inventiveness in it's three minutes and fourteen seconds than the majority of their peers could muster in a whole album. Yes, it's got a guest appearance by that annoying Japanese woman, but listen again to just how much is going on. It's not the throw away track many would have you think it is.

Again the 'Ay-Up' segue into While My Guitar Gently Weeps is genius: serving to effectively connect songs which would otherwise be poles apart.

On my first listen, it was during Happiness Is A Warm Gun that I first had that shiver down the back of my neck when I realised how darn good this album was. I also shook my head in disbelief in amazement of how far these four mop tops had come in such a short period of time. This continued with I'm So Tired. By the time of The White Album, Lennon was clearly enjoying the emerging militant poet persona with which he was becoming adorned.

To this day I cannot understand what on earth Charles Manson heard in Piggies that inspired his actions. I love it's irreverence, simple bass line and harpsichord and I think again it's transition into Rocky Raccoon is superbly realised.

I'll admit that I was less enamoured by the last four tracks of the second side of vinyl. None of these are terrible songs; far from it, just not as inspired as the rest of the work.

The third side kicks off in wonderful style with Birthday, which sees McCartney really start to stretch out on his vocals. The best thing about this song for me is that one can almost hear a direct line leading back to their earlier days, shaking their heads together while hundreds of girls screamed in unison. Four or five years on though, this was more sophisticated, more knowing.

Yer Blues picks up where I'm So Tired leaves off: cutting humour, a strong blues influence, an excellent rhythm section which gets progressively more grungy. At two minutes and seven seconds in, the whole group steps up a gear and, despite popular myth, they appear to be having a good time. The guitar solo is typically underrated for a Beatles Track.

Mother Nature's Son is a partner piece to Blackbird in my mind. Both gorgeous. Many are quick to criticise McCartney for his pop sensibilities without listening to what else is going behind a seemingly innocuous lyric or simple song structure. Again, go back to Mother Nature's Son and listen to the many levels of instrumentation going on in the background.

The clever juxtapositions between tracks continues with the upbeat Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For me And My Monkey. Ringo's drumming is particularly strong. It surprises me that a band so intent on imploding can still sound as though they are a fully functioning unit.

To fully appreciate Helter Skelter, it is important to contextualise it's aggressive style and polemic approach. This was released before (just before) the MC5 and The Stooges launched their trademark radicalism on the American public. Sound effects were rarely heard and a screaming Paul McCartney was certainly not on the radar. All the above and the false ending with Ringo's 'I've got blisters on my fingers!!' were all so 'un-Beatle-like'. Of course, if you put all of this to one side, it would be easy to dismiss it as tame in light of many bands trading in a similar genre since, but this was The Beatles. This was 1968 and it was groundbreaking.

Long, Long, Long is one my favourite tracks on the album. The roots of so many other later bands can be traced back to this track. From More era Pink Floyd to Dark Star era Grateful Dead this is hugely influential. The atmospheric keyboards, manic drums and wailing is very, very prog. Lovely.

Revolution 1 threw me for a minute or two. I'd forgotten that there was a slow and fast version. Either way, this was classic pop which only Lennon could produce.

Honey Pie, Savoy Truffle and Cry Baby Cry lull the listener into a false sense of security. Three simple and variously daft and beautiful tracks which of themselves are pleasant and effective but brilliantly employed to set the stage for the centrepiece of the album, Revolution 9.

Revolution 9 on first hearing is just confusing and odd. With each subsequent listen, I become more convinced that this is one of the greatest pieces by the Beatles, or, to be fair, by John Lennon. There is beauty, menace, drama, invention present in layer upon layer of wonderfully paced staging for which he was woefully misunderstood at the time. The ripples emerging from the pebble which Lennon dropped in the pool of progressive rock are still being felt today.

There is a remarkable majesty by which the incoherence of Revolution 9 fades into the orchestrations of the cinematic Good Night. Two songs were probably never greater at odds. Side by side they produce a closing to the album which is tear-jerkingly moving.

This is my favourite album by The Beatles and a top five album any day of the week. I don't see this changing.