AR: The Beatles [The White Album]

The Beatles - The Beatles [The White Album] (1968)

Well, this is just silly. The Beatles has long been my favorite album, making me about as unoriginal as possible, as plain as, say, a white album cover. It all started long ago when my dad made playing "Birthday" a tradition for all of the Jones-Ellis birthday gatherings. Every birthday gathering - and there were lots of them over the years, what with the 8 people involved - featured an impromptu dance party that lasted a glorious 2:43. If I'm not crazy, this was usually followed by an album switch to some more Beatlemania era stuff, typically "Twist and Shout." I essentially have an infinity of memories of my mom and aunt dancing like crazy to that one. Dad always played "Birthday" on his original vinyl copy on our living room stereo, and even after he had switched off to Please Please Me, he would leave the double LP cover out and open to the four famed pictures:

Something about it - the stark pictures, the simple lyrics listed in black font against a vast plain background - gave off an aura of mystique. Plus, sheesh, a double album, FOUR sides of Beatles songs - and my dad so obviously loved it, I didn't know how this could not be the best album of all time. I'm sure we listened to it a lot, as these songs have always felt deeply ingrained in my being. But my earliest memories center around the "Birthday" plays and "Twist and Shout" following it. Sometimes after "T&S," Dad would put the White Album back on with the first side first, order-proper-like. I must have had to go to bed pretty soon after the time "Birthday" was busted out, because I don't remember ever getting past "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill." I do, though, have a very distinct memory of reading along with the lyrics to figure out what the ridiculous falsetto voice was saying ("But when he looked so fierce..."). So, to sum: I don't know the first time I heard this album; I know we must have listened to it all the time, but my most distinct, episodic type memories focused around birthdays. There ya have it.

Until one time, when I had to have been older than twelve (as this memory is very clear and from the new house), my dad put on the usual "Birthday," only we all got distracted by the candle-blowing and so no dance party broke out. So "T&S" didn't follow - Dad just left record 2, side A (or Side Three, I guess, is the appropriate parlance) playing. And out from the stereo bellowed a reverb-soaked "Yes I'm LONELY ... Wanna Die!" Whoa. Hey and the what now? Surely I had heard the song before, but it was very particular moment - pre-TIP, lonely middle school days, and suddenly it sure sounded like even the freaking Beatles had an urge to scream at the world. I don't mean to portray myself as this little black-clad hipster - I didn't even know who the hell "Dylan's Mr. Jones" was at that particular moment - but that scream, the snarl of that guitar, spoke in very big ways. So I definitely sat down and listened to the album-in-full then, fell in love forever, and even managed to steal my dad's CD copy of The Beatles for the next several years until I was gifted my own for high school graduation.

So that's the background, or at least part of it. Again, part of me feels particularly stupid for trying to review an album that is so fundamental to my constitution and one about which so much has been written already. It's still in the number one overall spot; it's not just Desert Island Recommended but will already be playing when I get to the Island. I don't know, coconut transistors or something. They'll figure it out.

All of which is to say that this is a beyond fantastic album, *even though* it's not a perfect one. Sure, there's some filler. There are two of the worst "tunes" in the Beatles catalog as the big finale. It's totally unfocused, stylistically all over the map, and all reports are that the songs were essentially composed-in-solo; no magic L-M collaboration going down here. Still, somehow the looseness, the quilty patchwork quality all comes together. Even if the songs are solipsistic islands, the sheer talent and ear of the four individuals is most definitely there, and the album-as-a-whole is an excellent "collaboration." I could wax indefinitely, but after all these years, The Beatles are still my favorite band, and the unending variety here still constitutes my favorite collection of their work. I'll give this super-album the track-by-track treatment, and I'll try to recount associated memories as I, er, remember them. Here goes:

"Back in the USSR" - "BOAC" was an NYT Xword puzzle answer recently, and I had to laugh - who in the hey would not know that? There was a time when I believed a rumor that the White Album was a track by track parody of all kinds of other popular bands of the day; this one was so obviously a poke at the Beach Boys and surf-rock bands that the opening track tended to lend the theory some credence, (though it obviously falls apart soon afterwards). But this is, natch, not just a parody - they arguably pull off surf better than the originals, and pepper it with a slew of typical Beatlish witticisms. Love the overhead plane sounds throughout, the supersilly "Georgia's Always on My Mind" nod, and the screaming guitar work throughout. I really like the high pitched trills over the last verse; in typical fashion, they keep each verse unique with a little touch here and there. Great rocker, and an all-time fade-in to start an album. And actually, a great fade-out, too, as plane brakes give way to...

"Dear Prudence" - the tripping bass and haunting, hypnotic repeated guitar line of a fantastic John ballad. "DP" builds slowly from sparse beginnings and has various sounds join the ranks throughout the tune - you'll notice the bass gets more active as the song rolls on, multiple new electric guitars join the fray, backup vocals crawl on top of the main lines. I am sure I will reiterate this time and again in Beatles reviews, but they unfailingly take simple verse-chorus-verse constructions and subtly alter each part, adding little flourishes in each component to the point that the song takes on a structure that overarches whatever primary structure is happening. The last minute of this song in particular adds a kitchen sink of things to essentially the exact same lines as the song's opening, but the dynamic is wildly changed - what was initially a reserved ballad is an over-the-top triumphant sing-along. Listen in particular for the ever-heightening guitar line behind the last "It's beau-tifu-uh-uhl / And so are you-oo-oo." I've often thought that when people say that a modern indie-pop, chamber-vocal kind of band sounds "Beatles-esque," they really mean, "sounds like the last minute of 'Dear Prudence.'" It is quite a beaming, signature sound, and I've waxed on long enough about this classic.

"Glass Onion" - An aggressive, driving, almost sinister backbeat number. It's famously self-referential - "Strawberry Fields," 'Paul is dead' rumors, "I Am the Walrus," "Lady Madonna," "Fixing a Hole," and "The Fool on the Hill" all make appearances, as does one of the world's plainest marijuana references, "a dove-tailed joint." My favorite part of this song is the wordless bridge, where instead of an additional verse you just get the same vamped chords. It's a plain-faced instrumental break without a solo that just lets the anger simmer; great stuff. "Glass Onion" also joins the long list of Beatles tunes that collapses into a trippy, psychedelic symphonic outro, this time with some strings playing an out-of-left-field, cinematic dirge. They are an abrupt shift from the pulse of this song, and an even more abrupt shift occurs with the intro to

"Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da" - The goofy, bouncy sing-along that splits a lot of opinions. I've always had a soft-spot for the theme song to that TV classic Life Goes On. I mean, sure, the maracas are ridiculous, the lyrics nonsensical, the horn lines (while cool) intentionally whimsical, and the whole thing generally smacks of toss-off camp. It just goes to show, though, that Beatles toss-offs are really good, really catchy, and still interesting. I've heard it suggested that this is Paul's foray into ska / reggae: um, okay (update: this checks out; apparently the titular expression comes from Jimmy Scott, and the "Desmond" is Desmond Dekker. Who knew?) It does pull off a certain carefree vibe, and I do like the toy-piano flourishes towards the end and all the whimsical laughing throughout. This isn't my favorite track by a long shot, but it's still some fine pop craft. And seriously, who doesn't have a crush on Becca Thatcher?

"Honey Pie" - Speaking of toss-offs... actually, I enjoy this trippy pscychedeligoofoff track. Short, self-contained, it's the great-great-grandfather of rap album skits - totally pointless, but definitely makes for a transition.

"The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill" - one of my favorite White Album tunes to play on guitar, and yes, even including that out-of-left-field classical/Spanish guitar riff at the beginning. It's a campfire kids' song with a goofy narrative of tiger-hunting, Captain Marvel, and some Ono backing vocals, if I'm not mistaken. Has a nice juxtaposition of foreboding verses with the ultra-light sing-a-long chorus. I enjoy that this song appropriately devolves into the single horn line and the campfire self-congratulatory applause which is suddenly interrupted by "Hey-o!" and the majestic piano over guitar chungs of

"While My Guitar Gently Weeps" - George's first contribution is a gorgeous, dark ballad that notoriously features absolute lead guitar devastation by Slow Hand himself, Mr. Eric Clapton. The verses ("I look at you all / See the love there that's sleeping") are wistful, while the bridge (? - "I don't know why / Nobody told you...") sections are profoundly lilting. This is just fine, fine songcraft; everything fits wonderfully. But when you take that and throw one of the all-time sets of raging, passionate guitar solos over it, you have the first of quite a few five star tunes on this album. With all apologies to "Something" fans, this is George's best song for the Beatles, imho.

"Happiness is a Warm Gun" - This sub three minute tune packs a ton - a spooky/ethereal opening ("She's not a girl who misses much..."), an accentuated upbeat guitar attack with some of the odder lyrics you've ever heard ("a soap impression of his wife which he ate and donated to the national trust"), a dirty, dirty guitar lick with drug-fix lyrics, a running guitar bridge ("Mother Superior jumped the gun" ) and - because why not, at this point - a freaking classic '50s ballad doo-wop progression with lyrics about masturbation (see title), complete with doubletime mid section. What? Exactly. This is as pastichey as the already pastichey Beatles ever got, and it created a song with a bizarre, march ahead structure. One of my all-time favorites, btw. (Pause). Guuuuuuuuh-uh-uhn!

"Martha My Dear" - straight from the vaudeville era school of "Your Mother Should Know" comes this quick Paul ditty, the first of two such anachronistic earlier 20th century radio tunes that McCartney put on the White Album. This one starts off with just the piano, adds strings, then a tuba, then a full horn section, then full Beatles band proper. The third verse is an instrumental break that highlights the independent sweetness of the melody. Paul's bass is particularly great, and the song is tight and short enough to serve as yet another pleasant diversion from anything resembling a cohesive style.

"I'm So Tired" - Yet another one of my all-time favorite Beatles tunes, this is a run-ragged, haggard, insomniac John delivering exactly the half-asleep vocal of the song's title. In the verses, anyways; the choruses feature an irritated, sleep-deprived man who is losing his grip and lashing out at the lover (or perhaps really, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi) whose ill-treatment won't let him get that rest. A nice, thematically divided song, "IST" features a dreamy bass, a snappy, snare-drum driven chorus, some really slick guitar fills (subtle, but listen for 'em during the chorus) and one of the all time great British slang words used to describe "Sir Walter Raleigh / He was such a stupid get." Two minutes and a VVCVC structure make for a tight, excellent song.

"Blackbird" - A fingerpicked classic solo folk song from Paul that is not just impossibly lovely, but one of the few intricate things I can play (an admittedly simplified version of) on acoustic guitar. I was taught WAY back in the day by good friend Caren VW, who busted this number out at an impromptu acoustic session at one of our college nerd-recruitment experiences in high school. Some guy had been pretty obnoxious all day (w/r/t his smarts - I believe he bragged about AP scores at one point) and was playing something, probably "Come as You Are" by Nirvana, when Caren snagged the guitar and lit up the room with this. Nice, and a total destruction of any nerd-fest-nookie potentialities that "rock star" thought he was achieving that evening. Anyways... the original is an intimate tune with twittering birdsong in the background. Plain, pretty, and sedate, with an allegorical set of lyrics that sit inside the quick 2;15 neatly. It was, indeed, wack Charles Manson interpretations notwithstanding, written in response to racial tensions in the US ("black" "bird" = "African American" "woman," allegedly), though obviously without the violence component. It's terrible that this and other songs on the White Album - "Piggies" and "Helter Skelter," notably - were co-opted for such murderous purposes. I'd actually forgotten about that until I looked the album up online, which may speak at least a little to the simple beauty of the song that doesn't really send the listener toward world referents anyways. Keep an ear out for the root G note that is played over and over and over in this song; also keep an ear out for the "foot-tap" percussion which is reportedly a physical scratch on the master tape. You don't get that in ProTools, eh?

"Piggies" - I lack a sophisticated musical vocabulary and so I think anything with a harpsichord and strings sounds "baroque." But this really does smack of Renaissance Festival Faire. It's completely out of left field and is one of the most poorly disguised allegories in the history of pop. Still, the rock bridge keeps it interesting, the pig grunts render it non-standard in a "Good Morning Good Morning"-nod way, and the emphatic, over the top ending is appropriately ridiculous. I'll tolerate it, George :). Especially since straight out of that melodramatic chord we get...

"Rocky Raccoon" - another acoustic folk narrative that I have learned over the years on guitar. It's the same chord progression / picking pattern over and over (though again, the rhythm is subtly altered from verse to verse) telling the love-trianglish story of Rocky, Danny, McGill/Lil/Nancy. My dad has always sworn that this entire song is just a set-up a terrible pun at the end about Gideon failing to "help with good Rocky's revival." The harmonica, saloon hall hoedown/breakdown bridges, sorrowful backing vocals, and the organ-fade into the next tune are nice touches. Great, goofy tune, and one of my favorite to play. In fact, chroniclers of the Nyet legend are sure to know that I regularly played "RR" at Lovett College Musicale events, often inserting the famed (and thoroughly unprintable) Lovett College Cheer for the middle bridge. Matches the rhythm, you see. My friend Brett would accompany me by playing "The Beer" onstage, essentially standing there grinning and occasionally taking a sip. We also had a special affinity for the "called himself Dan" line which I sang in the voice of Christina of D/C fame. These were good times.

"Don't Pass Me By" - another goofy country stomp, this one written and sung by the inimitable Ringo Starr. It's driven by a raging fiddle line and features an oddly sad narrative (given Ringo's beaming delivery) about a girl who was in a "car crash / and [she] lost [her] head." Silly, which seems to be the theme of this part of the album, as the next song is

"Why Don't We Do it in the Road?" - the goof-off, though subtly ominous and murky blues number. It's straight up 12-bar blues and blows by in 1:42. It's also only Paul and Ringo, possibly leaving their personal tendencies unchecked by the, ahem, more serious Beatles. Two lines are repeated throughout the song and get progressively heated. I've always enjoyed the drum opening on this one.

"I Will" - A lovely Linda ballad, this is just a pretty guitar ballad / ode to Paul's wife. Pretty direct and sincere/sappy, I heard this at a wedding recently and it just sat perfectly. It's notable for a vocal bassline behind the jangling guitars and the excellent line "Make it easy to be near you / For the things you do endear you to me" which sounds like it might be syllabically awkward but rolls off flawlessly.

"Julia" - one of John's most haunting, best ballads, this quiet, acoustic solo number is just he. It's contemplative feel brings Side 2 to a great close, and the lines "Half of what I say is meaningless / Though I say it just to reach you" are classic, even if they are stolen.

"Birthday" - I've talked about this one enough in the intro, I think, but it is one of the all-time rockers. I can also crank this one out on electric guitar, too, and it is so fun to run off the signature lick and pretend I'm partying with the Ellis-Joneses or at ShowBiz Pizza or whatever. I love the vocal-less passages (with the screamed 5...6...7...8!!!) and the solo on the bridge is short but divine. This should, obviously, replace all other songs as the official BDay anthem. Duh!

"Yer Blues" - Wicked, existential despairing blues; it's been charged that this is somehow a parody, but for all John's soul-screeching, you'll be hard pressed to convince me of that. It's a relatively standard though absolutely raging blues tune, with thrilling fills and violent breakdowns - perhaps completely unsurprisingly, I LOVE that line that John sings to me that he feels so suicidal "just like Dylan's Mr. Jones" and later that "he hates [his] rock n' roll." The song breaks into a half time party at that point, and the bubbling moog (I assume) organ that comes screaming and the following psychotic guitar solo absolutely KILL. And then a trick which has popped up repeatedly - the first verse is replayed with the vocals barely audible until the song fades out. A quite strange effect, as this spins this angst-song into the realm of the ghostly. One of my all-time Beatles tracks.

"Mother Nature's Son" - a sort of classic Paul tune that does manage to capture the pastoral theme of its title. A simple, pretty guitar part backed by thumping drums and a light symphonic section, this one is highly reminiscent of "The Fool on the Hill." "Doo-doos" and humming fill some of the verses and give off the impression of a Paul solo act. The second acoustic that enters toward the very end provides a really nice harmony. This is about as shmaltzy as I can take from Paul; "The Long and Winding Road" off of Let it Be carries this style just a bit too far.

"Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey" - is one of the more ebullient, frantic and uplifting songs from the John wing. You can practically see him shaking his head jubilantly back and forth through "Come on it's SUCH A JOY!" The track is filled with yelps and screaming guitar licks; even the polyrhythm of the drums adds to the out-of-control party ideal expressed here. The title is, natch, a little goofy, and hearing the vocals ramble on spasmodically is delightful. The instrumental bass rumble near the two minute mark is one of *those* moments for me. This song really sounds like it belong somewhere back in the "And Your Bird Can Sing" part of the catalog, but it's a welcome addition here.

"Sexy Sadie" - definitely a John song, but the multiple passages and all-over-the-map instrumental contributions make his yet another classic "Beatlesque" tune. It opens with a reverberating piano and progresses to John's accusatory lyrics (originally intended, it seems, for the Maharishi) backed by Wah-wah-wah-wah vocals. Keep an ear out for some Beatles-divinity at the 0:54 mark ("One sunny day...") with a subtle guitar ringing and rounding out the sound. There's a ton going on here with countervocals, guitar running against piano, the lead vocal going atmospheric... quite an interesting song.

"Helter Skelter" - I specifically remember making a last-ditch effort at swaying Mike NTPB from his pop music oriented ways by (ironically, I note, this being the most popular band ever) playing this one very loud for him and trying to get him to guess who had written it, when it was recorded, etc. It didn't work, though I think he was surprised to learn that music made in 1968 sounded remotely like this. Famously a response to the Who's effort to write "the nastiest track ever" or somesuch, Paul penned this Black Sabbath-esque metal number and let it absolutely rock out. It's a blast of a song to play, and it is definitely the nastiest thing in the Beatles catalog. I don't know how many times my dad has busted out the Ringo-screamed "I got blisters on my fingers!" line as a joke. This is quite an angry tune, an all time metal classic, and Exhibit 1A in Paul's defense against accusations of just writing "Silly Love Songs." The even more plodding, even darker and bluesier version on the Anthology disc is also a must-hear. Five star tune.

"Long Long Long" - from the loudest, RAWKingnest to a reserved dream tune from George. He wakes up a bit midsong ("So many tears..."), but this is still one of the most meditative tracks on the pair of discs. It's a little tonally mundane, which is fine given its serene aspect, but makes it less memorable (especially considering what it's surrounded by). Weird experimental ending wakes the listener up just in time for...

"Revolution 1" - the doo-wop and original version, this will forever sound very, very slow to me since I was raised on a raging electric lead during Nike commercials. There's a brass band backing the lead in addition to all of the "Shooby-doo-bop" vocals, and the full effect is a psychedelic pastiche. John got himself into a spot of trouble by following the "you can count me out" line with an ambivalent "in?" The song, obviously, is quite anti-revolutionary, but that little vocal flourish gave the Anti-establishment kids an "in" and made this one of those songs that split parents and youth. The guitar lick alludes to simpler "Day Tripper" times, and it's a singular winner. Fantastic song, though again, the single version is forever the "real" one for me.

"Honey Pie" - the other vaudeville Paul tune. The scratchy record effect employed at the beginning is a nice touch; otherwise this is another catchy Paul tune that nails the British 1920s (or so) genre with swelling clarinets and tuba-ish bassline. I don't know if I ever listened to this without picturing Paul in a top hat with swinging cane. Catchy tune, Paul through and through.

"Savoy Truffle"- another raucous, somewhat sinister tune about, allegedly, a wide variety of chocolates. This a great George single in the "Run for Your Life" style with a buzzing horn line providing all kinds of, sorry, delicious runs through the tune. It has another self-referential moment in the "We all know ob-la-di, bla-da / But can you show me where you are?" I've got no clue on that one. Something has always sounded bitter about this song to me; still, it's catchy and energetic and features George's usual punctuated guitar fills and fiery, contained solos.

"Cry Baby Cry" - Simple acoustic ballad with some rather obscure lyrics (e.g., "The king of Marigold was in the kitchen / Cooking breakfast for the queen"), a murky line from what the wikipedia tells me is a harmonium, and a build of piano chords. Yet another lovely melody in this song that swells and adds band members throughout the process; this nursery-rhyme sort of song is the last track on the album that actually features the Beatles as a band proper. "CBC" ends and an abrupt ditty from Paul creeps in ("Can you take me back where I came from / Can you take me back?"). It's a complete non sequitur that adds to the mystery of the song and transitions effectively to

"Revolution 9" - In my junior year of high school, I listened to music right before going to sleep practically every night. One night in particular this album was in my player, and I must've drifted off fairly early on. So let's say I went to bed around midnight. At about 1:20 in the morning, in the pitch black, this experimental tape look number came on. I was snapped awake from the middle of some severely inappropriate sleep cycle in the most disorienting way possible - I didn't know where/who/when I was, all I knew is that a scary voice was stereo-tracking across the room calmly saying "Number Nine." And I specifically remember "Block that kick" and the cackling sounds of laughter popping up, too. And lasers, and TV western sounds, and you get the idea. Understandably, I was terrified, and it took some mad scrambling about the room and the slamming of a stop button to restore sanity to the world. That's one of maybe three times I've listened to this tune in my life (the fourth being at this very moment), and I've never quite forgiven it. As madhat tape-splicing excursions go, it's effective, but it's hardly worthwhile beyond its novelty. Listen - at your peril - for Yoko (I think) saying "You become naked" towards the end; this line had to be the inspiration for the non sequitur "I become naked" from the Pearl Jam experimental oddity "Bugs"from Vitalogy.

"Good Night" - I have listened to Revolution 9 more times in my life than I have listened to this song. I absolutely hate it; it's a terrible lullaby that had no business on this album. Damn you, Ringo!

Phew. 30 tracks, the last two overt stinkers (or one "art track" and "one icepick-to-the-temple-schmaltzy" track). But all of the others make for an exquisite, heterogeneous masterpiece. This review has dragged on quite long enough; suffice it to say that even though healthy portions of this album are goofy or toss off, the whole thing coheres via some still-unparalleled musicianship and songwriting. I'll leave with another view of the White Album classified by my five and four star song rankings; everybody has different favorites off of this, and the variety just lends itself to different faces of the album being loved by different people. What a great pair of discs, and like Tommy Lee Jones in MIB, I look forward to repurchasing it every time a new music medium comes out.

Five Stars: "WMGGW," "HiaWG," "YB," and "HS"
Four Stars: "BitU," "DP," "GO," "IST," "B," "RR," "J," "B," "EGStHEfMaMM," and "CBC."
Three Stars: Everything else except "WHP," "R9," and "GN."

Status: Desert Island Recommended
Nyet's Faves: "I'm So Tired" and "Yer Blues"

P.S. Oh, and since this is in the Phish series, the 10.31.94 performance of the White Album in its entirety was perhaps the truest-to-the-original album cover by the band (though they were pretty true to the original with Dark Side, too). They don't extend or jam on much of anything. But they pulled the cover off off with aplomb and a TON of energy. Some of the notable, um, Phish-nicities: Trey alters the lyrics to talk about Phish animal characters in "Glass Onion;" "WMGGW" smokes in "Trey is a Jedi" fashion, and Phish continued to cover this tune well after the show (I caught it 7.15.2000); "Don't Pass Me By" is played in a wacky doubletime / bluegrass style and appropriately sung by Fishman; "Birthday" is played in a weird minor key repeat of the main riff and features a spoken word birthday wish to one of the stage managers; "HS" is played in a really abrasive, dissonant manner and breaks down into an a cappella "I've got blisters on my fingers" choral close; their take on "Rev 1" is somewhere between the tempos of "Rev" and "Rev 1;" "CBC" is another one that made it into the Phish rotation (you can hear it on Hampton Comes Alive); Rev 9 involved an extended vacuum solo and, supposedly, some Fishman nudity; AND the band had the good sense to skip "Good Night" because it's a terrible, terrible song. This also happens to be one of the original Phish bootleg tapes I got from the very kind Phish community leader Ellis Godard, and I'm forever grateful for that.