The Cavern
Rock & Words
THE BEATLES (a.k.a. White Album, 1968)
Artist: the Beatles (A)
Recording Dates: May 30 – Oct 14 1968
Fecha de Lanzamiento: November 22nd, 1968. UK
Record Label: Apple
Producer: George Martin
Rating: 10 (MUST HAVE, ICONIC ALBUM)
Era: Hard Rock (1968-???)
Subgenere: Hard Rock
Best Song: While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Helter Skelter or Dear Prudence…
Tracklist: 1) Back In The USSR; 2) Dear Prudence; 3) Glass Onion; 4) Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da; 5) Wild Honey Pie; 6) The Continuing Story Of Bungalow Bill; 7) While My Guitar Gently Weeps; 8) Happiness Is A Warm Gun; 9) Martha My Dear; 10) I'm So Tired; 11) Blackbird; 12) Piggies; 13) Rocky Raccoon; 14) Don't Pass Me By; 15) Why Don't We Do It In The Road; 16) I Will; 17) Julia; 18) Birthday; 19) Yer Blues; 20) Mother Nature's Son; 21) Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except For Me And My Monkey; 22) Sexy Sadie; 23) Helter Skelter; 24) Long Long Long; 25) Revolution #1; 26) Honey Pie; 27) Savoy Truffle; 28) Cry Baby Cry; 29) Revolution #9; 30) Good Night.
I know this album by heart. Every song, every note, every harmony is etched in my mind. I could write this review without even going back to it, but I'd be running out of time, haha. I grew up with it, and although it's not currently my favorite Beatles album, it was crucial in my teens for understanding the Beatles' sound during their mature period. The Beatles' self-titled album is much better known as the White Album, often called "the most diverse album ever made," one of the most complete and balanced double albums ever recorded, and perhaps the most accessible of the group's mature phase. Simple, easy-to-listen-to songs, but no less small masterpieces of pop. The White Album contains several of the quartet's best tracks, and it might even be the best place for a child or young person unfamiliar with the Beatles' studio albums to start exploring their music.
It's definitely an album for all tastes. In some ways, it's very light, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way. It's a transitional album, a departure from their psychedelic period of 1966-1967, in which they were masters, and during which they garnered the greatest acclaim with Peppers. However, for some, these psychedelic and outlandish sounds seem dated or jarring at first. In '68, they surprised everyone with a 180° turn (why do some people say "360° turn," when that's just returning to the starting point???) with a double album (which inherently involves risk), which was a first in many respects. The first without Brian Epstein; the first they released officially with Apple, the label they themselves had founded in January of that year, which would ultimately become the ironic bone of contention; The first in… well, not the first, another one where Paul takes creative control and contributes most of the songs, although again his bandmates provide the most substantial ones; the first where George composes and sings four tracks, but above all, the first where one of them is undoubtedly the best on the album; the first where Ringo stopped being a Beatle for a few days; the first where Yoko appears as John's omnipresent companion, and the first where her influence and that of heroin (the drug, not Yoko!) begin to be noticeable.
Furthermore, the first where a fracture within the group begins to appear. Fans and critics alike lavished praise on the album's mastery and freshness, but some astute critics rightly pointed out at the time that the album seemed to be the sum of four individual efforts rather than that of a band. And it's true. Each member was beginning to push in their own direction. When I was 12, I read Peter Brown's biography of the Beatles. Brown was Brian Epstein's right-hand man and the first head of Apple Records, and therefore one of the group's "inner circle." In one chapter, he says that Christmas 1968 was sad, bordering on pathetic, since the original lineup had broken up. Brian Epstein wasn't there, nor were Cynthia Lennon and Julian, and their places were taken by the sharp-tongued Yoko and Kyoko, Cynthia's daughter. Jane Asher, who had been Paul's girlfriend for a long time, wasn't there either, and in her place was Linda Eastman, whom he would marry in March of '69. By then, Yoko and Linda were already showing considerable antipathy towards each other, so you can imagine. Brown recounts that the dinner was so sad that Ringo even stayed outside for an hour, in the middle of a snowstorm, because no one could hear him shouting and banging on the window. So, in a way, it's true; this album is a triumph for them as individuals, but it's not a collective album. It's a musical portrait of the quartet fracturing, with each member pulling in their own direction: Paul with the lighter, more melodic tracks; John with the more introspective and personal ones, as well as the more social and experimental ones; George finally exploding with one of the best songs in history, two very good tracks, and another weak but acceptable one; and Ringo, who performs a couple of songs decently.
The White Album was born in India. I suppose everyone already knows the story, but anyway. On the Magical Mystery Tour, we were left behind shortly after Brian's death, which occurred while the quartet was in Wales attending a Transcendental Meditation course with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. After the film's failure and the harsh reviews, Paul took administrative control of the band. The first thing they did in 1968 was create Apple Corp., a company that would serve as their record label, but through which they would also promote new artists and, incidentally, manage the problem of taxes. The truth is, it was a very expensive toy for the band. From the name itself, the group wanted something simple and understandable for everyone, and the "Corp" was a play on words with "core," as in "Apple Heart." John was already under Yoko's influence, and also under the influence of a guy who called himself "Magic Alex," Alexis Mardas, a Greek and supposed inventor who received hundreds of thousands of pounds in Apple funding for psychedelic inventions that never saw the light of day. With Apple, they opened a hippie clothing boutique that failed, as did several artists, but some musicians did find success, such as Mary Hopkins, James Taylor, and Badfinger. The truth is, they lost millions due to mismanagement of the company, until Neil Aspinall, their longtime road manager and close friend, rescued it in 1970, the year he released some of the Beatles' solo debuts, and subsequently managed the entire Beatles legacy, from Past Masters and the Red and Blue album to CD reissues, sales on iTunes, One, Love, Rock Band, and so on.
Well, the thing is, in February of '68, the four of them traveled to India for a longer course (this time three months) with the Maharishi, since they had enjoyed the previous experience and the support he had given them after Brian Epstein's death. Along with the Beatles, other celebrities went, such as Mia Farrow's sister, Prudence, and Mike Love of the Beach Boys. The infamous "Magic Alex" was also there. Although the course was three months long, Ringo only lasted ten days because he couldn't handle the strong Indian food. Remember that as a child he had a very delicate stomach and was hospitalized several times. Paul lasted a month and then returned because he was getting bored. John and George lasted a couple of months. They didn't finish the course, supposedly because they found out that the Maharishi was trying to seduce Prudence, and also that he was drinking wine and eating meat, things forbidden during the course. This caused John tremendous anger, not only towards the Maharishi to whom he dedicated "Sexy Sadie," but also towards George, since he was the one who had introduced them to Hinduism, and this partly caused tension between them in the studio. One rumor is that the Maharishi affair was a setup orchestrated by Alex the Magician, who was jealous of the guru's influence over the quartet.
The thing is, the trip to India brought back tons and tons of songs, mostly relaxed, acoustic, simple, more personal, and brimming with genius. India filled the band with inspiration, and upon their return, they had over 40 tracks to work on. On May 30th, they went into Abbey Road to start recording. But many things had changed. Cynthia Lennon had found John and Yoko in bed together after he returned from India. Up until then, it had been an intellectual relationship with the Japanese woman, but upon finding them red-handed with their hands on that (I was going to say) Japanese thing, the marriage crumbled, and they soon divorced. Yoko began to make her presence felt in the studio, breaking one of the quartet's most sacred rules: Not even Brian Epstein was allowed to bring any of the guys he wanted to impress while they were recording. "You stick to the accounts, Brian, we'll stick to the music," they told him. With Yoko, that unspoken agreement was broken. It wasn't just that she was in the studio and followed John around like a shadow, even to the bathroom; she had an opinion on everything. This irritated the others immensely, and they soon started teasing her and telling jokes behind her back. John was annoyed with George about the Indian experience, annoyed with Paul for taking control of Apple, and annoyed with Ringo because he was the most familiar and playful with Yoko. And to top it all off, around that time he started using heroin. He ate very little and lost a lot of weight.
In an effort to take matters into his own hands and have a more prominent role in the group, he tried to have the deciding factor in the crucial matter of the band's new manager. It turns out that the Rolling Stones, after Andrew Loog Oldham left as manager in '67, had hired New York lawyer Allen Klein to manage them. And he did such a good job that he squeezed millions out of them, sometimes leaving them penniless, while having absolute control of their assets. Mick Jagger was fed up with Klein, but he didn't know how to get rid of him, until he forced himself to accept that the only band more important than the Stones was the Beatles, and he cleverly began to flatter Lennon about Klein. This issue would become crucial in 1969 and would be part of what led to the group's breakup.
The sessions, therefore, were tense like never before. Sometimes Paul would go off on his own for hours to record, so John would go into another room. This meant that some tracks had different sound engineers. George Martin was also tired of this pace, and would later say that many sessions were directionless jams, with the band out of focus and lacking teamwork (which is evident on Anthology III). This led him to snap and go on vacation halfway through the recording, leaving Chris Thomas to produce for a couple of weeks. Geoff Emerick, the main sound engineer, with whom they had worked since Revolver, also had enough and told them to get lost on July 16th. Ringo was next, leaving for two weeks starting on August 22nd. He felt sidelined and increasingly diminished in the band's creative role. He said there were days when he would sit for hours doing nothing, or simply playing chess with Mal Evans or whoever was free. Paul recorded the drum tracks for “Dear Prudence” and “Back In The USSR” during Ringo's absence, but later the three of them agreed to go and ask Ringo to come back, filling his drum kit with flowers.
Clapton's presence as a guest eased some of the tension at Abbey Road. Harrison invited him to record the lead guitar for “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” resulting in one of the most beautiful and memorable solos in history. George returned the favor by recording guitar on “Badge” for Cream's Goodbye album. Initially, Clapton was only credited as “L'Angelo Misterioso” due to contracts with different record labels. Nicky Hopkins participated in the sessions, adding boogie piano to the rockier version of the “Revolution” single.
Despite the tensions, the White Album is magnificent. It captured the Beatles at a peak of inspiration, and its acoustic foundation stems from the fact that most of the songs were written in India, with little more than a guitar. Here, the Beatles' distinct personalities are already evident, each pulling in their own direction. Paul's is more mellow, melodic, and commercial; John's is more political and experimental, with a certain heroin influence; and George's is more introspective, although "Piggies" is a biting satire of the government. The point is, each member's personality shines through. The only blemish is the horrendous "Revolution #9," the ugliest track in the entire Beatles discography, clocking in at eight minutes and more Yoko's than John's. I imagine Lennon fought hard to include that awful collage, but they could have easily replaced it with tracks like "Junk," "Child of Nature," and "Not Guilty," released on later solo albums, or the still-unreleased "Look At Me" and "Circles." Or "Hey Jude"! Can you imagine? White, when you think about it, had a lot of influence on their early solo albums, haha.
Regarding it being the most varied album in history, I think we all agree, unless there's some gem I haven't heard yet and someone proves me wrong. Namely, the White Album has Rockers (“USSR”, “Birthday” and “Road”), Blues (“Yer Blues” and “Revolution 1”, which in this version seems more bluesy than rock to me), Reggae-Calypso (“Obladi-Oblada”), Music-Hall (“Honey Pie” and “Martha My Dear”), Western (“Rocky Raccoon”), Country-Saloon (“Don't Pass Me By” and “Bungalow Bill”), songs still with a psychedelic influence (“Prudence”, “Happiness” and “Onion”), an orchestrated lullaby (“Good Night”), an electric ballad (“While My Guitar”), a bunch of acoustic ballads (“I Will”, “Julia”, “Blackbird”, “Nature's Son”…), piano ballads (“Cry Baby Cry” and “Piggies”), Protometal (“Helter Skelter”), a disastrous avant-garde experimental collage (“Revolution #9”), and the rest without A defined genre, leaning towards Rock-Pop. Is there any doubt about the album's diversity? And they still had enough material left for singles, Yellow Submarine, Abbey Road, and their solo albums! It's true that the White Album has some minor, lighter, and shorter songs, but even these are generally quite enjoyable. The only obvious filler (besides "Revolution #9") would be "Wild Honey Pie," but it's too short to be jarring. Overall, for a double album with 30 songs, it remains a timeless work of art. Let's get to the songs!
The album opens with the sound of airplane turbines landing, that legendary "boom" of George's guitar, and then the dizzying beat that introduces "Back In The USSR". We're all familiar with this track by now, but I can imagine the surprise for those who heard it for the first time in 1968 and expected a continuation of the hippie sound of '67. There's no trace of that on the album, and this first track makes that abundantly clear. The song is powerful, a furious piano-based rocker that Paul attacks mercilessly, and over which George adds masterful, distorted licks. It seems as if the band is returning to its roots, with Chuck Berry-esque rock and roll. In fact, it could almost pass for a song from their early period, were it not for Paul's affected vocals, singing in a deeper tone than he debuted on "Lady Madonna," possibly to emphasize the difference in eras. Many consider it a parody of the Beach Boys. The truth is, it's a tribute. By then, the Beatles were already light years ahead of the Californians. In Rishikesh, Paul and Mike Love became friends. Mike told him about Brian Wilson's problems after the release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, and Paul wanted to pay tribute to him as a sign of peace and friendship. Mike himself suggested that, to make the song more Beach Boys-esque, he should sing about Russian and Ukrainian girls. Lyrically, it's silly, sure, but that's the point. John and George's spectacular and vibrant backing vocals also have a sunny, Californian feel. Everything works in this lighthearted song, with a great melody, an intoxicating chorus that still gets stadiums jumping today (I can attest to that), and an epic guitar solo, which is short and often overlooked, but which I think is a stroke of Harrison genius. An excellent track to open the whole album and, incidentally, to make it clear that it's a turning point. As a side note, Paul recorded the drums himself, since the sessions took place while Ringo had left the band. On one occasion when Ringo rejoined them on drums for a concert, the Beach Boys performed the song live as a sort of counter-tribute.
The sound of fading turbines still echoes as the beautiful arpeggio of “Dear Prudence” begins. This is one of Lennon’s most underrated songs. It’s deceptively simple, and it originated in India as an entirely acoustic piece John wrote for Prudence Farrow, who was very shy and rarely interacted with the rest of the group. Hence the lyrics. Farrow would say she went to her room to meditate, and John teased her for wanting to find God faster than everyone else, so he wrote this song for her, which can transcend the anecdote and be seen as a hymn to the unity of the universe to which we belong… Melodically, it’s beautiful, with playful, provocative, almost childlike verses, and majestic bursts in the choruses “Dear Prudence…” and a fascinating key change for “Won’t you come out to play.” The arpeggio is a delicate, crystalline arrangement, creating a descending effect thanks to Paul's bass playing, which I find particularly noteworthy in this piece. George gradually joins in with electric, slightly psychedelic notes, and the effect intensifies in that exquisite, dark bridge at 1:45, "Look around, around (round round, round)," where they deliver a spectacular vocal interlude. In fact, Paul and George's harmonies are outstanding, reaching the limits of both high and low notes for backing vocals. Around 2:40, the song builds to a crescendo, featuring a mini-solo, kaleidoscopic keyboards, and Paul's increasingly complex drum pattern, leading to a spectacular climax. The intensity then abruptly drops, ending with a sweet and nostalgic arpeggio that fades away gradually. A true masterpiece, both instrumentally and lyrically, it offers a masterclass in transitioning from a very simple song to a veritable musical orgasm. I maintain that this is one of John's most underrated works. The only downside is that Ringo isn't there, and that with the unusual drum patterns he used at that time, he would have enhanced the song, even though Paul tries hard to imitate him at the end.
Next up is “Glass Onion”, also by John, where we finally see Ringo back on drums. This is a biting self-parody, a kind of continuation of “I Am the Walrus,” at least in that experimental and strange Lennon aspect. But it's bizarre in a good way, offering glimpses of psychedelia. In the lyrics, John mocks or references several previous songs: “Strawberry Fields,” “I Am the Walrus,” “The Fool on the Hill,” “Lady Madonna,” “Fixing a Hole,” and so on. He's really just making puns without much sense, simply for fun. One of the lines: “Well here's another clue for you all, the walrus was Paul,” with no other motive than to fuel the rumors of Paul's death. Hehe. The melody is very powerful; Lennon sings with something between anger and irony. George again delivers some excellent licks, which alternate with string and flute arrangements. I particularly love the bridge in the middle section, right at the one-minute mark, where everyone falls silent, Ringo hits two snare drums, and they begin a fascinating crescendo that explodes into an “Oh! Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”. It ends with John singing mid-verse, as if it's been cut short, leaving only a swaying string arrangement. It lasts just over two minutes. A song without much meaning, which many consider filler, but I find it deliciously unsettling despite not being one of the standout tracks.
The joy and lightheartedness of “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” continues. By '68, there was a huge Jamaican community in England, and the reggae movement was just starting to take off. Paul was friends with Jimmy Scott, a conga player who played with reggae and ska bands and who said “ob-la-di, ob-la-da” for everything. Hence the title. The song is infectious, has a great rhythm, the melody is intoxicating, and the chorus, despite being absurd, is one of the catchiest in history. It's been the theme song for TV series, and The Offspring blatantly ripped it off for their version of “Why Don't You Get a Job” (even the bridges, for crying out loud!). The lyrics are fun, narrating a couple, their daily struggles, their falling in love, their marriage, and having children. Nothing too profound. The horns liven up the track, with sporadic piano arrangements, canned laughter, applause, and so on. John hated this song so much that he walked out of the studio on the day of the recording sessions. The fifth take appears on the Anthology, which, in my opinion, is much better than this one—more upbeat and fluid. I don't know why it was discarded. Interestingly, Paul wouldn't play it live until 2009. For the Latin American leg of the On The Run tour, I got to hear it live with a mariachi band playing the horn sections. A really nice touch! Anyway, "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" has gone down in history as one of the catchiest nonsensical songs ever.
“Wild Honey Pie” is filler. It’s just Paul playing at being experimental; no other Beatle appears because John and Ringo were working on other tracks in another room, and George was on holiday in Greece (he left right in the middle of the sessions, can you imagine!). Paul does everything. Clearly, he’s not as good at experimenting as John. It’s jarring, the title is just repeated over and over, and it doesn’t make any sense. Filler. But hey, at least it’s only a minute long.
Then we have “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill”, which kicks off with a lightning-fast guitar arrangement with a Spanish flair, followed by a pause, and then we're launched straight into the festive chorus, which sounds like it came straight out of an Old West saloon, with Ringo's deep voice dominating, and Yoko's squeaky voice also making an appearance. All in all, it's impossible not to at least clap along. The verses are slower, more rhythmic, and darker, with Lennon singing them almost as if he were acting. The lyrics actually sound like a children's story, based on the adventures told to them by a Native American who served as their guide when they ventured deep into the jungle. The boy, whom they called Rik, boasted of having killed a tiger when it attacked a caravan of elephants he was leading. Thus, John created this sort of country parody, with an incredibly catchy chorus that sounds like it was played in a beer-fueled saloon in the Old West. The only terrible thing is the line Yoko sings solo at 1:35. What an ugly voice, for God's sake!! It's a minor issue, but it's still funny and harmless, and a demonstration of John's humor and wit.
Then we move on to a bigger topic. And I mean bigger. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” has to be, along with “Something,” among the top 10 Beatles songs, or at least it's in my personal Top 10. George was inspired by the lyrics of the Chinese book I Ching, a philosophical work that states that there are no coincidences, and everything happens for a reason. The music must have originated in India. The first demos can be heard on the Anthology, with a very simple descending arpeggio acoustic arrangement. Fortunately, they worked on it until this final result, in different sessions, with George trying out different guitars and effects, but he didn't like any of the results. Finally, he realized that the problem wasn't the guitar, but the guitarist (HA!) and invited his friend Eric Clapton to work his magic. Clapton was initially terrified. “No one has ever played with the Beatles,” he replied. But George convinced him, and on September 6th, he showed up with his Gibson Les Paul. Legend says it was on the first take. They would also say that Eric's presence relaxed the atmosphere in the studio. They also say that a year later, during the Let It Be production turmoil and George had a falling out with Paul, Macca asked Clapton to join The Beatles as George's permanent replacement. Clapton refused because it would be seen as a betrayal of Harrison, but years later he wouldn't hesitate to steal his wife. I suppose there are different levels of ethics among musicians. But I digress. "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" is a colossal, sad, dramatic, and beautiful song. The opening piano provides a kind of continuity with "Bungalow Bill," and then there are Ringo's open counters that create a sense of bursts of energy. The bass plucks descending tones to accentuate that bitter atmosphere. George sings emotionally, emphasizing the syllables, with a beautiful melody, interspersing each Zen-like verse with the song's title. Then comes the chorus, “I don’t know how…”, brighter, with major tones that sound like parting clouds. The lines “I don’t know how someone controlled you, they bought and sold you” are said to be dedicated to John and his dependence on Yoko and heroin. Everything comes together to make this a monumental song: the lyrics, the emotional vocals, the laments at the end… but the star is Clapton’s Gibson. The arrangements he unfolds throughout the song are tremendous, and it truly feels like a dialogue between George and his guitar, lamenting in notes. If a guitar has ever wept, it’s here. The solo is incredible, and many critics agree that it must be one of the best and most emotional ever. In the background, a Hammond organ provides a soft undertone. George layers his own voice. Ringo plays that reversed rhythm. Paul with the dramatic bass line (I love it). Everything. Everything is absolutely vibrant, so beautiful, that sometimes at the end, I feel like crying along with George.
We continue on a high note with “Happiness Is A Warm Gun”. When John wants to be experimental and is inspired, he creates rare gems like this. When he pushes himself, awkward pieces like “Revolution #9” or “Dig It” emerge. Here, he does it brilliantly, blending three completely different songs into a single track, including time signature changes and atmospheres that would seem impossible in one song due to their contrasting nature. It begins somberly, with a bittersweet electric arpeggio. “Duruduru dudú, oh yeah,” serves as a hook to kick off the strange 6/4 time signature. This first section is almost bitter, with strange lyrics, which some say are about a girl addicted to heroin (Yoko?). This section has always struck me as desolate, with the guitar laden with a thick and dramatic fuzz, ending with “I need a fix cos I'm going down.” Then comes a transitional section starting at 1:10, with another very strange rhythm from Ringo (the guitar playing up to three different time signatures here) and John repeating “Mother superior jump the gun.” At 1:30, they shift dramatically to a warmer section, reminiscent of late 1950s ballads, creating a melodic loop with spectacular backing vocals. John delivers a furious riff in an ode to guns… which, upon closer inspection, seems to apply to what I imagine injecting heroin must feel like. John got the title from a gun magazine cover, according to George Martin. He said he found it terrifying because a hot gun means it's just been fired. That can't be happiness. But again, my very personal view is that it's a metaphor for the dangerous drug. All in all, it's a strange, experimental song that leaves a feeling of unease, but in a good way. Freddie Mercury would say that he was inspired by it for the multi-part ensemble of “Bohemian Rhapsody”, so we can't say that it had little historical influence.
The second side of disc 1 opens with the playful "Martha My Dear", a retro ode from Paul to his beloved dog Martha, a sheepdog he adored, and who appears on the cover of Paul Is Live. The song is lovely, a Music Hall number with the horns taking center stage. It begins with a cute little piano intro, Paul launches into a sweet melody, and strings are gradually added in the verses. The horns appear in the bridges and begin to dominate, creating a beautiful ensemble. Paul was the only Beatle on this track, as he played the drums himself. A lovely song, but a bit too saccharine for my taste.
Then there's "I'm So Tired", which I think is another of John's underrated tracks. It's very short, barely two minutes, but in it, John manages to infect us with his weariness and the desperation of insomnia, then unleash a cry of reproach, followed by a formidable crescendo and increase in tempo, and finally the three verses with which he finishes, which have always seemed to me a true work of art. He wrote the song in India, and it's full of irony, reflecting the tremendous weariness he was carrying at the time. Furthermore, vocally it's one of his best performances, showcasing his entire range and intonations. And emotions! A little gem.
Then there's "Blackbird", a beautiful ballad by Paul, of a much higher caliber, with a great acoustic arrangement that's far more complex to interpret than it sounds at first glance. The lyrics this time are exquisite, using powerful metaphors with the blackbird: "Take these broken wings and learn to fly…." It's exquisitely simple, with a good melody, and demonstrates that Paul can also hold his own on the guitar. The only accompaniment is the bass drum pedal keeping the rhythm and a blackbird singing in some parts.
“Piggies” is George's political critique. George, the serious and quiet one, but who, when he wanted, could deliver barbs like “Taxman” and this piece, influenced by Orwell's Animal Farm. It's a very minor track, with the harpsichord dominating in acidic and playful sounds, but he manages to throw in lines like “Have you seen the bigger piggies, In their starched white shirts?” Don't you love it? The track is minor, but it's not bad either, and it adds a touch of humor to the album. What I don't understand is why John and Paul didn't let him include “Something,” which was already written by this point, and instead approved this one? Well, yes. Jealousy. Taking the two best tracks from a double album would have been too much for their egos.
Next comes “Rocky Raccoon”, a strange McCartney Western. Paul recites the lyrics more than sings them, not taking himself too seriously, narrating the odd adventures of Rocky the raccoon and his bible, Gideon. Who knows what inspired him, though he was trying to copy the style of Donovan, who was also with them in Rishikesh. It's somewhat experimental. Well, by Paul's standards. An acoustic guitar with metal strings, and a bass line played on the sixth string. John plays the harmonica and the harmonium. At the second beat, the rhythm kicks in, and there's an instrumental bridge where George Martin plays that boogie-piano. Another harmless, cute little tune.
Next up is “Don't Pass Me By”, another minor track, this time written and sung by Ringo! Finally!! His first composition!!!!!!!! And well, we have to admit that although it will never be on a Greatest Hits album, country suits him very well, a genre he had already explored on previous records. It's only three chords long, and it seems it was written back in '64, since he was asked in an interview back then if he had any compositions, and Paul sang the first few lines, almost as if mocking him. I think the lyrics were for his bandmates, rather than for any girl, haha. They always sidelined him. The line "I'm sorry that I doubted you, I was so unfair, You were in a car crash and you lost your hair" also fueled conspiracy theories about Paul, haha. The song is lovely, with a great solo violin arrangement. George Martin composed a long orchestrated intro that Starr didn't like, and which would later be used on Yellow Submarine as "A Beginning."
Next up is “Why Don't We Do It On The Road”, another short track, with Paul singing furiously in his “Lady Madonna” voice, but also shouting, combining these elements for the first time to create a new vocal style. It's a very simple piano-based blues, with a few slide guitar flourishes from Paul himself. The lyrics consist of the title and another line, “No one will be watching us,” to finish with the question again. The idea came to him after seeing two monkeys having sex in the middle of a road in Rishikesh, and he wondered why, if it was something so simple and natural for the monkeys, it was so complicated for us. But no, it's not exactly a philosophical song. Just a fun 1:40 filler track.
“I Will” is another short acoustic piece, where Paul does everything himself again. It’s lovely, a bit more sentimental, and reminds me more of McCartney’s solo style. It could easily have been on his debut album. I don’t know if it was dedicated to Jane (he mentions a reunion and an endless wait) or if it’s one of the first songs he dedicated to Linda. In any case, it’s simple and sweet, but bordering on corny.
Then we have "Julia", by John. It's one of the few tracks where John uses "Paul's" signature style and appears solo. It's just John and his guitar, performing a moving song for his mother, who was run over and killed in front of him when he was 18. Well, I suppose we all know the tragic story of John and his mother's relationship. It's nostalgic, with a beautiful arpeggio and all. But I don't know. I expected more from John in this tribute to his mother. I feel like he tried too hard to do something for her, and frankly, I'm not convinced. The melody is weak, John sings almost timidly (on the Anthology, he gets carried away and makes mistakes), and it seems rather lackluster to me. I mean, it's the kind of tribute to a mother I would have expected from Paul, not John. McCartney, on the other hand, dedicated "Let It Be," one of the band's iconic songs, to his mother, who died of cancer, while this one... being optimistic, barely reaches average.
The second disc kicks off with “Birthday”, which returns to their high standard. This is a rocker where the band's magic shines through once again, as it's one of the few songs truly written 50/50 by John and Paul. An underrated track, it will definitely never be a Beatles classic, but it boasts tremendous instrumental skill. This is rarely considered, but all four are truly on fire, as it's an incredibly complex song instrumentally, perhaps along with “Hey Bulldog” and “I Dig a Pony,” the quartet's most challenging. The synchronization required for the riff's construction is brutal, with the two guitars and bass mirroring the powerful riff. The drumming is relentless, from the opening mini-solo to the rhythmic shifts that drive the song forward. Vocally, it's equally impressive. Paul takes the lead vocals initially, with John providing a lower, more subtle harmony in the background. Lennon dominates the bridge, and everyone joins in, leading to a veritable party where McCartney screams his lungs out. The electric piano intertwines with the riff in the middle instrumental section. Female backing vocals, shouts, and a veritable carnival of energy are contagious. The lyrics are silly, but hey, the guys wanted to make a birthday song. In fact, it started as a jam session, with Paul alone in the studio and Chris Thomas producing (Martin had gone off on vacation); then the others arrived one by one and joined Paul, until the song took shape. I insist, lyrically it's superficial, but instrumentally it's one of their most complex and difficult to perform.
Next up is John's "Yer Blues". And as the name suggests, it's a furious blues in the generic scale. John sings with tremendous rage, almost shouting, in keeping with the numerous suicidal references in the lyrics. His guitar is laden with agonizing distortion, while George plays a solid bluesy slide. There's a great solo halfway through; I think John and George alternate, but I'm not sure. I'm not really captivated by this song, although some consider it one of the album's highlights. I find it very claustrophobic, very heroin-heavy, or at least reflecting the devastating effects the drug was having on John, and that comes through in the sound of both guitars. On the Stones' Rock & Roll Circus, Lennon would play it with Clapton, Richards, and Mitch Mitchell in a short-lived supergroup called The Dirty Mac.
“Mother Nature’s Son” brings calm back to the album. A beautiful ballad by Paul, in which this time he truly succeeds in conveying a kind of glorious tranquility. Listening to it is like being at dawn in India, contemplating the jungle. A beautiful melody, with Macca’s sweetest voice, one guitar gently strumming, another playing slides, and occasional brass flourishes that serve to emphasize that warmth without overshadowing the delicacy of the guitars. John liked this song so much that he composed “Child of Nature” in response, which would later evolve into “Jealous Guy.”
“Everybody’s Got Something To Hide Except For Me And My Monkey” seems to be John’s answer to Paul’s rocker “Why Don’t We Do It. On The Road.” Both are somewhat absurd, but brimming with energy. John even screams at times, almost hoarse. The cowbell adds an even more frenetic feel. George delivers a solid guitar performance, relentlessly playing with a slightly gritty sound. The lyrics are rather silly, but at their core, they were an affirmation that John, at that time, trusted absolutely no one but Yoko and himself. It’s a strong contender for one of the longest and most absurdly titled songs. Like “Road,” it’s not bad, but it’s equally inconsequential.
“Sexy Sadie” is John's bitter reproach to the Maharishi after feeling betrayed by him. It was originally going to be called “Maharishi,” but he was dissuaded from that due to a near-certain defamation lawsuit. He then called it Sexy Sadic, and it ended up with the current title. It's a lovely piano ballad, featuring scales and arpeggios, and letting slip some dissonances that highlight its beauty. The backing vocals are good, and John masterfully plays with the melodies, constantly shifting them. Surprisingly, his voice doesn't display anger; he doesn't shout as in other songs, but instead reveals a deep disappointment, and towards the end, he reaches very high falsetto notes. George's guitar work is good; I know he didn't agree with the lyrics, but despite everything, he did a fine job.
Next up is Paul's main course. Another major surprise. "Helter Skelter" is the most powerful song in the entire Beatles discography, with raw guitars, a brutal bass line, a devastating riff, and an intensity of 10 on the Richter scale. Many consider it the first piece of heavy metal in history. I, for one, consider it a fundamental piece of proto-metal. Paul conceived it after reading in a magazine that The Who's "I Can See For Miles" was considered the most powerful song to date. Many thought the competition was with Hendrix, but it was more like Townshend! It started as a blues song; in Anthology 3, you can perceive how radically different it was initially, but it clearly evolved into a blitzkrieg artillery charge. The title is part of British slang, meaning confusion, but it's also the name of a London spiral slide park referenced in the lyrics. Paul would say he also used it as a response to those who criticized him for only writing saccharine ballads. The lyrics are silly, but he could sing anything and it would still work. The brutality with which he sings it is what matters, reaching some of his highest notes (the scream in the intro!!!). The instrumental performance is relentless, with an incredible riff, the bass deeply underscoring the verses, and George and John providing spectacular backing vocals. The false ending at 3:30 is also a formidable hook. It seems like the song ends, and then they return in a slow fade-in. The drums are incredibly powerful, and Ringo even complains at the end with a pitiful cry, "I've got blisters on my fingers!" before throwing his drumsticks at the wall. A tremendous song. There's a certain darkness to it, something uncalculated and unpremeditated, something Black Sabbath would envy. And I mean any of today's metal bands! The power is truly astonishing, and it remains as fresh and kick-ass as it was over 40 years ago. At the time, I think it was hugely underrated, so it appears on very few compilations. Over time, it has gained a lot of traction and become a fan favorite, but Paul only plays it on truly special occasions, I suppose because of the difficulty of hitting the notes. But when he does, it must undoubtedly be one of the most adrenaline-pumping moments, along with "Hey Jude." A gem, at least in my opinion, and Paul's standout track on the White Album.
We continue with “Long, Long, Long”, a beautiful piece by George. The flute-like keyboards dominate, with Ringo delivering superb drumming. Frankly, I think that, while not one of Harrison's greatest works, it's somewhat overshadowed. But it's a beautiful, beautiful, and incredibly tranquil ballad. It's perfectly timed to break with the wild rhythm of the previous track. Like many of George's songs, it's impossible to know if he dedicates it to his wife (then Patty Boyd) or to God. In any case, it's another one of those pieces that many consider tedious, but the two “minor Beatles” manage to create a beautiful piece that might have fit even better on All Things Must Pass.
The last quarter of the album opens with “Revolution #1”, a much calmer version than what we're used to. I mean, I have nothing against this slower, bluesier version; I love its cadence. The problem is that (at least I am) we're much more accustomed to the greater aggression and frenetic pace of the studio version. Here, John goes for that rhythmic blues pattern, into which George adds delicious, distortion-laden arrangements that descend like slow flames. Perhaps the most radical change is the bass line, simpler and slower, with lovely scales in the bridges. Very, very slow, and with that, it loses some of its edge. It's closer to how it originated in India, although with too many horns, which slow it down even more and make it an elephantine track, and not in a good way. But if you ask me, it's still one of John's best lyrics, forever and ever. With or without the Beatles. It emphasizes the political charge and is an incredible snapshot of the turbulent world in 1968. It's a dagger with every verse: are you a revolutionary or not? “You say you'll change the constitution, Well you know, We all want to change your head.” John would later regret the verse about Mao, as he ended up respecting the Chinese Cultural Revolution imposed by Mao, but in the song, he addresses him in the second verse, which corresponds to the derogatory part. The LP version is take 20. For the single, Paul and George insisted it was too slow, so they re-recorded it at a faster tempo, giving it more power. “Hey Jude/Revolution” has to be one of the best singles in history.
Then there's "Honey Pie", another Paul Music Hall number, which takes us back to that classy 1940s style that dominated England and was often played at the McCartneys' house when they were children. The song is lovely, initially dominated by the piano, until it picks up the rhythm and the clarinet arrangements take over. George plays bass here, and John delivers that curious guitar solo at 1:30. The lyrics are also fun, telling the story of a working-class British girl who goes to Hollywood in search of glory and stardom. A light, fun, and harmless song.
Next up is “Savoy Truffle”, another George song, with a very cool vibe, full of guitars, a colossal horn section that foreshadows the colossal atmospheres of All Things Must Pass, and those gorgeous falsettos in the choruses. It's definitely not one of Harrison's best-known songs, but it's good; at least the instrumentation is very cool. Perhaps it's somewhat underrated because of the inconsequential lyrics. The title comes from Eric Clapton's addiction to chocolate, and particularly truffles, and the lyrics were taken from a magazine that lists a bunch of different kinds of chocolate. Pretty superficial by George's standards, haha. John didn't participate in the recording.
Then comes “Cry, Baby Cry”, a lovely John ballad with acoustic guitar, to which piano and a delightful Hammond organ are gradually added. John had this song since '67, but it didn't fit the spirit of Pepper's. This was the last track Geoff Emerick worked on as an engineer, as he grew tired of Paul's obsessions and contradictory demands and quit the rest of the recording. The lyrics are quite unusual, a kind of satire of royalty, though he never offered much explanation. At the end, there's a brief segment by Paul called "Can You Take Me Back," which apparently was another song they never finished, but they added a short snippet of it.
Then there's the horrible, nauseating, disgusting "Revolution #9". Eight minutes of torture in a directionless, experimental pseudo-collage. It was originally going to be in the middle of "Revolution #1," but they managed to dissuade John, and it was split into two pieces. I won't waste any more bits on this piece of garbage. I'll just say that I prefer "Revolution #8" by the Borbotones.
The album closes with “Good Night”, a lovely lullaby sung by Ringo. John wrote the song for Julian, but it definitely suits Starr's deep voice very well, and he's actually the only Beatle to appear on the recording. The classical instrumentation is intentionally in the style of old Hollywood, even including very fitting female backing vocals. A beautiful ebb and flow of violins. The song is innocent, delicate, and undeniably charming, although it feels like a weak ending to the album.
Anyway. A great album. Can you think of a better double album than this? I can't. Maybe All Things Must Pass, but that was a triple. Ha! The backbone of the album is a tremendous collection of classics, with several of the quartet's best songs. The weaker or average tracks are still mostly good, and they give the album greater diversity and flow. Curiously, the two B-sides are the ones that contain the weakest songs. The only downside is "#9," John's biggest blunder with the Beatles. That, and the fact that it's the beginning of the end. But even with that, I don't think it detracts from the greatness of this album, and that well-deserved 10. The cover and the subsequent nickname "White Album" come from the fact that John originally wanted the cover to be a photo of him and Yoko naked. Grotesque! Fortunately, they managed to censor it, and the cover was released in a very simple way: a white background with the words The Beatles in small gray letters.
A historic album. George Starostin says it's a small encyclopedia of rock. He couldn't have described it better. Not just a must-have, but an album that defined an era, set an incredibly high standard for double albums, and would eventually become iconic.
By Corvan
Aug/27/2012
