the white album (1968)
Artist: The Beatles
Release date: November 22, 1968
Label: Apple Records
producer: George Martin
Genres: Rock, Pop music, Folk music
I have a sentimental relationship with The White Album. Every time someone asks me what my favorite Beatles album is, I always mention this one.
I got into The this album at 17 years old. I was a senior in high school and I just learned how to drive. I was the only girl in my school who drove herself to class, so you can imagine how cool I felt.
During that period, I was always playing The White Album in my car. When I think of this album, I remember my sleep-deprived mornings on the way to homeroom. I’d have instant coffee in my ceramic Krispy Kreme tumbler, stuck in traffic like a mid-level manager on her way to a hard day’s work.
Driving alone was truly the moment I came of age.
And because The White Album was a big part of my adolescence, I know it like the back of my hand.
The White Album is the Beatles longest and most diverse album in their catalog. It was recorded in 1968 after their trip to India for a Meditation course with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. This India trip had a huge influence on the album; 19 out of 30 songs were written during that three-month period.
1968 was also the year of rising tension among the band members: creative differences, personal dramas, external pressures, and such. They were struggling to keep the ship tight after their manager, Brian Epstein, died in ‘67.
if you know anything about rock history, the band with the most drama end up creating the best music. I don’t know why that is, but it’s definitely the case with the Beatles. A lot of people agree that The White Album is one of the greatest albums of all time.
At the same time, not every song is a winner. Considering its length, there are a few bad apples.
Because I admire them so much, I’m going to comment on each and every song. It’s gonna be a long ride, so trap in.
Disc 1
Back in the U.S.S.R.
Given that this is my favorite album, This is not the song I wanted to kick off with.
Back in the U.S.S.R. is meant to parody Chuck Berry’s Back in the U.S.A. and The Beach Boys’ California Girls. It mocks the idealized Americana of the early '60s. McCartney thought it would be fun to incorporate Russian themes amid the Cold War—portraying the Soviet Union as a vacation spot and getting overly excited about Ukrainian girls.
I get the irony, but I’m not vibing with it.
Technically, they did everything right: tongue-in-cheek lyrics, blending different genres together, high-energy rock 'n' roll music…
But it’s as though the concept of the song is more enticing than the song itself. The juxtaposition of surf rock and U.S.S.R. motifs doesn’t land well.
Oh well. At least it’s done and over with.
Dear Prudence
Unlike the confusing energy from the first track, I know exactly how I feel about this one:
It’s one of the best on the album.
Prudence Farrow, sister of actress Mia Farrow, was team buddies with John and George in Maharishi’s meditation camp. She had a traumatic experience with LSD and became overly dedicated to meditation, even locking herself in her room for days to achieve an enlightened state.
Dear Prudence is John and George’s way of telling her to open up to the world again, to go outside because she’s already a part of everything.
I’d die happy if the Beatles did the same gesture for me.
The writing is innocent and tender, and the musical composition makes you feel like you’re in a dream.
It captures the vibe of '60s Indian spirituality, which, if you know me, is right up my alley.
Glass Onion
The Beatles were known for writing lyrics that were absolutely nonsensical. A big part of their appeal was that they were wisecrackers who never took anything too seriously.
Glass Onion is a response to those who read too much into their lyrics—those who think every word is coded with hidden meanings or that the real message is revealed when played backwards.
This song is Lennon’s way of saying, “It ain’t that deep.”
He references several of their previous songs: Strawberry Fields Forever, I Am the Walrus, Fixing a Hole, fool on the Hill, and Lady Madonna.
I love the poetry, meta-commentary, and self-reference in Glass Onion. I also take pleasure in Lennon’s sarcasm—when he’s a bit of a dick.
Musically, though, it’s a bit forgettable. The only thing special about this track are the words.
Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da
This is a good fucking song: the narrative-driven lyrics, the circus-like instrumentation, the reggae-Jamaican ska rhythms? It’s hard to believe there were so many heated disagreements behind this track.
It also makes for a solid pop song. It has a standard structure with verse-chorus sections; “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, life goes on” is a catchy, memorable hook; and the vibe is bouncy enough to make you want to sing it drunk with a crowd. It has Paul Mccartney written all over it.
I guess that’s why John was critical of it—it wasn’t the direction he wanted for the album. This is where the tension between the duo comes into play: one wants to be more experimental, the other more commercial.
I enjoy both styles, but I get the dilemma.
oh well… Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.
Wild Honey Pie
This song gets a lot of shit from fans and critics. Author Mark Hertsgaard calls it "the most extreme case of self-indulgence on the album."
Personally, I don’t hate it. I do find it a bit pointless, but it’s not terrible for a filler track. I’ve always thought of it as a wackier version of Honey Pie.
That said, I would probably swap the placements of Wild Honey Pie and Honey Pie—giving more spotlight to the latter. It doesn’t make sense to me that this song comes before the “real” song.
Maybe the reason I can stand Wild Honey Pie is that it’s only 52 seconds long. If it were any longer, I’d probably be more annoyed.
The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill
The Beatles loved alliterations: Sexy Sadie, Rocky Raccoon, Polythene Pam, Mean Mr. Mustard…
And here we have Bungalow Bill—a man who shoots tigers just for the thrill of it. The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill was inspired by a guy in Maharishi’s ashram who would take breaks to go hunting. Lennon was disturbed by this man’s self-destructive hobby, and wrote the song to mock his bravado and self-important attitude.
While Bungalow Bill presents itself as a children’s song, it’s also a critique of naive adventurism and delusional masculinity. The references to animals, jungles, and Captain Marvel make it all feel cartoonish.
I don’t count it as a favorite, but I appreciate it a lot. It’s fun and intelligent.
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
This is undoubtedly the best song on the album.
It’s no secret that Harrison was undergoing a spiritual awakening during this period. “gently weeps” came from the I Ching, which gives the impression he was into some pretty occult stuff.
While this was happening, he was unlocking more of his songwriting and musical talent—the inevitable effects of enlightenment. Excellent for George!
But there was a trade-off: his newfound creativity was being overlooked by the group. The Beatles were initially apathetic toward this song, which tells me they didn’t fully understand George’s artistic depth and potential.
Harrison channels his feelings of isolation within the band through this song. It refers not only to creative isolation but also to spiritual isolation.
This song is an emotional experience—the guitar is, in fact, weeping. George’s vocal delivery is superb; it conveys a sense of grief over how everyone’s still asleep to universal love.
Regardless of the fact that I relate to this song on a personal level, While My Guitar Gently Weeps is objectively a masterpiece.
Happiness is a Warm Gun
A very close runner-up to While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Happiness is a Warm Gun is the most complex song on the album, both structurally and lyrically.
Commentators say the song is about guns, sex, and maybe even John’s heroin addiction. He denies the last part, but I’m not convinced at all.
Either way, the lyrics are mystifying:
"She's well-acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd with the multicolored mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the National Trust"
Who even writes like this? John fucking Lennon.
And his vocals when he sings "And when I feel my finger on your trigger"? Very provocative.
Harrison also brought his A-game here, with all the riffs, solos, and sitar (Let’s not forget how complicated Indian classical music can be.)
A very rich piece of work—and the most enigmatic.
Martha My Dear
Martha My Dear is a quintessential Paul McCartney song: whimsical yet complex, sentimental yet lighthearted, musically adventurous yet maintaining pop sensibilities.
It’s an under-appreciated song in the Beatles' catalogue.
The track begins with an elegant piano arrangement, gradually building to a more grandiose midsection with brass, drums, and strings—almost like a marching band. The whole piece carries a classical and baroque feel.
I would play Martha My Dear in my wedding. She’s elegant, classy, and full of character.
I’m So Tired
This song defined my entire high school senior year. I was always tired.
I’m So Tired was written three weeks into Lennon’s stay in India. By then, he had cut himself off from all alcohol and drugs, and reported suffering from insomnia, which drove him to write the song.
It looks like his demons were surfacing in the detox process because it definitely shows in this song.
I love Lennon’s vocal delivery on this track. You can feel his frustration and dread. It’s not just physical exhaustion but an existential one. He was dealing with a lot of internal turmoil: his affair outside of his marriage, the tension within the band, and his disillusionment with the world around him.
I’m So Tired feels like a mental breakdown—first, you're checked out, and then you fucking lose it all of a sudden.
Only Lennon could pull this off among the four of them. Not to romanticize a cliché, but his emotional fragility was his signature.
Blackbird
Blackbird is the first song I ever learned to fingerpick.
I don’t connect with it as deeply as others, but I see its beauty. It’s simple, yet profound. It’s a message of hope and resilience, even when you feel a little bit broken inside.
I love how it’s placed right after I’m So Tired. While nihilistic John is on the verge of going mad, positive Paul follows up by saying, “everything’s going to be alright.”
Blackbird feels like a small poetry book—cozy, timeless, and minimalist.
Piggies
From birds, we’re moving on to pigs.
Piggies is kind of like Back in the U.S.S.R. to me: technically excellent, but misses the mark.
That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it. Piggies is a counterculture song masked as a tale about innocent pigs. The baroque pop composition and double entendre lyrics shouldn’t be left unnoticed.
Rocky Raccoon
Rocky Raccoon has a coherent narrative: a man challenges another man to a showdown because he stole the "girl of his fancy."
We’ve heard this story before, but the way McCartney tells it is memorable. His playful word choices make the story so absurd that its endearing:
“Rocky Raccoon checked into his room
Only to find Gideon’s Bible
Rocky had come equipped with a gun
To shoot off the legs of his rival
His rival, it seems, had broken his dreams
By stealing the girl of his fancy
Her name was Magill, and she called herself Lil
But everyone knew her as Nancy”
You can count on the Beatles to write such ridiculous slapsticks. It’s obvious that McCartney was poking fun at Western tropes.
Another interesting element is the honky-tonk piano played by producer George Martin, adding even more whimsy to the track.
Rocky Raccoon is the perfect palate cleanser after all the political, social, and psychological talk from the preceding tracks. After all that seriousness, we needed a bit of silliness to balance things out.
Don’t Pass me By
Finally, a Ringo song.
Comparing to others, Don’t Pass me by isn’t as complex. It’s a simple, country-esque song about yearning and heartbreak.
Don’t pass me By is very much like Ringo’s drumming: reliable, straightforward, and unpretentious. It’s easy to connect with because you know exactly what he’s saying.
Ringo’s vocals are rough around the edges, which gives the song an earnest, sincere quality. The fiddle in the background adds to the Western, melancholic vibe.
But also it doesn’t go full country—it still has that unmistakable Beatles touch.
I can always count on Don’t Pass Me By when I’m feeling the blues.
Why Don’t We Do It in the Road?
This is the laziest song in the album.
I see what Mccartney was getting at. He wanted a song that expressed freedom, spontaneity, recklessness, and our primitive instincts to fuck.
But the repetitive lyrics aren’t impressive. Inuendos are a hit or miss, and this one is a miss. Intriguing impetus, boring execution.
I love Paul dearly, but Why Don’t We Do it in the Road? is a senseless track.
I Will
All things considered, it’s clever how a prudish, boy-next-door song follows right after a sexually suggestive track.
I Will is yet another one of McCartney’s “silly love songs.” He gets a lot of flack for being too bubblegum and saccharine.
But the man can’t help it—he’s really good at writing cheesy love songs.
This track speaks to timeless, romantic love. It’s perhaps the most uncomplicated song on the album. The production is minimal, allowing McCartney’s sweet vocals and acoustic guitar to shine through.
the song is a bit of a cliché, but clichés are clichés because they’re relatable.
Julia
Between Julia and I will, I will have to pick Julia (see what I did there, lol.)
Julia is a beautiful tribute to Lennon’s late mother, Julia, while also drawing from his love for Yoko.
Before this album, Lennon wrote many other vulnerable songs: I’m a Loser, Help, No Reply, You Can’t Do That, to name a few. His dark lyrics often got overshadowed by the upbeat tempo of the band's music.
But in Julia, there’s no hiding. It’s the only song on a Beatles album where Lennon played and sang unaccompanied, making it all the more intimate and personal. His voice is as delicate as his guitar picking—like a perfect lullaby. The lyrics carry a deep yearning for something familiar, yet lost.
You could say Julia is a precursor to his prolific solo career. Hate on Ono all you want, but she was a force to be reckoned in John’s musical and creative growth.
dISC 2
Birthday
I wouldn’t play this song on my birthday.
Birthday is A song that may sound lively and animated, but is hard to appreciate. It's not memorable enough, and honestly, it’s the track I’m most apathetic about on the album.
Yer Blues
I never realized how alarming these lyrics were.
Yer Blues was one of the songs written in India, and I’m not surprised at all. Seeking spiritual enlightenment is beautiful, but depressing—especially when you’re meditating for 8 hours a day.
Lennon was confronting a lot of dark shit during his spiritual voyage. Along with I’m So Tired, Yer Blues showcases his existential distress:
"Yes, I'm lonely, wanna die
Yes, I'm lonely, wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Girl, you know the reason why"
And then, he goes on to express feeling suicidal.
Artists tend to hide behind metaphors and allegories. While Lennon does that a lot, he’s also not afraid to tell it like it is—no matter how ugly it sounds.
And yet, Yer Blues isn’t completely earnest. Lennon composed it to mock white people singing the blues. To me, it doesn’t sound like a parody at all. It actually sounds pretty authentic and groovy.
Though their intentions were different, Yer Blues captures the spirit of the blues accurately: painful lyrics, wailing vocals, and gritty solos.
Mother Nature’s Son
Mother Nature’s Son is inspired by a Maharishi lecture about the natural world. When I listen to this song, I remember my trip to Bali and all its serene landscapes.
This song is the White Album’s nature trip. It comes in to ground us back to earth after exploring so many different styles and directions.
Overall, it’s a quintessential ‘60s hippie song. The beauty, truly, is in its simplicity.
Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and my Monkey
What an odd song title. It reminds me of those emo song titles from the 2000s (e.g. Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off, I’m Like a Lawyer with the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off).
Unlike Yer Blues, Everybody’s Got Something to Hide isn’t as blunt. It’s a cryptic head-scratcher that leaves you kinda puzzled.
Personally, though, I think it’s a heroin song mixed with social critique.
I don’t hate or love it, but I appreciated it better as a teenager. I liked how I didn’t know what the hell John was talking about.
Sexy Sadie
Back in the day, I thought Sadie was this femme fatale, so irresistible that men would sink to their own demise for her.
I’m not completely off, Except it wasn’t about some dangerous siren, but about their infamous guru, Maharishi. Lennon felt blindsided learning that he made sexual advances to actress Mia Farrow.
Some of the original lyrics went, “Maharishi, you little twat / Who the fuck do you think you are?”
If Lennon had led with that and made his contempt toward Maharishi more overt, I would’ve still appreciated it.
Nonetheless, Sexy Sadie is perfect as is. It’s snarky and edgy. The backing vocals from Paul and George add a psychedelic flair to the song without going overboard with it.
Helter Skelter
Helter Skelter is the closest I’ll ever get to enjoying heavy metal.
This song is the most audacious track on the album—it’s chaotic, loud, and dirty.
It. Fucking. Rocks.
I respect McCartney’s vision for this song and his response to critics who accused him of only writing sentimental ballads. He really grabbed them by the neck with this one.
There are three elements I appreciate most about Helter Skelter: the belting vocals, repetitive lyrics, and frantic drumming.
The band truly pushed their boundaries on Helter Skelter. This song makes me proud of their creative growth and is one of my favorites on the album.
Also, that “I’ve got blisters on my fingers” line from Ringo at the end? So punk rock.
Long, Long, Long
A song I took for granted for many years.
Long, Long, Long is the most mystical track on the album. It may seem like Harrison is referring to a woman, but he’s not. He’s referring to God—the highest manifestation of ‘the one.’
The song is like a hymn. The heartache when he sings “It’s been a long, long, long time” is palpable. It’s as if his most precious beloved was lost for many lifetimes, and finally found after so long.
The song is dreamy throughout, but the crescendo at the end is unsettling, which can mean many different things.
I think this track puts many of the other songs to shame. If there’s anyone in The Beatles who sings about truth, it’s not John. It’s George.
Revolution 1
I haven’t listened to Revolution 1 (or Revolution) in years, partly because I grew critical of Lennon’s political activism. I used to think there was something off about celebrities singing about complex political issues—a certain contradiction, a kind of ignorance.
But I listened to it again—and I actually like it. Not only that, I agree with the message.
Revolution 1 is a slower, more mellow version of the single Revolution. I think it was a smart choice to release an alternate take. It carries the same message, but the delivery feels more cautious—and dare I say, more mature.
I’ve grown out of my more aggressive political beliefs and become a pacifist, like Lennon. There’s truth in ignorance and ignorance in truth. My sentiments can be summed up in a quote from folksinger Joan Baez, as relayed by Joan Didion in Slouching Towards Bethlehem:
“Everybody says I’m politically naive, and I am,” she says after a while. It is something she says frequently to people she does not know. “So are the people running politics, or we wouldn’t be in wars, would we.”
Honey Pie
Now she’s hit the big time!
Honey Pie is a music-hall-inspired piece. The Beatles loved using pastiche to mock other genres, but in this one, it’s not a satire—it’s a genuine homage to John and Paul’s love for vaudeville.
The song has that old-school charm with its playful lyrics and jazzy arrangement. Not only is McCartney a musician, he’s also a performer. The way he executes the song feels like something straight out of a theater performance. It’s the “I like it like that, oh ah” bit that gets me.
Honey Pie is an ode to the past. Like a lot of art from bygone eras, it’s whimsical and a bit melodramatic. My favorite McCartney track on the album.
Savoy Truffle
If you haven’t taken George seriously yet as a songwriter, Savoy Truffle will do it for you. he doesn’t just write about God—he can write about obscure meta shit, too, just like John and Paul.
Though it’s inspired by Eric Clapton’s sweet tooth, all the references to food make it feel so sensual:
"Cool cherry cream, nice apple tart
I feel your taste all the time we're apart
Coconut fudge - really blows down those blues"
It reminds me of that scene in 10 Things I Hate About You when the guidance counselor is writing erotic fiction.
Whether it’s meant as an innuendo or not, Savoy Truffle is my kind of weird. I’ll rock out harder to this than Back in the U.S.S.R. The brass and guitar solo make me want to scream (in a good way).
Cry Baby Cry
The way John sings this is aloof and distant, almost checked out. His writing is cryptic, laced with royal imagery—a king, queen, and Duke all caught up in their own affairs while a baby cries in the chorus, almost as if it's ignored.
What ties this song together, though, is the last part—the part where Paul sings:
"Can you take me back where I came from?
Can you take me back?
Can you take me back where I came from?
Brahma, can you take me back?"
this bit is what makes the narrative. Suddenly, we’re left wondering: who’s the baby?
My take is that the baby could be all of them. They're caught up in keeping up appearances, all the while longing for a time when they didn’t need to—which is to say, before they were even born.
It’s haunting stuff. I don’t think they intended it to be that deep, but it works.
Revolution 9
If there’s any self-indulgent track on The White Album, it’s this one.
I’ve never fully listened to Revolution 9 in its entirety. It’s one of those avant-garde experiments by John and Yoko that I never got.
The couple wanted to create a more abstract version of Revolution through a collage of random sounds. But Revolution 9 isn’t a Beatles track; It’s a John and Yoko track. Although the White Album is considered their most eclectic album, this recording is out of place. There’s nothing in it that indicates that it’s a Beatles song.
But… I would still keep it in the album. not because I find it amazing, but because it adds to the band’s lore. Ever since John met Yoko, he’s been drifting apart from the band artistically. by including Revolution 9, we’re given a contrast between John’s evolving creative desires and the band’s musical direction at that time.
I also know Lennon had this intense fascination with the number 9. Later in his life, he got into numerology. He was born on October 9, 1940; his street address was 9 Newcastle Road; he took the number 72 bus to the Liverpool Art College (7 + 2 = 9); and, of course, he wrote multiple songs that referenced the number 9—The One After 909, #9 Dream, and this one.
As a past new-ager, I can’t help but eat this up whenever it pops up.
Good Night
An appropriate title, because it puts me to sleep.
Though it’s a tender lullaby for John’s five-year-old son, Good Night is mediocre compared to the rest of the album. Like Revolution 9, it doesn’t belong to the album. If it came on the radio, I wouldn’t have guessed it was a Beatles song.
But like the preceding track, I’d still keep it. After all the chaos, experimentation, and sonic variety the album offers, Good Night is a gentle landing after a punk-ass experience.
The White album has many contradictions, but one thing is for sure: it’s a beast that deserves its mark in rock ‘n’ roll history. If I can only listen to one album for the rest of my life, it would be this one.
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Thank you for reading my entire review. are you a Beatles fan? What do you think of the White Album? Let’s chat.
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