Tuesday, November 13, 2018

Celebrating the White Album "May it serve you well."




   
photo by Keith Priser of Sally Priser's original release.
    On November 22, 1968 the Beatles released their first album as a group on their own record label “Apple”. It was catalogued as “The Beatles” but quickly became more commonly referred to as “The White Album” due to its white cover. Upon hearing it for the first time in 1968 when I was thirteen my impression was that it seemed to be a return to the Beatles natural progression in recording. While I regard “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” very highly, that album seems to be an explorative interruption from their more straightforward type of recording which had been absent the wizardry and gimmickry of studio tape manipulation. Not that Revolver or White Album contain no tape manipulation at all, “Tomorrow Never Knows” on Revolver is very studio-deep. It’s just that Sgt. Pepper exuberated on such technical aspects.
    On “The White Album” we hear a return to very strong vocals uncluttered of studio effect. There are hard-rock moments such as “Helter Skelter”, “Back in the USSR”. George continues with his religious “Long, Long, Long”. And Ringo closes the album with a John Lennon song “Good Night” which sounds like a family movie soundtrack.
    It was 1968. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy had been killed. NASA had landed a spacecraft on the surface of the moon and returned it to Earth (this was a trial run before they sent humans). John Carlos had attracted attention for his Black Power salute on the podium having won a gold medal at the Olympics. The movie “Wild in the Streets” had been released.
   The world, for this thirteen-year-old, had become intriguingly sophisticated in science and radicalized in politics. “The White Album” in all of its lyrics, instrumentation, and topics, seemed a concurrent musical articulation of the events which were emerging in history.
   While the Beatles of 1964-1966 offered a stage-performance focus on writing and recording which was light on ego, and Sgt. Pepper” was the artistic manifestation of the group’s collective ego, “The White Album” seemed to reconnect with the simple idea of album as a collection of individual songs unrelated to each other. The listener was relieved of the expectation to discover some ambiguous theme as was the case with Sgt. Pepper.
    After “Sgt. Pepper” I had expected the Beatles would continue toward yet more experimental recording, perhaps more deeply into philosophical and religious material. All summer in 1968 I had read reports of the Bealtes, their wives, and friends studying under the Maharishi. My anticipation as to what the next album would contain intrigued me and tickled my sense of imminent discovery. Though the “White Album” did not deliver on my expectations, it nonetheless was consistent with the Beatles knack for remaining relevant and timely to a broad audience.
  Mostly, “The White Album” was a return to the “Beatle Formula” (evasive as that is to define), with the additional attribute of being super-loaded with personal ego of the individuals.
   The singular exception to the “Beatle Formula” on this album is “Revolution Number 9”. A sound-collage of various recordings, it seems more appropriate to be on John and Yoko’s “Two Virgins” album. And yet, I grant that “Number 9” permits the “White Album” a bit of mystique it would otherwise lack.
   Please don’t take it that I insult the album. I love it! And this post is intended to celebrate the album.
 On November 22, take some time to listen to the whole album, or any part of it and “tune in” to the youth revolution of 1968!
 “May it serve you well!”

I invite you to read the review of the album by Jann Wenner of Rolling Stone Magazine dated December 21, 1968: