Reinterpreting a classic artist’s repertoire has a failure rate worse than that of the restaurant industry, but someone is always trying. It wouldn’t be the first time the Beatles got ‘the treatment’, but this one, Love, is generating a great deal of noise. Even though George Martin oversaw production, thereby giving it credence, I am going to hate it until further notice. Follow me, ye purists, and let’s wander back to a time when mash-up meant something brawlers did at the pub…

No cover art, and no real name, the Beatles’ self-titled double-album (which will henceforth be called by its common name) rounds out more Top-10-favorite-album lists than any other release from the Four Lads. Where Sgt. Pepper is dated, and Abbey Road drops ‘Octopus’s Garden’ in an irony-free setting, The White Album need make no excuses for any shortcomings. It has a critical immunity to it, and even the most jaded hipster can find something to enjoy in the White Album that eludes him or her throughout the rest of the Beatles’ catalogue.

But not for all… I grew up in a household that was soundtracked by The Beatles, save The White Album material. Whenever I make a Beatles mix for Dad, he tells me to go heavy on the old stuff, “and maybe a few off of Abbey Road and Let it Be”. He had not heard most of the cuts off the White Album until I bought it for him on his 53^rd birthday; there is still no evidence that he’s played it through, and less that he liked the experience if he did. No, it is ‘too weird’, which is strange since ‘I Am the Walrus’ is one of his favorites. But then again, there are songs like ‘Wild Honey Pie’ and ‘Revolution No. 9’ that fall not only under the ‘weird’ category, but they also categorically suck, and are there to piss off all but the most hardcore fans.

But whenever someone complains that, “track-such-and-such is crap,” the immediate response is, “oh, come on… it’s THE WHITE ALBUM,” where all flaws are forgivable, given the payoff of the songs that work (which is most of them).

This record is where Lennon really shows up McCartney. Granted, Paul gave us the boisterous ‘Helter Skelter’, but that song has always left me dry because it was written simply to out-pummel the Who. McCartney wasn’t tearing the roof off as a matter of course, but had to be shamed into it. He scores big on the civil-rights-celebration ‘Blackbird’, which also stands as ‘#1 Most Likely Song to be Played by a Guy With a Guitar at a Party’, but his other contributions pave the way for the horror that would be Wings. But this is Paul McCartney - he’s always been the kind of guy to think about turning 64 while his friends are off getting better all the time. Even if it doesn’t hold a candle to ‘Happiness is a Warm Gun’, ‘Martha My Dear’ is wholly appropriate for this album. Out-of-place both in song-order, and in the year it was written, therein lies the beauty of The White Album.

Then there’s Lennon, portending the style to emerge on the jarring Plastic Ono Band. Nearly every one of his offerings is a gem (save the aforementioned electronic noise and maybe one or two others), especially ‘Dear Prudence’, and the under-appreciated ‘Sexy Sadie’. Not the best song on the album, but I love ‘I’m So Tired’ in part because it isn’t about being sleepy.

Even Ringo’s lone contribution is listenable. Of all his songwriting efforts, ‘Don’t Pass Me By’ is my favorite, even though it is still one of the album’s low points. But it does have the phrase:

That Ringo, what a cut-up!

Of course, this is the album where George Harrison broke out, dare I say, ahead of both of the primary composers. All of his contributions, particularly the palmary ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’, stand beside or above the work of the other two. Then there’s ‘Piggies’… ah, nothing like mean-spirited and grinning loath of the middle class.

But does the mere fact that the Beatles consciously focused on composition and not psychedelic drivel make The White Album as timeless as it has become? Well, yes, because the songs are that good, and though they are more ‘important’ given that they were written at the height of bad psychedelia (take for example, that song by The Electric Prunes that plays when Hopper and Fonda are in the whorehouse in Easy Rider), the songs stand up outside of the context of 1968. Vaudeville in the late 60’s, vaudeville whenever… ‘Honey Pie’ is a fun song from any era.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and The White Album has one of the worst in rock ‘n roll. But goddamn if it isn’t forgivable again. It’s not that Lennon and Yoko were trying too hard to impress when they assembled nine minutes of infuriating electronic rubbish and titled it ‘Revolution No. 9′ – they just didn’t care that it would be reviled. It’s supposed to mean something, damn it, and is too easy to hate for it to be worth hating. Then, after enduring John & Yoko’s experiment at our expense, Ringo bleats his way through the second-worst Lennon song on the album, ‘Goodnight’; the juxtaposition is impressive, but nowhere near as profound a finale as that on Sgt. Pepper, Abbey Road or Revolver.

No, I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. These are trivial matters in the same way that couples find their lover’s quirks and idiosyncrasies to be far more annoying and significant than they should be. Mine has been a love affair with this album since buying it used from the local head shop, and with my parental exceptions, the experience should have been the very same for all who have picked it up (which is everybody, right?). The array of sound and style saved not only the album, but the Beatles’ legacy, which would have diminished had the album been another attempt to push the boundaries of acid pop. It’s strange that by focusing on song writing and not mind-fucking the listener, the band was actually taking a giant step forward.

Maybe we should give Love a chance, because the Beatles have seldom truly disappointed their fans, with the notable exception of The Beatles’ Anthology. But until I have the moxie to pony up to the new release, at least there’s always The White Album…

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