Every Song on The White Album, Ranked

For the entire month of April, I embarked on a self-imposed journey through The Beatles’ career in meticulous detail. The goal was ranking their 13 studio albums (which I accomplished, if you wanna read it here), and as you might expect, it was one of the most endlessly interesting deep dives I’ve ever done for this blog. Over the course of my research, however, I became infatuated with one record in particular — an album I’d spent the majority of my adult life disregarding.

The Beatles (AKA The White Album) is infamously divisive for fans and historians alike. A gargantuan double LP (30 tracks, 94 minutes), it’s an intentionally indefinable display of The Beatles at their most disparate, angry, and wayward. This mentality came as a result of increasing behind-the-scenes tumult. Having tragically lost their manager Brian Epstein mere months after the astronomical success of Sgt. Pepper, the band entered a tailspin of drug-use, infighting, and poor business practices that would eventually culminate in their acrimonious dissolution 3 years later.

It’s also when they made some of the best music in history.

Primarily written during a transcendental retreat in Rishikesh, India; better conceived during rehearsals at George Harrison’s home; and largely self-produced over the course of five months — The White Album bristles with the tension of a band on the brink of disaster. Their songwriting process had become far less collaborative at this point, with each member now largely preferring to toil away in the studio on their lonesome. The resulting music is uncompromisingly diverse, once again breaking the mold for how 60’s bands were “supposed” to operate. Don’t let the lack of cover-art fool you: The Beatles is all about coloring outside the lines.

So, in honor of such a fascinating album (as well as to capitalize on my recent hyperfixation with it), I’m going to be ranking all 30 songs on The Beatles (White Album) from worst to best. It’s an exciting prospect — unlike some of other rankings I’ve done, opinions on these songs are wildly unpredictable. Ask anyone who’s heard it: The White Album has plenty of highs and lows. With my placements, I’ll do my best to consider the band’s career and impact at large, but the vast majority of this list will simply be a reflection of my personal rotation. Hopefully you agree, and if you’ve never taken the time to dive into The White Album, this article can serve as a beginner’s guide to understanding the beautiful, beautiful mess that it is.

Now, without further ado…

30. Wild Honey Pie

I think anyone who’s ever heard The White Album remembers the first time their listening-experience was derailed by this disaster. 52-seconds off-key guitars and Paul repeatedly wailing “honey piiiiie;” it’s memorable in the worst possible way. Although mercifully brief, “Wild Honey Pie” borders on unlistenable. It’s forgivable as a piece of studio experimentation (which it was), but as 1/94th of The White Album’s already over-inflated runtime? Yeah, I’m good. Fun fact: the only reason it even made the cut was because George’s wife, Pattie Boyd, really liked it. Good for her — if only a single other person could relate.

29. Revolution 9

In theory, “Revolution 9” is the sort of balls-to-the-wall statement you have to respect. The biggest band in history releasing eight minutes of musique concrète as the penultimate track to their biggest LP? That’s bold. Too bad, in practice, the song kinda sucks. Inspired by the likes of Karlheinz Stockhausen as well as his newfound lover, Yoko Ono, John Lennon’s experimental pet project is infamous for deterring many a casual fan (and even some diehards). It’s just a whole lot of… nothing. Despite the clear passion poured into the track, it ends up an aimless jumble of random sounds that fails to innovate or impress in any meaningful way. “Revolution 9” deserves props for introducing millions of listeners to avant garde music; it’s a shame it had to be such a bad first impression.

28. Don’t Pass Me By

As a proud Ringo-defender, it pains me to say this… but his first ever writing credit on a Beatles album is pretty dang weak. “Don’t Pass Me By” dates as far back as 1962, where it cooked on Ringo’s back-burner for six years before finally coming to life. The recording was apparently a rushed and half-assed affair (George and John weren’t even present), but that doesn’t account for the song’s inherent shoddiness. Ringo’s songwriting simply leaves a lot to be desired, and while the honky-tonk schtick is fun enough at first, the nearly 4-minute runtime drains it of any enjoyment. Sorry, Ring, but this is a White Album stinker that I will, sadly, always want to pass by.

27. Why Don’t We Do It In the Road?

Just like “Wild Honey Pie,” this song’s baffling eccentricities can be traced back to its creation as an extraneous solo effort. Allegedly inspired by Paul witnessing two monkeys getting it on in the streets of Rishikesh; it makes sense that a juvenile fascination would result in such a juvenile composition. There’s fun to be had here, with a rollicking groove and comically repetitive lyrics, but it feels like nothing more than an ad-break when compared to the rest of The White Album.

26. Good Night

The worst thing about The White Album’s closing track is how good it almost is. “Good Night” would have worked as an earnest lullaby written, but it seems like John Lennon’s reputation as a forward-thinking provocateur got the better of him. This song feels sabotaged by a distinct lack of sincerity, almost as if its creators were embarrassed to have made something so unambitiously pleasant. George Martin’s orchestral accompaniment does all of the heavy lifting here, but Ringo’s lackluster vocals shoot the track’s potential in the foot. My ears will forever yearn to hear the fabled Lennon-solo version, but until then, I’ll stick to being disappointed with what we got.

25. Mother Nature’s Son

We’ve entered the territory of White Album songs that aren’t bad in any sort of quantifiable way, but simply fail to leave much of an impact. “Mother Nature’s Son” feels like Paul McCartney on autopilot, never really venturing anywhere interesting or settling into anything very catchy. It’s pretty enough — an ode to nature written during the band’s stay in India — but I tend to forget about this song’s existence mere seconds after I’ve heard it.

24. Long, Long, Long

After the blistering assault that is “Helter Skelter,” this song feels like a warm cup of tea and a kiss on the forehead. It’s also pretty damn boring. George’s vocals are barely audible as they eke out over a woozy keyboard, and while the energy lifts to a mild crescendo at one point, it quickly settles back into monotony. Many Beatles fans herald this song as a criminally underrated gem in George’s songwriting career, but “Long, Long, Long” just doesn’t scratch enough of my own personal itches to be anything more than a lull in The White Album.

23. Revolution 1

It might be an unfair assessment, but it’s basically impossible to not compare the White Album version of “Revolution” to its far superior single. Lennon’s cry for social upheaval simply sounds less pressing when paired with a loping tempo and cutesy guitar strums — not to mention his confusing lack of commitment when it comes to making an actual statement (i.e: the idiotic fence-riding of “count me out-in”). The melody is, of course, inescapably catchy, but there’s a distinctly undercooked quality to “Revolution 1” which slots it in the lower half of the White Album’s overall track-list.

22. The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill

Written to mock an American guest who killed a tiger during John’s stay in Rishikesh, “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill” is the White Album at its most sardonic and sneering. The “heroic” actions of our tale’s blundering protagonist feel all the more absurd when paired with canned trumpets and a sing-along tone. The best thing about “Bungalow Bill” is its jeering theatricality (shoutout Yoko’s squeaky cameo as Bill’s mommy), but the lack of genuine substance holds it back from being ranked any higher.

21. Yer Blues

In a 2022 documentary, Ringo Starr warmly remembered “Yer Blues” as the song that kept The Beatles together while making the White Album. Recorded spontaneously in an Abbey Road storage room, the track captures the spirit of the Fab Four as they were in the sweaty backrooms of Hamburg and Liverpool. Sentiments aside, it’s an unadventurous composition which drags on a little too long, but hearing the lads jamming together is a power too palpable to write off completely.

20. Birthday

Speaking of rock ‘n’ roll throwbacks, “Birthday” is a Macca homage to the piano-slamming likes of Little Richard and Fats Domino. While not as well-known as 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” or even the Red Robin jingle, The Beatles’ contribution to the birthday-song canon is still ludicrously catchy and bursting with energy. Written and recorded in a single day, it’s a joy to hear the lads having some fun together. The lyrics, while painfully simple, make the song’s intentions abundantly clear: “I’d like you to dance!”

19. Piggies

Considering how few songwriting contributions George Harrison was allowed to sneak onto Beatles albums, there’s something hilarious about “Piggies” making the cut. No shade — this song is a delightfully unexpected change-of-pace for The White Album. Atop hoighty-toighty harpsichords and Vivaldian string sections, George channels his inner political-cartoonist for an Orwellian portrayal of classism. His aristocratic affectation never gets old (“What they need’s a damn good whacking!”), but the song’s commentary is ultimately too superficial to ever feel like more than an enjoyable gimmick.

18. Honey Pie

The namesake behind the worst song on this list, “Honey Pie” is a blatant display of Paul’s vaudevillian sensibilities. His indulgences in said field are famously hit-or-miss (“Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”), but I’m proud to report that this one falls mostly on the side of lovably charming. The song’s vintage aesthetic is obviously its most defining quality, but it’s hard not to love the strutting rhythm and quintessential show-business narrative. As far as Beatles pastiches go, you can certainly do worse than “Honey Pie.”

17. Savoy Truffle

I’ll be the first to admit it: “Savoy Truffle” ranked this high purely by being so goddamn groovy. Lyrically, the track is a complete joke (a list of chocolate flavors, written to cheekily discourage Eric Clapton from consuming so many treats), but I’d be nitpicking if I said I was dissatisfied with the lack of profundity. The melody of this song is just so stinkin’ funky, calling upon rock organs and sax sections to breathe some much-needed vigor into The White Album’s fourth side.

16. Rocky Raccoon

Part folk-narrative parody, part country-homage, “Rocky Raccoon” is one of the weirdest songs on The White Album — and that’s saying something. Humorously circuitous in his storytelling, Macca’s tale of an incompetent cowboy trying to win back his lover is difficult to dislike. It’s a relatively unadorned cut, relying on simple guitar strums and a splash of saloon-style piano. There’s something so cheeky about weaving a long-winded yarn which ends in complete anti-climax, making the song a beautiful showing of The Beatles’ particular sense of humor.

15. Cry Baby Cry

Unlike the many odd flavors that make up the White Album, “Cry Baby Cry” is a fairly standard piano-rock composition. Nothing against it — this is the ideal deep cut for such an eclectic track-list. The demo-ish quality adds a great deal of sonic texture (especially those crunchy drums), and Lennon’s lyrics are characteristically profound in their absurdity. McCartney’s ad-libbed outro is a sudden but unobtrusive switch-up, one which partially prepares the listener for what’s about to ensue on “Revolution 9.”

14. I’m So Tired

Despite having ventured there seeking a peaceful new paradigm, John Lennon’s time in Rishikesh was ironically riddled with anxiety, malcontent, and insomnia. “I’m So Tired” is an obvious summation of those feelings, capturing the truly maddening nature of eye-gouging fatigue. Much like the irritability that comes from a lack of sleep, this track snaps seamlessly from loping exhaustion to manic desperation and back again. It’s a criminally underrated Lennon-gem, and one of his most universally relatable.

13. Sexy Sadie

The better of John Lennon’s Rishikesh diss-track duology, “Sexy Sadie” was written in a bitter rage hours before leaving the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi’s transcendental retreat. Having learned that about the sexual advances that the Mahrishi had made towards women at the ashram, John channeled his disappointment with his ex-guru into this snide middle-finger of a track. He can barely contain his disdain, only just hiding behind sarcastic “wah-wah-wahs” and a head-nodding piano-line. To anyone not in the know, “Sexy Sadie” can fly under the radar as a fun-enough rock track — and that’s exactly what makes it so deliciously scathing.

12. I Will

Of the several Paul McCartney song-sketches which pop up throughout The White Album, nothing compares to the understated appeal of “I Will.” Built upon a head-nodding rhythm reminiscent of bossa nova, the central melody of this song is so good that it feels familiar before you’ve ever even heard it. It’s one of the most unabashedly charming songs The Beatles ever made, beaming with the sheepish excitement of young lovers sharing a summer together. Pure, perfect, and prompt — “I Will” is one of the only White Album songs I’d be willing to let carry on just a bit longer.

11. Glass Onion

As John Lennon’s artistic horizons were expanding towards his eventual role as a politically-minded anthemist, he left many of his strawberry-field-absurdities by the wayside. “Glass Onion” is a last glimpse at Lennon’s Wonderland, peeling back layers of Beatles-mythos with the unreliability of the Mad Hatter reporting for Rolling Stone. The percussion is especially snappy and airtight, and the sighing string sections add a great deal of psychedelic unease (shoutout the outro, sampled by MF DOOM on “Tick, Tick”). It was only natural for John to mature past his LSD-fueled excursions, but I for one will always have a soft spot for what he brought to the Beatles’ surrealism.

10. Blackbird

It’s funny to think that upon The White Album’s release, “Blackbird” was little more than a transitory deep cut. Nowadays, the song’s impact ranks among The Beatles’ most ubiquitous classics (even Beyoncé’s covered it). One of the few Beatles songs to feature only a single member, “Blackbird” is an unassuming acoustic masterpiece. Over a strangely-metered melody reminiscent of Bach, Paul sweetly sings hope to all those with broken wings (the song was specifically written with the Civil Rights Movement in mind), only accompanied by twittering birdsong. What else is there to say? If you want to understand what makes “Blackbird” so special, just ask literally anyone with a guitar.

9. Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey

Aside from sporting maybe the most head-scratching song title in their discography, “Me and My Monkey” stands out as a live-wire of pure Beatlectricity. Screaming guitars, pounding drums, and even a clanging fireman’s bell — this song is a proto-punkish cacophony leaps and bounds beyond what most bands were doing in 1968. Lennon’s lyrics call to mind the toothy grin of a glassy-eyed maniac, feverishly declaring his loving dependence on Yoko… or heroin… or both. George’s guitar refrain is the cherry on top; an alarm bell of a riff that tickles every crease in my brain.

8. Martha My Dear

It’s indicative of Paul McCartney’s genius that a song written about his dog — a song he himself has dismissed as “meaningless fantasy” — is also the only song on The White Album that has ever brought me to tears. Call me silly, but the pure-hearted simplicity of “Martha My Dear” never fails to move me. Meaningless or not, Paul’s portrayal of the bond shared between a man and an animal — as precious moments of companionship spent without a single word of spoken communication — pulls at the root of my heartstrings. Pair that with George Martin’s stellar ear for orchestral arrangements and some of my favorite horn-playing on any Beatles song, and you’ve got yourself a tearjerking cheat code I consider egregiously underrated.

7. Dear Prudence

Of the many stories which surround The Beatles’ time in Rishikesh, Prudence Farrow’s self-isolation makes for one of the more memorable. The younger sister of actress Mia Farrow, Prudence’s growing interest in meditation eventually led to her sequestering herself in her room for days at a time, leading the other guests to worry about her wellbeing. “Dear Prudence” came about as an attempt by John Lennon to coax the young woman out of her bungalow, and it’s that same softhearted spirit which defines the finished track. Lennon’s lyrics are like a beckoning hand, singing and swaying with the rhythm of Mother Earth. The song builds from a fluttering lullaby to a boisterous celebration, as if the listener themselves has emerged from a dark cave and finally embraced the light.

6. Julia

For all of his moody misanthropy, John Lennon only ever recorded one Beatles song all by himself. That honor goes to “Julia,” the last White Album song to be recorded (mere weeks before the final deadline). The power of this composition lies in its sheer, borderline uncomfortable, nakedness. Thematically, the song is a touching tribute to Lennon’s late mother, vulnerably reckoning with the mercurial remnant of her existence. Sonically, Lennon is recorded with gossamer-thin delicacy; just a man, his voice, and his instrument. The acoustic finger-picking (a style he learned from Scottish folk singer Donovan) adds a kiss of texture, like waves breaking on a shore. “Julia” is easily among the best deep cuts The Beatles (or in this case, just John) ever produced.

5. Back in the U.S.S.R.

If fans thought the colorful psychedelia of Sgt. Pepper and The Magical Mystery Tour was The Beatles’ new norm, “Back in the U.S.S.R.” is an alarm-bell reminder that the lads can still rock. The energy of this opener is positively infectious, dropping clever quotables and flipping tropes with diabolical wryness (the song itself is a parody of Chuck Berry’s “Back in the U.S.A.”). It may not hit with the same shock these days, but in 1968, the biggest band in the world dedicating a song to the Soviet Union was a blatant (and ballsy) invitation for bad publicity. “Back in the U.S.S.R.” is rowdy, raunchy, and oh-so reckless — a perfect microcosm of what The White Album has in store.

4. Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da

More than probably any song on this list, “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da” precedes itself. For decades, fans have remained staunchly divided on the song’s validity as a Beatles classic. Detractors have long pointed to things such as the incessant positivity of the lyrics, the ear-splitting repetition of the piano line, and the fact that the song’s creation almost tore the band apart. With all that being said… I think “Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da” is one of the most irresistibly good-natured songs ever written. Yes, it’s silly; yes, it stands out from the rest of The White Album like a technicolor thumb; yes, Paul saying “brah” is difficult to abide — but there’s also few things in this world more guaranteed to brighten my day. The ska rhythm is practically buoyant, and the lyrics are a charming reminder of the bountiful joys present in life’s little mundanities. For as long as my life goes on, I’ll be singing this one with Paul.

3. Helter Skelter

The Beatles were always ahead-of-their-time, but “Helter Skelter” is something else. Designed to be the filthiest rock song the band could possibly muster, this track is a fiery barrage the likes of which 60’s pop music had never seen. Sometimes cited as the forefather of heavy metal, the song’s intentional scum marked a prescient first step for punk, hardcore, and beyond. Perhaps that’s why it’s aged so incredibly well, still managing to get the blood pumping more than 50 years later. Paul’s vocals are ragged and yowling (an evolution reminiscent of John’s phlegmy yelps on “Twist and Shout” five years prior), the guitars are rabidly frothy, and Ringo’s drumming is transformed into a relentless din (he’s the one yelling about blisters). “Helter Skelter” is deserving of the highest praise one can bestow upon a true rock ‘n’ roll classic: fuckin’ awesome.

2. Happiness is a Warm Gun

By 1968, The Beatles were having trouble agreeing on just about everything. They were, however, able to come to a consensus as to their favorite song on The White Album. “Happiness is a Warm Gun” could easily be considered John Lennon’s masterpiece, a perfect splice of multiple rock threads into one mind-melting opus of lust, pleasure, and violence. Each of the song’s three sections could be in contention for album’s best, so the fact that they’re linked together is nothing short of a treat. The illogically changing tempos and absurd poetics make an already intriguing yarn all the more fun to unravel, so by the time Lennon launches into that ceiling-scraping falsetto at the tail-end of the song, you’re already ready to rewind the whole thing.

1. While My Guitar Gently Weeps

In the years leading up to The White Album, George Harrison’s songwriting had been undermined and under-appreciated by not only the general public, but The Beatles themselves. “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” was the turning point. A jaw-dropping epic built from sweeping arrangements — the best song on The White Album is one of the best rock songs ever written. The compassionate world-weariness of George’s lyrics are achingly relatable, capturing a deep-seated yearning that seems to rest at the heart of humanity. The composition is astounding in its scope, managing to sound bigger and bolder than Beatles songs with far more auditory clutter. Oh, and let’s not forget Eric Clapton’s transcendent lead guitar, beaming through the mix like a rock ‘n’ roll angel reciting “hallelujah.” The White Album is the most multifaceted album The Beatles ever made, and at the top of such a heaping hodgepodge rests this single, indisputable jewel. We love you, George — may your teardrops never run dry.