I acquired my first copy of The White Album when I was about twelve. I don’t really know why, but something in that record clicked with me and I can safely say I subsequently listened to that sucker every single day for the next few years. Yes, the whole thing. These are thirty songs embedded deeply within my consciousness. I now have more copies of The White Album than might be considered rational. I’ve heard the bootlegs. And identifying the arcane differences between the mono and stereo mixes? Yeah, across that.
In some ways, this was a concert I was born to critique. And, frankly, it’s unreasonable fans like me who present a significant challenge in staging The White Album Concert.