(entirely written in airports on JULY 16 and 17). I don't understand comments such as "if the White Album had been cut down to a single disc then it would have been a better album". Of course, trimming away the fat would produce a more consistently excellent album, but you could say that about *any* album. It's just more fashionable to say it about the long ones. Using this logic, since side one of "Loveless" is stronger than side two, so if they'd just released everything up to "I Only Said" and called it a mini-album or an e.p., then it would have been a stronger musical statement. Snipping away all but the very best tracks on any album must result in a better (track-for-track) record by its very definition. But what you're left with bears little resemblance to the original product, just as watching only the best scenes in a movie and skipping over the rest doesn't improve upon the film as a whole (although obviously it is fun to do sometimes).

Epics such as the White Album are supposed to be long and uneven. Every time somebody makes such a record they feel that it's necessary to take in every style of music from hard rock to Irish folk. Such an album is bound to be about as consistent as its many stylistic jumps (that is to say, not very consistent at all). It's bound to get silly in places, boring in others, and deliver some ill-thought sounds and lyrics that make you go "that was extremely unnecessary". You.re supposed to feel as though you.ve been listening forever. "Getting there" may not be half the fun, but it just wouldn't feel the same if you got there sooner.

Recently, I finally got around to exploring the Magnetic Fields' voluptuous "69 Love Songs". Some of it is missable, but "37 Love Songs" wouldn't carry the same weight, would it? Three albums, three hours, everything from punk to weepy folk ballads. You have to sit through all those one-minute tossed-off tunes and let each lo-fi pop song roll by until you can no longer distinguish between them. Or remember which disc of the three you're listening to at that moment. And wonder about the reasoning behind the track ordering on this beast, giving rise to questions like "why is the song I'm hearing at this exact moment on disc three instead of on disc one?" and "why did this reggae/English air/Steve Reich tape phasing composition just interject itself at this particular point on the album?" The rocky terrain and extended investment of your time makes for deeper feelings gleaned from sad songs like "Come Back From San Francisco" or "Acoustic Guitar". Good things come to those who wait around and get slapped out of thin air from "Tea in China" rhymed with "North Carolina" or "Louvre" with "manouvre". It's worth it for the poignant senses of "that song perfectly encapsulated my relationship with Person X".

A future task : get through the entire album in one sitting.