My music listening habits were forever altered 40 years ago this week by the release of a certain Beatles album. The release was titled simply The Beatles, but it immediately became known in our household and around the world as “The White Album.”

The White Album was released on November 22, 1968 and I think it became a law in the United States that you had to give and/or receive at least one copy of the album for Christmas that year. I can’t remember if it was my mom who gave it to my dad or vice versa, but I spent the better part of Christmas vacation that year listening to all four sides of The White Album.

Although the White Album was pretty sparse on the outside, on the inside it featured individual portraits of the Beatles and a poster with lyrics to all the album’s songs.

As an eight-year-old kid, I first gravitated toward the novelty numbers on the album, many of them composed by the band’s Tin Pan Alley-style tunesmith Paul McCartney. Those included “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,” “Martha My Dear,” “Honey Pie” and “Rocky Raccoon.” These “gateway” songs introduced me to the harder pleasures of songs such as “Helter Skelter,” “Revolution #1” and “Yer Blues,” written by the immortal John Lennon.

It’s been written that many of the songs on the White Album were conceived during the Beatles’ visit to India in the spring of 1968. There the band studied transcendental meditation under Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, took a much-needed break from media and fan scrutiny, and immersed themselves in daylong songwriting sessions in little bamboo huts. From what I can tell, the lads from Liverpool also enjoyed seeing the sights and animals of India. The White Album is full of evocative foreign imagery and four song titles feature animals: “Blackbird,” “Piggies,” “Rocky Raccoon” and “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey.” The song “Bungalow Bill” includes tigers and elephants, and another one, “Martha My Dear,” was written about McCartney’s English sheep dog.

The “Monkey” song is one of several Lennon-penned tunes on the album inspired by his ordeal in India of going cold turkey (another animal!) and quitting a heroin habit. He alludes to that struggle in “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” and “I’m So Tired,” as well.

The White Album is a distinct departure from previous Beatles albums in that John Lennon and Paul McCartney each wrote his songs without input from the other. In that regard, many of the songs are fairly accurate forecasts of how Lennon and McCartney would plot their first few post-Beatles solo albums. For instance, a song like “Mother Nature’s Son” would’ve been completely at home on McCartney’s first two solo albums, McCartney and Ram, next to songs such as “Maybe I’m Amazed” and “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey.”

The White Album is also the point in the Beatles career when guitarist George Harrison staked his claim as a songwriter to be reckoned with. His previous contributions to the Beatles canon were songs such as “Taxman” and “Blue Jay Way,” serviceable tunes but clearly in the shadow of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting juggernaut. The White Album’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” changed all of that with a single song. It was Harrison’s first great song and subsequent albums would find him writing some of the best latter day Beatles songs including “I Me Mine,” “Something” and “Here Comes the Sun.”

I have several audiophile friends who swear that vinyl albums have a sonic warmth and accuracy that can’t be matched by digital formats such as the CD. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I do know that The White Album should be listened to as a collection of four sides of music, just as it was presented in its original vinyl format. Side one takes off—literally—with the sound of a jet airplane leading into “Back in the U.S.S.R.,” a nifty homage to the Beach Boys. The “poppiest” of the four sides, side one also includes “Glass Onion,” “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” and “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

Side two is mellow and romantic, starting off with “Martha My Dear” and ending with “Julia,” a beautiful ode to Lennon’s late mother. It is one of the five most melancholy songs in the English language and still has the power to make grown men misty. In between is “Blackbird,” a song that taught a generation of young guitarists how to fingerpick.

Side three is the rocking side featuring the tunes “Birthday,” “Helter Skelter” and “Yer Blues.” While most of the album was written on, and recorded with acoustic guitars, side three is where George, John and Paul get plugged in and pour on the fuzztone.

Side four, well, side four is just kind of strange. After the side three-esque starter of “Revolution #1,” things get rather self-indulgent. McCartney channels 1930s Vaudeville with “Honey Pie” while Harrison sings about sweet treats and dental decay on “Savoy Truffle.” Side four ends with “Good Night” and its odd yet heavenly chorus of singers and orchestral musicians backing Ringo Starr as he bids everyone “adieu.”

The album’s next to last song is the eight minute, 22 second aural nightmare that is “Revolution #9.” Reportedly inspired by the sonic experiments of John Cage, “Revolution #9” combines orchestral snippets, backwards taping techniques, spoken words and soccer crowd noises presented in a most unpleasant non-Beatles manner. When I was a sophomore in high school, my classmate Carol put it best when she said, “I can’t really listen to ‘Revolution #9’ because it makes my stomach hurt.”

Not counting the Yellow Submarine soundtrack and various compilation albums, The White Album was followed only by Abbey Road and Let It Be before the band called it quits in 1970. While many Beatles fans think the band’s finest hour may have been during the Rubber Soul (1965) or Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967) eras, I think the songwriting zeniths of both Lennon and McCartney