When a band has multiple vocalists, debates about who sings better are almost inevitable. Certain songs simply fit particular voices, and although it may not always be ideal for every situation, it’s more important to serve the song than to satisfy egos in the studio. This was the case with The White Album. While John Lennon was proud of having written ‘Good Night’, Paul McCartney believed Lennon shouldn’t have handed it to Ringo Starr to close out the album.

Then again, any chance of the Fab Four having a cordial conversation during this album felt like a pipe dream. Everyone was on completely separate pages, and while Lennon and McCartney could still help each other along on the odd song here and there, it was almost as if they were showing the rest of the group the tracks and could give a rat’s ass whether or not one of them said it could be better.

And if you look at Lennon’s material, it’s not like he wasn’t proud to come away with the most experimental songs on the record. ‘Happiness is a Warm Gun’ is still one of the craziest journeys a standard pop song has ever taken, and while it’s known more as an experience than a song, you can’t say that ‘Revolution 9’ isn’t at least interesting.

Since this is a double album, though, that meant giving Starr at least a bit of runtime on the record. He had already tried his hand at making his first-ever original tune in ‘Don’t Pass Me By’, but it’s not like that was going to be competing with ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ for best song on the project or anything.

So, after ‘Revolution 9’ scared the living daylights out of everyone, ‘Good Night’ is the kind of sentimental ballad that Starr could deliver better than anyone else. It doesn’t have a vast range of notes, and considering his lighthearted demeanour throughout their career, Starr seems to be playing the role of a father gently tucking his child into bed before the album fades away.

In fact, that’s how the whole song started, but McCartney always heard it as something that would have showcased Lennon’s softer side, saying, “I think John felt it might not be good for his image for him to sing it, but it was fabulous to hear him do it, he sang it great. We heard him sing it in order to teach it to Ringo, and he sang it very tenderly. John rarely showed his tender side, but my key memories of John are when he was tender; that’s what has remained with me: those moments where he showed himself to be a very generous, loving person.”

It’s not like Lennon couldn’t eventually make something this sincere. He had already been doing soft ballads like ‘In My Life’, and since he already had a great acoustic number on the same album with ‘Julia’, bringing in a sweeping orchestral backing behind his voice would have been a great way for him to get in touch with his pop side.

Then again, that was the opposite of where Lennon wanted to be at the time, electing to make audio freakouts with Yoko Ono when he wasn’t serving up traditional rock and roll songs. But for all of the cheap shots that Lennon aimed at McCartney for making ‘granny music’, it turns out Lennon wasn’t half-bad at writing those syrupy tunes either.