Celebrate the Catalog: The Beach Boys

Teenage Symphonies to God

Pet Sounds
(1966; Capitol)

Much has already been written about the importance, innovation, and sheer beauty of Pet Sounds, which I won’t regurgitate here. Instead, I’ll try to sum up what the album means to me. I first heard the album in its entirety when I was 19 or 20 years old. I had long been a fan of the Beach Boys, though I was primarily familiar with the hits that make up Endless Summer. Like many people that age, I was struggling with the transition to adulthood: the lack of regimented structure, the stress of new responsibility, the intricacies of romantic relationships, and with the search of whom I was. At the time I turned to music for solace, and I devoured the works of many different groups. Of all of the songwriters I collected and cherished, Brian Wilson was, and still is, held above the others. Pet Sounds felt almost like it was written for me. I felt like I wasn’t made for these times. I knew the fragility of romantic entanglements. I knew the self-doubt that weighed on me when with those I cared most about. But the album was also an influence for this aspiring musician. The dynamics and driving rhythms of “Waiting For the Day” and the ascendant melodies of “You Still Believe In Me” and “Here Today.” And the sound of the songs themselves: “God Only Knows” is love put in musical form, with all its anticipation and lushness and bittersweet moments. To me, Pet Sounds isn’t only a collection of songs about the search for self and becoming an adult, but was the sound of life itself, with all its heavenly highs and crushing lows, and the strength to begin again. The difficulty of living is shared by all, but this album allowed me to feel that connection. – NU

I’ve written about Pet Sounds previously. There is nothing new I can add. “God Only Knows” is a national treasure. OK, I added one thing. I’m done. – ES

Rating: 10 out of 10

Smiley Smile
(1967; Capitol)

Famously described by Carl Wilson as “a bunt instead of a grand slam,” Smiley Smile was hastily recorded in the wake of the disappointing chart performance of “Heroes and Villains,” the subsequent collapse of the SMiLE project, and Brian Wilson’s second mental breakdown. The group rerecorded a number of tracks from SMiLE in much simpler and acoustic arrangements, with “Heroes and Villains,” “Vegetables,” Wind Chimes,” “Wonderful,” and a reworking of “Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow” called “Fall Breaks and Back to Winter.” Also making the cut were some new originals, the beach lullabies of “Goin’ Bald,” “Whistle In,” and “Little Pad,” the rollicking and eventual single release “Gettin’ Hungry,” and the gorgeous and ominous “With Me Tonight.” And for good measure, the one completely untouched “Good Vibrations” rounded out the album, providing a somewhat overproduced selection in the midst of an otherwise ramshackle recording. In a way, the album brings to mind the much more lauded, and profitable, The Beatles that was released the following year, with its messy recording quality, psychedelic overtones, and semi-acoustic arrangements (Paul McCartney even makes a chewing appearance on “Vegetables”). Smiley Smile is only disappointing when held up against what it could have been rather than what it actually was: a fun, stripped-down session aspiring for art. – NU

Rating: 8.5 out of 10

Wild Honey
(1967; Capitol)

After the debacle that was the Smile sessions, the Beach Boys had to react to changes on several different fronts at once. For one, Brian Wilson’s increasingly drug-addled Svengali act was getting out of hand. For another, the landscape of music was rapidly changing from the squeaky clean images of the early ’60s to the free love, experimental latter half of the decade. People were tuning in, turning on, and dropping out. Smiley Smile was assembled hastily from the problematic and legendary issues with the album that shared half of that name (only recently released in its originally intended form) and the Beach Boys needed to recover that fumble. Gone were the studio musicians, with the main members taking to their instruments once again, but Brian Wilson was given a limited role as producer (though stories differ on this point). The result was Wild Honey, a more blue-eyed soul record than a follow-up to the psychedelic, yet tender sweetness of Pet Sounds or even the current direction of music at that time. After all, the Beatles had been so inspired by Pet Sounds that they came up with Sgt. Pepper’s, while the debuts of Pink Floyd and Jimi Hendrix made noticeable impacts. That being said, Wild Honey is a solid album. The title track and “Darlin’” are standouts, adding throwback elements that fit perfectly in Carl Wilson’s raspier voice, as compared to the more lofty falsetto of Brian or the nasal talk-sing of Mike Love. Whether it was Carl’s increasing confidence, or his success on previous singles, “God Only Knows” and “Good Vibrations,” he started to take center stage during this period. The album needs to be judged on its own merits, and not as compared to either past Beach Boys efforts or its contemporaries. In this way, the album is a success. Nothing could have surpassed Pet Sounds and it is easily seen as a smart move to move into an entirely new direction after Smile failed to materialize. However, like Smiley Smile, this album did have at least one remnant of the original sessions, being “Mama Says,” a charming chant supposed to be part of “Vegetables.” It seems tacked on, but when Capitol started packaging two Beach Boys album together, it made for a nice snapshot of that period. – ES

Rating: 7 out of 10

Friends
(1968; Capitol)

After the release of Wild Honey in December of 1967, Mike Love went on his months-long Transcendental Meditation trip to India with other famous participants, including the Beatles and Donovan. The rest of the group, however, began recording what would be called Friends. A once again stable Brian took over control of the creative direction of the band, resulting in some pleasant and mellow songs. In fact, there’s a sense of contentment and warmth emanating from the entire album. Songs deal with strong relationships, between father and son (“When a Man Needs a Woman”), between lovers (“Be Here in the Morning“), and between friends (the title track). Dennis Wilson also contributes two strong songs, the quietly philosophical “Be Still” and the brilliant duet between Dennis and Brian about the relationship between nature and man, “Little Bird.” The weakest tracks on the album are at the end, not adhering to the theme and weighing the platter down. While very well constructed, “Diamond Head” seems agonizingly longer than its 3:37 minutes, and “Transcendental Meditation” is almost dissonant, which is the last thing one thinks of when one hears mention of either the Beach Boys or TM. Fortunately for Beach Boys fans, Brian Wilson was to stay in both a creative and unwavering mindset for the next couple of releases. – NU

Rating: 9 out of 10

20/20
(1969; Capitol)

20/20 holds a few different distinctions in the legend of the Beach Boys, some of them good and some of them infamous. First of all, the title comes from the idea that the group had 20 albums up until that point, but this is including hits compilations. It was to be the band’s last album of the ’60s, closing out not only a decade, but their relationship with Capitol Records. Mike Love got into transcendental meditation, and Brian was taking Lithium as well as receiving shock treatment therapy for his somewhat publicized drug and mental issues. This “odds and ends” collection was going to have to suffice to fulfill their contract with Capitol, but it ending up being a worthy addition to the catalog. Not only were there some more key tracks from the aborted Smile sessions (“Our Prayer” and “Cabinessence”), but there were some great covers (“I Can Hear Music” and “Cotton Fields”), a throwback surf track (“Do it Again”), and a classic Brian Wilson underrated beauty in “Time to Get Alone.” But, 20/20 is perhaps notorious for featuring the song, “Never Learn Not to Love,” a b-side to “Bluebirds Over the Mountain.” You see, the track allegedly started out as a little ditty called “Cease to Exist,” penned by a guy named Charles Manson. The aforementioned “Cabinessence” also became notorious as the track that contained lyrics that drove a wedge between Mike Love and Smile contributor, Van Dyke Parks. All in all, for a contractually obligatory release, 20/20 is better rather than worse (sorry, had to put an optometrist joke in there). – ES

Rating: 8.6 out of 10

Sunflower
(1970; Brother)

Recorded during sporadic sessions throughout 1969 and early-1970 for both old label Capitol Records and new label Reprise Records, Sunflower is pure joy and the closest the group ever came to equaling Pet Sounds. If any one member dominated the album, it was Dennis, who contributed three songs and co-wrote a fourth: “Slip on Through” is as hard-charging as “Forever” is gentle and gorgeous, and “Got to Know the Woman” as fun and rollicking as “It’s About Time” is fast-paced and progressive. However, the album is a true group effort, with Al Jardine (“At My Window”), Bruce Johnston (“Deirdre” and “Tears in the Morning”), Mike Love (“Cool, Cool Water” and “All I Wanna Do”), and Carl Wilson (“Our Sweet Love”) contributing to songs and providing lead vocals. This is best exemplified by the minor hit “Add Some Music To Your Day,” in which each member is given a lead. Like many of the group’s releases, the A-side is heavy on rockers and upbeat material, while the B-side is ballad oriented. The trio of “All I Wanna Do,” “Forever,” and “Our Sweet Love” is among some of the best suites of sweet, heart-wrenching balladry the band has ever recorded. There’s even a snippet of SMiLE in the form of the aforementioned “Cool, Cool Water” at the end, much like Wild Honey, 20/20, and their next release, Surf’s Up. There are no truly weak moments on the album, which extraordinary considering the cobbled nature of the song selection. – NU

Rating: 9.5 out of 10

Long Promised Road

Surf’s Up
(1971; Brother)

Surf’s Up is one of those albums about which I don’t think I could ever really say anything negative. It was released a month before my birth and contains one of my favorite ever songs from that year in “Feel Flows.” At this time, manager Jack Rieley entered the Beach Boys arena, with suspicious credentials, and began to both rule with an iron fist and give creative input. It is hard to argue with the success, but the increased wedge between the Wilsons and the other members of the group was one of the other results. Carl and Brian provide the strongest contributions to Surf’s Up with the former providing the aforementioned “Feel Flows” as well as the soul-driven “Long Promised Road.” The quirky “Take a Load Off Your Feet” is one that tends to grow on you with repeated spins, and even hearkens back to Brian Wilson’s tinker-heavy productions during the Pet Sounds era. Bruce Johnston, the bassist who joined the Beach Boys in 1965, provides his first vocal turn on “Disney Girls (1957),” which is an underappreciated gem. “Student Demonstration Time” was Rieley’s attempt at getting the Beach Boys into more politically conscious territory, but the result was less than spectacular. That is likely the most negative I will get about this album as I even find Al Jardine’s folky “Lookin’ at Tomorrow (A Welfare Song)” a worthy diversion and possibly even ahead of its time. The last three songs make up a mini-Brian Wilson trilogy and succeed on most levels. Even the environmentally straightforward “A Day in the Life of a Tree,” oddly sung by Jack Rieley, is a sad stunner. “Til I Die” is equally contemplative, finding Brian Wilson in full surrender to the nature of life, the universe, and eventual death, as the song’s title intimates. The title track, in my opinion, is second to “Feel Flows,” but is very, very close. In fact, ask me tomorrow and I may change my mind. Originally, as many other songs from the last few Beach Boys albums, “Surf’s Up” was originally intended for SMiLE, but was never finished. Brian Wilson’s falsetto is at its most angelic and the harmonies at the end are absolutely glorious. If Jack Rieley is to be commended for anything, it is for his insistence that the song be finished for this album. – ES

Rating: 9 out of 10

Carl & the Passions “So Tough”
(1972; Brother)

The group was in a bit of turmoil at the time of Carl & the Passions – “So Tough.” Bruce Johnston had left the group after objecting to the vaguely hard-rock direction the band was taking and what he deemed to be a decline in artistic quality due to the, at best, intermittent involvement from Brian. The band also had a new guitarist and drummer in the form of Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar, two former members of South Africa’s The Flame that Carl had discovered years earlier. And Brian was in the midst of his years-long, drug-addled meltdown. Considering all this, the album should be a complete, unmitigated disaster, but ends up being a strong, albeit somewhat uneven release. At times the music takes on a surreal bubblegum-pop-done-by-War quality, specifically on the two songs co-written by Brian, “You Need A Mess of Help To Stand Alone” and “Marcella,” which has a terrific slide-guitar solo. Then there are the selections from Blondie and Fataar, which are terrific, but much funkier and rhythmically intricate than anything the group had done, “Here She Comes” and the country-flavored “Hold On Dear Brother.” Add to that the wrenching, heavily orchestrated torch songs from Dennis Wilson and collaborator Daryl Dragon (the Captain of Captain & Tennille fame), “Make it Good” and “Cuddle Up.” Rounding out the strange amalgamation are two songs co-written by Carl Wilson, Al Jardine, and Mike Love, the straightforward gospel of “He Come Down” and the beautiful floating harmonies of “All This is That.” At times it sounds like four separate albums, but fortunately, they’re all very good ones. (Interesting trivia tidbit: Ricky Fataar played the George Harrison role in Eric Idle’s The Rutles: All You Need is Cash.) – NU

Rating: 8.5 out of 10

Holland
(1973; Brother)

Upon the release of Carl & the Passions – “So Tough,” manager Jack Rieley encouraged the group to move to the Netherlands in an attempt to give their creative juices a jolt. The entire band made the trip, though Brian had little interest in being involved in the making of the album and focused entirely on his “Mount Vernon & Fairway” project. The rest of the group ended up recording what in many critics’ eyes at the time was a modest return to form. The album begins with its most famous track, “Sail On, Sailor,” a minor hit after its second single release. With a lead vocal from Blondie Chaplin, and featuring a buzz-saw guitar tone, the song had a long and winding journey to its inclusion on the album. Initially a ditty done by Brian and Van Dyke Parks (with Tandyn Almer & Ray Kennedy), the latter offered it up to Reprise Records after they turned down the original form of Holland because it lacked a single. It was given a quick rewrite by Rieley and hastily recorded in Brian’s home studio (as opposed to the rest of the album), without his involvement. Also on the album are two terrific Dennis Wilson tracks, the mournful “Steamboat” and the gorgeous “Only With You,” both with Carl on lead vocal, and the Mike Love/Al Jardine collaboration the California Saga, inspired by homesickness and comprised of three parts: the country waltz of “Big Sur,” the annoyingly Jonathan Livingston Seagull-esque “The Beaks of Eagles,” and the bubblegum bounce of “California.” Rounding out the album are Carl’s anti-colonial “The Trader,” the Chaplin/Fataar soul of “Leaving This Town,” and Brian’s appropriately titled and synth-driven “Funky Pretty,” meant to be included as part of the concept behind the “Mount Vernon and Fairway” project. This pet project of Brian’s was eventually orphaned, and subsequently adopted by Carl and Jack Reiley, completed, and released as an EP with Holland. All one can say about it is that it’s certainly original, in all its 10 minutes of synthesizer-laden, Michael Jackson-like creepiness. – NU

Rating: Holland – 8 out of 10/Mount Vernon and Fairway – 3 out of 10

15 Big Ones
(1976; Brother)

There was quite a bit of hullabaloo surrounding this album, as it was THE RETURN OF BRIAN in both vocal and production capacities on the heels of the monster success of 1974’s Endless Summer. There was even an NBC special dedicated to the group’s commercial rebound depicting an uneasy-looking Brian in a number of comedic skits and musical performances. Unfortunately, the release is as fractured as the reclusive genius, and the band itself, were at the time. Highlights are few, with “Had to Phone Ya” as one wonderful song, with each member getting a lead vocal, and Brian and Carl’s Moog-dominated cover of the Righteous Brothers’ “Just Once in My Life” and even Mike Love’s gorgeous ode to his guru “Everyone’s In Love With You.” The rest of the album, however, is a mixture of crassly commercial, soulless harmonies (“Rock and Roll Music”), uninspired and sometimes downright embarrassing covers (“Chapel of Love” and “In the Still of the Nite”), and original material were Brian strains his damaged voice to hit notes now long out of reach (“That Same Song” and “Back Home”). And Al Jardine is caught pitching his song from the Sunflower sessions again: “Susie Cincinnati.” This album has all the fingerprints of being rushed for maximum benefit of their resurgent popularity, with little regard for artistic quality. Sadly, it also indicates Brian’s reluctance, or inability, to take command of the artistic direction of the group. Fortunately for Beach Boys fans, the group still had some spark left in them for their next album. – NU

Rating: 4.5 out of 10

Love You
(1977; Brother)

As I stated earlier, I didn’t start out a massive Beach Boys fan. You can look to Nick for that. Sure, I was exposed to the hits, and probably several more songs and albums than your average music fan or consumer, but I didn’t have any Beach Boys albums alongside my early Beatles, Eagles, Simon & Garfunkel or Bee Gees records. That’s just how it shook out. With that in mind, I can state for the record that a lot of my preconceptions about the Beach Boys revolved around the idea of Mike Love being the main vocalist for the group. I grew up seeing the reunion tours and guest appearances of the band, which always featured Love up front. What I came to realize through this endeavor was not only was I a Beach Boys fan, but that I could start to appreciate every single member of the band for their contributions. In particular, I became a big Carl Wilson fan. His voice is aggressively distinct. I also realized that half the songs I thought were sung by Love were sung by Brian Wilson. I always knew he was the main songwriter. That kind of data is hard to avoid. But, I didn’t realize that all those amazing falsettos were his. One reason for that might be my age when Love You (and anything after this album) came out. Wilson’s voice, at this point, was severely damaged by years of smoking and cocaine use. He sounds particularly ravaged. However, this somehow makes the quality of the album seem even more remarkable. Again, all of the Beach Boys tend to step up, taking turns at the mic, even though the album was originally meant to be a Brian Wilson solo album. The lyrical material gives this away, with heartfelt songs of innocent love (“I Bet He’s Nice” & “Let’s Put Our Hearts Together”), our neighbor planets (“Solar System”), and late night talk show hosts (“Johnny Carson”). While these might at times feel silly, they also expose the world from the point of view of a wide-eyed, contemplative child, which is the only real way to describe Brian Wilson’s perspective. The album remains a sort of cult classic in the middle of the Beach Boys’ tenure, with much heated debate over its merits. In my opinion, it hits much more than it misses. – ES

Rating: 7.8 out of 10