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The Beach Boys’ “The Beach Boys” (1985) – The Weekend Review

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By Chris Moore:

RATING:  4.5 / 5 stars

Never before has such an excellent album been so universally scorned.

From the reviewers on down to the liner notes of the CD itself, every writer who has taken pen to paper in the name of The Beach Boys — perhaps better known to fans as “1985” — has had much in the way of criticism and, at times, outright derision for what ended up being their last full-length studio album of predominantly original material.

Take it as another subtle disapproval when only one track from this year was included on the Good Vibrations: Thirty Years of the Beach Boys box set.

One track out of well over one hundred tracks.

The truth is that The Beach Boys sounds a bit dated, clearly a product of the eighties and the decade long flirtation with digital and synthesized sounds.  Andrew Doe, writer of both the liner notes for the album and Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys: The Complete Guide to their Music, claims that the decision to experiment with this technology “removed any sense of immediacy from the proceedings.”

He also has negative commentary to share for just about every track that I like.

As Doe is one of the few writers to take the time — or, certainly, to be paid — to review these tracks, it may be useful to revisit his sentiments.  In his mind, the Mike Love/Terry Melcher-penned “Getcha Back,” one of the true gems of this period, “has a curiously unfinished feel about it.”  Bruce Johnston’s heartfelt performance on “She Believes in Love Again” is “(unusually) less than silky smooth.”  Brian Wilson’s admittedly simple but — as the Laptop Sessions have proven — beautiful song “I’m So Lonely” is simply “in no way objectionable.” “Passing Friend,” the stronger of the two covers here, is described as “a second-string Culture Club discard [that] really isn’t appropriate, nor up to par.”  (Whereas the other cover, “I Do Love You,” is “good,” even if it’s “not the Beach Boys.”)

To be fair, “Where I Belong” gets the attention it deserves, although Doe overstates it a bit as “the undoubted album highlight.”  The other track that he endorses is “California Calling,” a perfectly enjoyable track that is nostalgic of classic early Beach Boys.  Predictably, Doe again overstates, writing “why this wasn’t a single is an eternal mystery.”

Herein lies the rub: that frustrating ever-present perception of the classic early Beach Boys sound.

The Beach Boys' "The Beach Boys" (1985)

The Beach Boys' "The Beach Boys" (1985)

For nearly two decades by this point, the Beach Boys had been suffering from commercial and critical expectations.  Anyone could understand why Smiley Smile fell disappointingly flat, but strong later releases — like the placid but endearing Friends and the masterpiece Sunflower — stalled in the triple digits on the charts.

Is it a coincidence that an album on which the Beach Boys experiment with new technology and stretch out beyond some of their more typical arrangements is so widely disdained?

I think not.

Consider for even a moment the runaway success of their subsequent album (more like an EP) Still Cruisin’ based on the merits of the crowd-pleasing “Kokomo” and in spite of the downright embarrassing “Wipe Out.”

When this band sings within the ranges of their image (i.e. anything related to summer, the beach, waves, sun, etc.), they are met with far more success than when they stretch out beyond the expected.

As for me, I can see beyond the eighties textures.  I don’t feel the compulsive need to value this music primarily in comparison to the other albums in the Beach Boys catalog; even if I did, it would hold up as one of the pillars, particularly post-Holland.  And I applaud the Beach Boys for rebounding from a tumultuous series of years that saw Carl temporarily quitting the band, Brian falling under the influence of Dr. Landy, and Dennis passing away, due to drowning.

Despite all the tension and tragedy, The Beach Boys is the combined effort of five adults still able to perform with positive energy, adding the element of uplift to nearly every track.  This album is host to what have become lost Beach Boys tracks, including excellent little numbers like “It’s Gettin’ Late,” the catchy “Crack at Your Love,” and the electric, rockin’ “Maybe I Don’t Know.”  And, as much as I like Keepin’ the Summer Alive (1980) for a spin or maybe two, this is the album I put on repeat for days at a time to kick off or to recharge my summer spirit each year.

Few may agree with me, but that’s okay.  The Beach Boys truly is the under-appreciated pinnacle of the Beach Boys final full decade as a band.  Not since Holland had they produced such a strong album, and they would sadly never match it again.

At this point, I’ve written all that can be communicated, and I’ll have to agree to disagree with the masses, tolerating “Kokomo” and loving The Beach Boys (1985).

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“Passing Friend” (Beach Boys/Culture Club Cover)

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For Beach Boys / Culture Club chords & lyrics, CLICK HERE!

By Chris Moore:

The general public’s response to my video tonight will most likely be:

“Culture Club?  Finally!”

Since I’ve been focusing so heavily on more recent music, I decided tonight to go back to one of the best bands of all time, the Beach Boys!  (You might be thinking: “Wait, I thought he said ‘Culture Club,’ and you’d be right.  Be patient; all will become clear soon…)  For the past week, I’ve been listening back and forth to newer and older music.  In the car, it’s been newer — Wilco and Marcy Playground — and in the house, it’s been older — Beach Boys and George Harrison.  (I’m trying to iron out my George Harrison essentials playlist; I made the first selection of tracks months ago, but the recent release of the Let it Roll CD has inspired me to finally make the next set of cuts necessary to carve out the compilation.)

For tonight’s session, I’ve chosen to cover “Passing Friend,” a track from the Beach Boys’ self-titled release back in 1985.  This song was penned by George O’Dowd — better known as Boy George — and Roy Hay of Culture Club.  (So, I suppose, this technically isn’t a Culture Club song, but it’s as close as we’re going to come on this blog at least for now!)  “Passing Friend” is generally considered to be a disposable track on what is often considered a disposable album in the Beach Boys catalog.

Nonsense!

Okay, so maybe “Passing Friend” is somewhat disposable.  But let’s be very clear here that The Beach Boys (1985) is one of my favorite albums of all time.  I think that I’m one of only two people who would give it that distinction, but it really is an enjoyable, versatile, all-around great album.  “Passing Friend” isn’t one of the strongest songs on the album by any means, but it’s still a solid track.  I was surprised by how easy and fun it was to learn, play, and record an acoustic cover of the over-produced studio version.

The story behind the song is based on members of the then-popular band Culture Club — singer Boy George and guitarist/keyboardist Roy Hay — writing a track for the Beach Boys to record.  It seems that the Beach Boys were experimenting with new ways to regain some semblance of relevance in a musical climate that was drastically different from their 1960’s hey day.  At the time, Culture Club had taken a break after touring England.  Hay was involved in a new band (This Way Up) and Boy George was making the rounds on the club scene.  Although they came together to write this song, Culture Club was destined to disband the following year due to tensions within the band and Boy George’s addiction to drugs.

Thus, we have “Passing Friend,” a deep track if I’ve ever heard one!  I hope you enjoy this stripped down version.  Maybe it will even encourage you to give The Beach Boys (1985) either a shot or a second chance…

To address old business, I had promised in last week’s cover song music video post that I would bring you a double header this week.  Well, today was a tremendously busy day, so I decided to hold off, as I need just a little more time to focus and figure out the chords for the second of the two songs.  I won’t give them away just yet, but suffice it to say that I’m presenting an all-new band to the blog.  They are big time one hit wonders — probably for good reason — and I’ll be recording a video of their hit single, as well as the single from their most recent album.

There’s more to come — including a very special post, one that is very near and dear to me.

I realize this is all very vague, but believe me: these posts promise to be well worth your time clicking back to the best acoustic cover song blog in the universe!  (And we’re modest, too…)  There’s plenty more musical fun in the archive.

See you next session!

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Bob Dylan’s “Bob Dylan” (1962) – Yes, No, or Maybe So

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Bob Dylan’s Bob Dylan (1962) – MAYBE

Bob Dylan's self-titled debut (1962)

Bob Dylan's self-titled debut (1962

(March 19, 1962)

Review:

It is difficult to imagine a time when Bob Dylan was not revered as a songwriter, but here is one of the true documents of that time; it is an album that exemplifies young Dylan’s early sound, as he experimented with his influences on some of his first cover song recordings  and presented the first two originals he committed to an album (the early, touching gem “Song to Woody” and the raw, poetically humorous “Talkin’ New York”).

Top Two Tracks:

“Song to Woody” & “House of the Risin’ Sun”

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Broken Bells’ “Broken Bells” (2010) – The Weekend Review

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By Chris Moore:

RATING:  4 / 5 stars

Having never heard a Shins album (or even as much as a thirty-second preview clip of a Shins song), I came to Broken Bells with no expectations or preconceived notions of how it should sound.  To be fair, that isn’t entirely accurate.  Seeing Danger Mouse’s name in the mix made me wonder just how experimental, or just how “far out,” this would be.  When my wondering gave way to actual listening, I found something I hadn’t expected.

Simply stated, Broken Bells is a beautiful collage of influences finely knit together with unique modern qualities that set this record distinctly apart from the jurisdiction of terms like “retro” or “derivative.”

Still, never in one album have I found such a wide range of interesting influences.  Here and there, a pinch at a time, I have perceived subtle flecks of styles from the Beach Boys to Elliott Smith to Weezer to Phantom Planet and back to the Bee Gees, or perhaps the Scissor Sisters.  As was the case with his collaboration with Beck on 2008’s Modern Guilt, Danger Mouse’s more synthetic sounds and beats are finely balanced out by the more conventional instrumentation and sensibilities of the Shins’ lead vocalist and guitarist James Mercer.  Between the two, Broken Bells is a celebration of many sounds that have come before, newly contextualized and altered here to create something new, something all their own.

This is also the rare record that only gets better as it stretches out.  Without question, the first two tracks are the standout efforts of the album.  That being said, the album does lag a bit after them, particularly after “Your Head is On Fire” fades out.  However, as the second half of the album kicks off with “Trap Doors,” it is only onward and upward from there.  By the time “The Mall & Misery” closes the album, it would be difficult to deny another go-round kicked off by lead single and opening track “The High Road.”

Broken Bells' self-titled debut (2010)

Broken Bells' self-titled debut (2010)

“The High Road” is an excellent choice for leading off the album, as well as representing it as a single.  Danger Mouse’s synthesized sounds somehow manage to appear random while obviously being the result of a very purposeful pattern.  Under all the layers lies a fairly straightforward piano ballad, a simplicity that is realized in the stripped-down outro.

From the piano and vocal fade follows the acoustic and vocal intro to “Vaporize,” another standout track on the album.  This is where Broken Bells start to lay out some of the themes that will follow in the songs to come.  As Mercer sings,  “Common fears start to multiply; we realize we’re paralyzed.”  He continues, “It’s not too late to feel a little more alive.”

What an excellent lyrical anchor for an album that is all about shaking up the format.

“Your Head is On Fire” is a particularly fascinating track.  It kicks off with instrumentation and a vocal arrangement that strongly conjures seventies Beach Boys (my favorite!), with a particularly heavy emphasis on sounds characteristic of Dennis Wilson’s solo effort Pacific Ocean Blue.  By the time the acoustic guitars strum in, the song proceeds to a second movement, but it does return for one more retro romp in the outro that would have felt right at home on SMiLE.

The following two tracks — “The Ghost Inside” and “Sailing to Nowhere” — carve out a clearer idea of what the Broken Bells sound is going to be.  Although they are strong tracks, they are the sort of fare you might expect in the half to three-quarters swampland of your typical record.

Instead, Broken Bells comes alive with new vitality in that region, kicking off with the steady beat and buildup of “Trap Doors,” followed closely by the multi-movement “Citizen.”  The latter peaks with an essential question: “From the moment that we’re born, ’til we’re old and tired out: Do we ever know?”

The opening piano riff of “October” may conjure Phantom Planet’s “California,” but it quickly progresses into the multi-vocal attack that Broken Bells have asserted as their own throughout this record.  And the pace isn’t lost on the low-register vocals of the next track, the beat-driven “Mongrel Heart.”

The aforementioned “Mongrel Heart” blends seamlessly into the album’s final stop.  “The Mall & Misery” is an exercise in perfect timing, another gorgeous mixture of beautiful acoustic guitars, lush harmonies, and a bed of beats and other synthesized sounds.  “Use your intuition; it’s all you’ve got,” Mercer declares.  Every lyric resource on the Internet seems to disagree with me, but I read the refrain as “I know what I know will not fill a thimble.”  I won’t even share what the misconception (?) is; I’m quite attached to what I’ve heard.  At the close of the stylistic odyssey that is Broken Bells, what a fitting final thought.

All in all, Broken Bells’ self-titled debut is a sharp, vivid album that presents a series of interesting lyrics and sounds mostly by way of tight but thoughtful little pop songs, the pieces which work together to form a greater whole.

And that’s more than enough to hook me.

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