Rockaway Beach Boys

Today’s post is a little something I caught in the icy depths of about the 16th page of results for “Beach Boys” on Amazon.com.  There was a lot of good stuff on the way down, including a disc of lullaby versions of Beach Boys songs, a string quartet version of Pet Sounds, and this hilarious Time Life cover featuring an airbrushed beefcake version of the Boys in the early days:

You forgot how ripped Carl was for a couple months in 1963

The catch of the day, though, was an album called Rockaway Beach Boys by the Rämouns, a German Ramones tribute band.  On the album, they have turned another corner and have decided to cover a second band as the first band; that is, this album is as close as we’ll ever come to hearing the Ramones cover the Beach Boys, besides, of course the Ramones’ cover of the Beach Boys’ version of Bobby Freeman’s “Do You Wanna Dance?”– phew!

The Ramones/Beach Boys connection may be lost on some tepid fans of either band, but for me, a steaming hot fan of both, I’ve noticed the similarities for a while.  Take “Rockaway Beach” as an example– it’s “Fun, Fun, Fun” on amphetamines; it’s Beach Boys sunny power pop through a buzzsaw filter; it’s so simple you wonder why it wasn’t written twenty years before, but there it is.  Joey and Dee Dee, the main songwriting forces behind the Ramones, time and again pick melodies that sound like “Shut Down” or “Be True To Your School.”  It’s something I’ve been trying to peg down for a while: what is it that makes the three-chord “Little Deuce Coupe” typify the early Beach Boys records?  Why is it that the melody tugs on the chords at certain locations that indicate Brian Wilson was here?  Whatever it is, it’s all over Ramones songs like “Sheena Is A Punk Rocker,” “Oh, Oh, I Love Her So,” and “Cretin Hop.”  Is it third notes, fifth notes, minor sevenths or ninths or some shit?  I don’t know, but I do know the Ramones loved the Phil Spector records– loved them enough to let Phil produce the famous End of the Century album– and they loved surf and early ’60′s girl group stuff just like Brian did.  They didn’t call themselves punks like the Sex Pistols, nor were they openly political like a lot of the British punks, but they were revolutionary nonetheless: they revived the fun and earnest two-minute pop song, rescued music from disco and prog rock (not that there’s anything wrong with those), and revitalized the musical underground, all without much ambition at all.  I salute them for it, the Rämouns salute them, and we all salute the Beach Boys with this one.  Enjoy Rockaway Beach Boys.  (Thanks, RATBOY69.)

Brian and Boy George

I am a fan of Boy George.  Culture Club sings some of my favorite songs in pop history, and the videos accompanying those songs are other-worldly (well, Mississippi, 1870 and The Gargoyle Club, Soho, 1936).  His voice reminds me of Smokey Robinson’s, and androgyny is kind of fascinating when it’s a lifelong effort, not just some Dee Snyder gimmick whipped up to cash in on a trend.  So it was to my surprise and delight when I came across an effort involving Brian and Boy George.

 The song flew way under the radar (swam through deep ocean trenches?) back in 2004.  It was a Live-Aid type of thing– a collaboration of disparate artists uniting behind a relief effort (victims of the south Asia tsunami)– but this time, all of the artists are old as dirt and way past their primes and the song slips out of memory as soon as it ends.  It’s really a depressing effort in so many ways, but the good part is that Brian has one of the fullest voices in the song.  Otherwise, it’s padded with old Bee Gees and other Beach Boys squeaking out ugly harmonies with bad lyrics written by a nobody and featuring Cliff Richard, one of those strange English-speaking multimedia megastars who has been knighted in the U.K. but whose name remains basically unknown over here.  Enjoy “Grief Never Grows Old!”

Endless Bummer 1: “This Car of Mine”

With this entry I begin a recurring series featuring one particularly “skippable” song from the Beach Boys backlog.  It may be a dreaded “bull session” from an early album; it could be one of their many weak covers; and it will likely feature the entirety of the Beach Boys’ Party! album– you know, whatever doesn’t strike me.

The dishonor of first post goes to a track from Shut Down, Volume 2, the same album that wields “Fun, Fun, Fun,” “Don’t Worry Baby,” and “The Warmth of the Sun.”  It finishes out  the first side and features a stuffy, strained vocal by Dennis along with some uninteresting harmonies from the rest.  It’s called “This Car of Mine,” and boy, does it sputter!

Dennis Wilson: Troublemaker

The song has a decent, full track like any Beach Boys offering after Surfin’ Safari, complete with bright piano and chunky bass on top of a shuffle beat like in “Little Deuce Coupe” or “Little Saint Nick,” but everything else falls pretty flat.  There are moments in the song that might as well be dead air.  The middle eight with everyone singing, “This car of mine,” is long enough to cover even the most cavernous yawn.  The “diddly-ho-ho” and half-improvisation by Dennis to see the song out makes you root for the coming silence.  Dennis– who for some reason has fierce devotees who think he was just as talented as Brian– fumbles the double-tracking for the entire duration of the song.  The melody sounds like Brian trying to do another simple song in the Stephen Foster style (see “Farmer’s Daughter” for a successful example), but what he achieves is another forgettable filler track to insulate the really great singles and relegate yet another early Beach Boys album to a 3-out-of-5-stars status.

Pick-Apart 2: “Pom Pom Play Girl”

“Pom Pom Play Girl” is one of my favorite non-hit Beach Boys tracks.  It was recorded February 20, 1964 for release on March 2.  The song has all the features that make a great Beach Boys song: a distinct, strong melody; a thick wall of backing vocals; a healthy rhythm section; verses split between singers; innuendo-laced lyrics about high school society; modulation (albeit a little clumsy); and even some spoken word.

That’s all great, but what really impresses me is the lead vocal by Carl Wilson, which happens to be his first ever lead vocal, which is surprising considering this song is on their fifth album.  He would sing again, more notably, on “God Only Knows” and “Good Vibrations,” but I love him here.  He’s a great middle range between Brian and Mike.  The others, of course, could sing in this range and do well, but it’s hard to imagine either doing it better.  Carl was the youngest Beach Boy– just 17 at the time– but proved his voice was just as full as Mike’s, just as smooth as Brian’s, and just plain all-around better than either Dennis “Do You Wanna Dance” Wilson’s or Al “Help Me, Rhonda” Jardine’s.

Musically, the song begins with a Jan-and-Dean-esque kick-start (think “The Little Old Lady from Pasadena”) as a sort of announcement: “This song is called ‘Pom Pom Play Girl’ and now we’re going to sing it.”  They had used these little momentum-building breaks to launch several other songs, like “Surfers Rule,” “Catch A Wave,” and “Shut Down.”  With momentum built, Carl starts in while the rest of the group lays on the “ooo” really thick, incorporates some cheerleader sounds (“chu-chu-nom!”), and brings it all back home to “Rah rah pom pom play girl.”

And it’s another song where Mike Love shines, lyrically and vocally.  He takes the end of each verse to new lows– but really new heights– with his God-sent bass vocal, and rounds off the lines just in time for a new kick-start.  The lyrics may not be profound, but just like in “No-Go Showboat,” they sound great.  The song is fast, fun, and full of energy, leaving you begging for more as it fades out in barely 90 seconds over a triple (?) modulation and some dirty sexual stuff.  Please listen!

P.S.– An album’s worth of Beach Boys’ songs built around a high school theme is in the works.  I’ll post it soon, so stay tuned!

Dennis Wilson: “Good Morning, America– I’m Wasted!”

Today’s video may be a difficult one to watch, especially for Dennis Wilson fans.  In it, a drunk/high/whatever Dennis cannot sit up straight on “Good Morning, America.”  Recorded in 1980, three years before Dennis literally drowned, this clip shows what a mess he and the Beach Boys were.  Carl is rightfully pissed off (but also kind of a douche), Brian is still fighting the demons, and everyone else has to laugh to ease the tension.  Mike seems healthy and ready to collect some more cash, while Al Jardine sits silently, as he should.  Joan Lunden tosses soft, sometimes corny questions– “Do you have ‘good vibrations’ about where you’re going to be going in the future with the group?”– and everyone braces for Dennis’s impending vulgar gesture, profane tirade, etc.  I don’t know how or why Dennis showed up, but I’m glad he did, if only for his surprisingly sober point near the end: “[Brian] is the only force in the Beach Boys.  He’s the reason we’re all sitting here.”

John Lennon Meets Brian Wilson, Again

This story comes from groovyrick, who relays a story that Alice Cooper told him.  Try to follow along:

I’ve seen Alice in concert a couple of times, and met him twice.  The first time I met him, someone told him that I was a major Brian Wilson fan.  Alice immediately smiled and stated that he was also a major fan, and a good friend of Brian’s.  He also said that he had a GREAT Brian Wilson story to tell me.

From this point, I will let Alice tell the story:

“I was sitting backstage after the 1974 Grammys with Bernie Taupin (Elton John’s lyricist) and John Lennon.  This was when Brian was really having some mental issues.  During the course of the conversation, I kept seeing Brian out of the corner of my eye, just kind of staring at us from different angles.  Finally, he came up to the table, bent down and whispered in my ear, ‘Hey Alice, introduce me to John Lennon.’ I couldn’t BELIEVE that these two men had never met!  They were virtually neck and neck in the 60’s as the greatest bands on the planet, and I’m SURE they must have crossed paths at some point.  But then I thought to myself, ‘Wow, if they REALLY have never met, I’m going to be the one to introduce them and become a part of rock history!’  So I merely said, ‘Brian Wilson, this is John Lennon.  John Lennon, this is Brian Wilson.’  Lennon was very cordial and polite, saying things like, ‘Hello Brian, I’ve always wanted to meet you.  I’ve always admired your work, and Paul and I considered Pet Sounds one of the best albums ever made.’ Brian thanked him and walked away, at which point Lennon went right back to his conversation like nothing had happened.  About ten minutes later, Brian came by our table again, leaned down and whispered something to Bernie, and all of a sudden, Bernie was saying, ‘Brian Wilson, this is John Lennon.  John Lennon, Brian Wilson.’  Lennon was just as cordial and polite as the first time, saying essentially the same thing about always wanting to meet him.  As soon as Brian walked away, John looked at both of us and casually said in his typical Liverpudlian accent, ‘I’ve met him hundreds of times.  He’s not well, you know.’”

Alice went on to say that he loves Brian, and later that night went with a group of people to Brian’s house and went into his studio to add and subtract instruments and passages from Beach Boys songs.  I don’t know what was funnier to me…the punchline of the story, or listening to Alice Cooper try to talk like John Lennon.

Songs about Brian Wilson

Brian and his Meltdown Story were presented for a new generation back in the ’90′s when Barenaked Ladies had a hit with “Brian Wilson,” although most youngsters (myself included) probably didn’t realize it.  To a lot of people, “Brian Wilson” was a mysterious, maybe even fictional character who lay in bed and whose name fit the rhythm required for the song.  If you could make out any other lyrics, it said something about “going insane” and “conditioning” and “compulsion”– it was just another “Mr. Jones” by Counting Crows!  Beach Boys fans could probably make out “Smiley Smile” and “Dr. Landy” and “Fun, Fun, Fun” and be glad that someone was going in depth about Brian in a hit song.  I’m glad the song was a hit since, to use church youth group terminology, it must have “planted a seed” in a lot of kids’ minds and made them look twice at any mention of Brian.  I remember asking my dad when I was about 13 years old, “Who is Brian Wilson?” when I heard the song in our family car on one of our yearly trips to Myrtle Beach.

“The guy from the Beach Boys who kinda went crazy.”

“Oh”–I didn’t care at all about the Beach Boys as a tween, I just thought they were annoying and corny and got lucky with “Don’t Worry Baby” and “Good Vibrations” and that was all– why would the Barenaked Ladies be concerned with the Beach Boys?!  As I’ve discovered over the last several years, there are several other bands (mostly crappy) that are concerned enough with Brian to have written songs about him:

–Tears for Fears – “Brian Wilson Said”

This song sucks.  I picked the album up (it also sucks) for a buck at a thrift store to hear what they might have to say about Brian, especially since “Head Over Heels” and “Everybody Wants To Rule The World” sound very Beach Boys in parts.  Apparently, Brian Wilson actually said very little to them:

 

–John Cale – “Mr. Wilson”

This is the ultimate tribute song: it takes cues from its inspiration but doesn’t do a shitty emulation (see above); it’d be a good song anyway; it’s a direct, unabashed fan letter from someone who is great on his own (Velvet Underground plus solo albums Paris 1919, Vintage Violence, and Slow Dazzle).  I especially like the chorus (he’s from Wales, by the way):

And you know it’s true,

That Wales is not like Californ-i-a in any way,

And when I listen to your music,

You’re still thousands of miles away.

 

–The Lost Dogs – “Jesus Loves You, Brian Wilson”

This is about what you’d expect, except it’s surprisingly well-produced.  The Lost Dogs is a Christian supergroup (huh?), so I guess the “Jesus loves you” part isn’t ironic at all.  It sounds like Brian’s current backing band– good singers and musicians but without much soul– and it seems like an earnest appreciation, it’s just a shame that they had to include a Christian message to feel OK about admiring a mortal.  It ends up being another emulation, albeit better than the Tears for Fears outing:

 

There are a few others that fall into the “Unknown Band Doing a Forgettable Tribute” category.  An example:

–The Hormones – “Mr. Wilson”

 

–Then there’s The Sands of Time, formerly The Tokens, of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” (1961) fame, doing a song called “Tribute to the Beach Boys, ’76″ (clever!).  They are emulators that succeed on the same level as The Lost Dogs, which is to say decent performers paying tribute about as well as anyone could who lacks great songwriting ability.

 

–Mike Love – “Brian’s Back”

This is a strange one.  Written by Mike Love in the late ’70′s (no doubt to cash in on the “Brian’s Back” campaign), it wasn’t released until the Endless Harmony documentary soundtrack in 1998.  It’s typical Brian-less Beach Boys– uninspired, uninspiring, flat, depressing and corny.  Mike Love rerecorded the song in 2005 for his own unreleased album Mike Love, Not War (Mike’s SMiLE?!?) and changed it up some, using his son to fill in where Carl Wilson sang on the original.

 

–And finally, there’s this uber-’70′s tribute from Chris Rainbow, who almost sounds like Jon & Vangelis or Christopher Cross or any of various soft rock icons of the day.  ”Dear Brian” is another not-terrible song that is performed well that doesn’t just emulate the Beach Boys– worth one listen:

 

For the most part, these songs make me appreciate Brian even more, just not in the way that the artists intended.