
Don’t start with me.
I know my alphabet.
But when records
are inside ordered boxes
as opposed to long
uninterrupted shelves,
it’s easy to sneak an
artist into a box
before it belongs.
Bears go before Beat
and Beatles, and Beach
goes before Bears
and Boys go before
Houses. The other
benefit of going
through my collection
in this way is the
opportunity to rectify
improper alphabetizing.
Let us go back, then,
to The Beach Boys.
I was never a fan.
Only until recently
did I discover the
true genius of the Pet Sounds
album. I have that CD.
It’s an essential record.
This thing, Surf’s Up,
with the incongruous
cover depicting a native
warrior on a horse,
is the only Beach Boys
record I have in my
vinyl collection,
an album bequeathed
to me by a brother-in-law
who died from cancer
a couple of years ago now.
“Don’t go near the water”
is the first line of the first
song on the record.
Apparently, the water’s contaminated.
About the last thing
I’d expect to hear from
The Beach Boys.
You can’t surf it or drink it.
You don’t even want
to go near it.
A little research reveals
that Brian Wilson was less
involved in this record than
anything that came before,
and it’s evident, because
this is not what I expect
when I put on a Beach Boys
record. Some of the backup
vocals have that distinctive
choir boy effect, but
this thing is all over the map
and you won’t (to my limited
knowledge, anyway) hear a lyric
on any earlier Beach Boys
record like this one:
“the pen is mightier than
the sword, but no match for a gun.”
Side one ends with a song
that references the Kent State
riot and subsequent murder
of protesters in 1970.
Side two has a psychedelic
folk vibe, acoustic guitars,
an organ song, yeah, organ,
(are those birds?)
and sweet vocals, a song
about a dying tree,
a cork on the ocean,
a rock in a landslide.
Brian comes into the last
three songs, and then,
still miles away from a surf
board, that falsetto rings
out with these dense
and heartbreaking melodies.
Notes on the vinyl edition: Surf’s Up, Brother/Reprise Records, 1971.