NOTE:
Here are the books that for one reason or another, create their own
niche in the Beach Boys canon. For this reason, they can go
either way on the taste scale. But for whatever reason, they
stand alone, and fans need to tread carefully. Hopefully this
guide will be helpful to you in making your own choices. These
reviews are solely my own opinion.The
Beach BoysDean Anthony, 1985; Crescent Books,
64 p.
(out of five)
"In
1965 pop had reached a watershed. If the last two years had seen the
emergence of the beat group - simple, effervescent and fun - the next
two years were going to be an altogether artier affair. Everything was
getting just a bit more serious. Suddenly Lennon and McCartney were
classic composers, Bob Dylan was a poet and the Rolling Stones were the
precursors of new attitudes among the young. . . This was pop exploring
new ground and Brian Wilson wanted to take the Beach Boys there. He
became obsessed, watched their every move and craved the critical
plaudits they were afforded."
[pg. 30]
I recall
passing this book up a couple of years ago, and now, having finally
bought it, I remember why. With next-to-nothing in the way of text, I
can't call this a 'biography'. Mr. Anthony has done nothing more than
compile a photo album (mostly from the mid-to-late seventies), slap
together a few off-the-cuff biographical paragraphs, and call it a
book. Some of the pictures are completely off the subject. . . a full
page of Ringo Starr? Or Hank Williams Jr.? Or how about some
ridiculously pointless shots of the audience? Oooo. . . be still my
beating heart. There are a couple of good photos of the band, but
nothing special, and the text is only there so Mr. Anthony could take
credit as "author." A low-grade entry in the Beach Boys' canon.
Whale
Music Paul Quarrington, 1990; Doubleday,
228 p.
"When
the music ends I brace myself. "All right, Sal," I sigh
wearily. He is head A and R man at Galaxy, how could I have
forgotten that, he is the Joseph Goebbels of popular music.
He will tell me how wonderful this music is, then he will evoke the
name of the great god Mammon, he will speak of demographics and
marketing stratagems, if you don't want to hang around to hear it, I
can certainly sympathize. First of all, though, like any good record
executive, he has to pull at his chin and pretend to be deep in thought. "It's even better than I thought it would
be," Sal
announces, a novel prelude, not that I'm fooled. . . ."But,"
I remind him. "But?" "But
it's not commercial, but
the kids won't like it, but
it won't get air play, but
record stores wouldn't stock it if it came with a free gram of
cocaine." [pg.
135]
A really odd book. In what may be
the
first of its kind, here we have a fictionalized account of the Beach
Boys! Essentially a barely-concealed retelling of the life of
Brian Wilson (now named Desmond Howl) and the life and death of Dennis
Wilson (renamed Danny here). Mr. Quarrington's sole claim to
artistic merit is in attempting to portray Brian's thoughts during his
reclusive 1973-1983 years, with the character Desmond trying
desperately to complete his masterpiece "Whale Music" (read
"Smile"). All the while acting eccentric and neurotic yet
strangely in tune with everyone around him. It's an
intriguing idea: trying to get into the head of one of rock music's
greatest enigmas, but while reading it, I felt that the author was
over-analytical and too clever by half by using obscure literary
references, throwing in "alternate reality" lyrics which are
occasionally funny but mostly dumb, or simply trying to titilate the
reader with an almost endless amount of graphic sexual references, all
of which are crude and debasing (including a scene during a concert
when the lead character gets turned on by watching his
mother.) I spent most of my time while reading it trying to
figure out who the author was referencing with his pseudonyms, rather
than being pulled in by the story. What disturbed me the most
is how vapid the characters are, and how, at the end of the book, when
the author attempts to create a cathartic state of grace for Desmond at
the unveiling of his masterpiece, it feels empty. But the
entire novel feels false: an overthought retelling of what most fans
already know.
Denny
Remembered: Dennis Wilson in
Words and
Pictures Edward
Wincentsen, 1991; Vergin Press, 197 p.
My
father once told me that love could not be begged, borrowed or
stolen. Only given. I may not have been able to
spend as much time with my father as I would have liked to, but the
time that I did spend with him was the most valued a child could
have. He was very special to me ... as I know I was to him. .
. I respected my father with all my heart and soul. I watched
as he constantly gave away all that he had to others, asking nothing in
return but the satisfaction they received from what he gave
them. I only wish I could have spent more time with
him. To tell him how very much I loved him. I know
that my Dad is at peace now, and that puts my mind at ease. I
love you Dad. [tribute from
Jennifer Beth Wilson, pg 107]
A tender and touching tribute to the late
Dennis
Wilson, "Denny Remembered" is a fond, funny, touching and intimate
portrait of the quintessential Beach Boy. Actually little
more than a fan magazine expanded to book size, Mr. Wincentsen has
pulled together dozens of black and white photos of Dennis, along with
numerous writings from fans and writers such as Domenic Priore, Fred
Vail, and David Leaf. Also included are song lyrics (from
Lindsay Buckingham and Christine McVie), poems and stories written by
fans, reminiscing from the author, and most touching: written tributes
from five of Dennis's six children (Gage being only one year old when
his father died.) A tribute like this can be syrupy and
overdone, but Mr. Wincentsen has done a very tasteful, stylish job of
gathering together pieces from many different sources and presenting
them here.
Glimpses:
A Novel Lewis Shiner, 1993; William
Morrow
&
Co., 331 p.
"It
took Brian six days to finish Smile, like Jehovah in the Old Testament.
I watched it come together and I saw why nobody else could have
reconstructed it from the tapes in the vaults. It was like
the Tommy Tedesco guitar part. Nobody but Brian knew what the
missing pieces were, and the missing pieces changed
everything. .
. . "Capitol's not going to like it," Anderele said. "Here's
what you say," I told him. "You say, 'You guys may not sell a
million units of this today. But you will
eventually. You'll still be selling copies of this record in
twenty years.' Then you should have Derek Taylor give an
acetate to the Beatles. McCartney especially. Maybe
he'll give you a quote you can use in publicity." "A
quote?" Anderele said. "Like on a book cover or something?" "Why
not? You have to market this as a work of genius, not a piece
of disposable pop." I was wired, ecstatic. It was
so close. "It
could work," Anderele said. "It might actually
work." Brian
came out a half an hour later. He was smiling." [pg.
140]
Here's the
ultimate
conceit of a Beach Boys fanatic: imagine that you're a loser
stereo repairman who suddenly discovers that you have the power to
conjur up lost music from the heyday of the 1960s and capture it on
tape. Not only that, but you can transport yourself into the past and
mingle with real-life characters like Jim Morrison, The Beatles, Brian
Wilson, and Jimi Hendrix, and influence their lives to a
degree. What do you do? Why, if you're fictional
fanboy Ray Shackleford, you "Get Back" and make right all of the tragic
wrongs of the time. No, I'm not talking about saving
President Kennedy or Martin Luther King -- Lewis Shiner knows what the
public really needs: more great music! In the case of the
Beach Boys, the choice is obvious: link up with Brian Wilson and get
him to complete "Smile." A fantastical puree' of "What If"
combined with omniscient 20/20 hindsight sets the tone for this
off-kilter fable of a perfect world. Well-written, with just
enough chutzpah to pull it off, I have to admit that as a read,
"Glimpses" is a guilty pleasure, and Lewis Shiner manages to make the
reader suspend disbelief for long enough to get the story
told. On the down side, there's really not a lot of character
development on the part of these famous 60s icons; just a brief skim
off the top; and the author tends to make it all a little too easy for
Ray Shackleford: he can shove aside Mike Love, worm his way into
Brian's inner circle and talk Brian into saving "Smile" in less that a
chapter. Now don't you wish it really had been that
easy?
The Beach Boys: In Their Own WordsNick Wise, 1994;
Omnibus Press, 112 p.
"Few
groups in the history of rock have washed their dirty laundry in public
as enthusiastically as The Beach Boys. If Mike wasn't
criticising Brian and Dennis for their errant ways, then Dennis was
telling Mike to go take a hike, and while Brian was up to his neck in
sand and dope, Carl was simply wishing everyone would stop bickering
and get on with it, while poor little Al just shrugged his shoulders
and shut up like he was told. And along came Bruce who took
his cue and waded in like the best of them."
[pg. 5]
Now here's a book for the nineties: a sound
bite
package of odds and ends quotations by the Beach Boys, perfect for any
occasion. Need a quick stab of authority for the
newsgroup? Here's Mike, telling Brian not to "f*** with the
formula." Granted, there's no reference as to exactly when he
said it, or who heard him say it, but it's there. In fact,
the biggest flaw in this book is that while the quotes are interesting
in their way, there's no documentation as to when or where the quote
was made. Was it for an interview? Reported by a
close friend? Was it said at all? Who
knows? But it's in print now, and so it must be
true! Divided into chapters by subject, we get quick bits of
"The Early Days," "The Records," "Surf Music and it's image," "Good
Vibrations," "Bad Vibrations," yadda, yadda, yadda and all the
rest. An enjoyable, quick read. Check your brain at
the door.
The Dark
Stuff: Selected Writings on
Rock
Music 1972-1995 Nick
Kent, 1995; DaCapo Press, 379 p.
"The
king of California, with madness in his eyes and vomit on his
'jammies': it was the Citizen Kane of all great rocky-horror stories,
but for me it was more personal. I remember being thirteen or fourteen
years old and to escape from the ravages of adolescence I'd go into
record shops to study Beach Boys album covers for what seemed like
hours on end. . . . 'Fun' wasn't a concept I was too personally attuned
to at this point in my life and I can't begin to tell you how exciting
it felt to stand there holding photographic proof that it actually
existed somewhere - albeit thousands of miles away from the land-locked
dumps I found myself inhabiting." [pg.
4]
Nick Kent is one of those authors who likes
to
spew his opinions all over the page. "The Dark Stuff," which
is a good description not only of the grim subject matter the author
tackles but the psychology of the writer as he bends light away from
the reader in this relentlessly downputting book. Filled with
biting description and loads
of profanity, Nick
Kent not only writes about the dessicated lives of rock stars, he
successfully pulls the reader in to experience those lives themselves
-- making this very visceral reading -- not always a good
thing. The book begins with a long chapter on Brian Wilson
from when the author first met him in the mid-seventies. He
discusses when Paul McCartney came to visit, and his editor's rabid
dismissal of Wilson as a vital musical force -- but the author also
tries to hash out in the limited amount of space a biography of Wilson,
his torrential relationship with his father Murray, the sometimes
acrimonious relationship between him and the Beach Boys, and his
downward spiral into drug abuse and near-total seclusion.
It's riveting writing, but it's also a real downer, and for that reason
it recieves only a qualified recommendation.
The Beach
Boys:
The Musical Evolution Of America's Band Robert G. Anstey, 2004; West Coast
Paradise
Publishing, 160 p.
"Anyone
who has bootlegs from the Smile
sessions knows that there was some real magic there and that Brian
really had something going. It was a special time and he was
a special genius who knew what he was doing. Yes, his vision
got shaken up at the end of the sessions and he lost his focus a bit
but when he was in control of things, the music was out of this
world. The Beach Boys versions of those songs from the Smile
sessions on the Smiley Smile
album are
very disappointing and even they knew that they had fallen
short on the project." [pg.
72]
If notorious filmmaker Ed Wood had
been a huge Beach Boys fan, and instead of making atrocious movies
had written all his musings on bits of notepaper and then
published them, this book would be the result. Canadian
Robert G. Anstey, a self-made author, editor, and songwriter
of several hundred pieces, has published this tribute to
America's Band, and done nobody a service in the process.
Disjointed, repetitive in the extreme, and written
without a hint of style or insight, this book needed some
serious reshaping and editing before seeing the light of
day. Filled with mundane, vague statements,
conjecture, and glaring mistakes, I was shocked that this
author, a reputed editor/publisher of a poetry and prose
magazine, repeatedly uses blatant cliches, bland
description, and pitiable rhymes throughout (he includes
lyrics to a few of his "Beach Boys" songs in the index -
here's a sample):
"They sang
about beaches and surfing
and cars and girls too
they toured all over the USA
they were sure a good-looking crew" ["Back To
Basics" pg. 150]
Bob
Dylan he's
not. What's most puzzling about this book is that for a
reputed author of more than 125 books (including over fifty-three
volumes of his song lyrics!!), is how little continuity and flow there
is between chapters; it just rambles from subject to subject, covering
biographical information, album reviews, historical exposition and
whatever else happens to cross the author's mind. Anstey
states in the foreword that the book grew out of a series of articles
he's written over the years, and apologizes
beforehand that there might be some repetition - all
well and good, but it reads like a series of sticky notes that have
been thrown together in the most haphazard fashion, and it
becomes evident early on that Mr. Anstey has no insider knowledge of
what he's writing, that his "facts" are sometimes completely false (he
claims early on that Dennis "fell off" his boat "The
Harmony" when he drowned), and all that the readers are
getting are his personal musings on his favorite band. If Mr.
Anstey wrote with even a smidgen of humor, talent or style, I could
recommend this book on those merits, but this is the blandest, most
superficial treatise on the Beach Boys that I've ever had the
misfortune to read. Of cursory interest only, and only
available for purchase from the author.
The Beach
Boys: Pet Sounds Jim Fusilli, 2005;
Continuum
International
Publishing Group, 121 p.
[Pet
Sounds] really is a gift to
those of us who need
it. It so perfectly captures a perspective that isn't part of
the daily discussion. I mean, people don't go around telling
each other how alienated they feel, and how divorced they feel from the
emotions others so readily access, and how they desperately want love
and acceptance and yet fear what may come if they grow accustomed to
them and then these vital elements of life suddenly go away.
If someone does talk about these things, it's rarely with such
eloquence and clarity. With
Pet Sounds,
we hear what Brian thought and felt, and his thoughts and feelings are
communicated not only through lyrics, but also through often
disorienting music that wheedles its way into our subconscious.
[pg. 117]
When
I heard that another book about Pet
Sounds was
coming out, I have to admit that I gave a small inward groan.
After all, we already have two fine books covering the same ground, and
there have been literally hundreds of smaller essays and articles
written; what could another add to the mountain of published
literature? Thankfully, author Jim Fusilli is no
slouch. Music reporter for the Wall Street Journal and
continuing contributer to National Public Radio's "All Things
Considered," Fusilli is a keen observer and eloquent writer, bringing a
fresh perspective to this seminal album with wit and pathos.
He starts by talking about the forces that shaped his own childhood,
notably Walt Disney - from watching Walt host his weekly show on TV,
and from viewing endless films and TV shows, Mr. Fusilli had a
utopian vision of California imprinted on his mind. I laughed
out loud when I read a description of Annette Funicello as "an Italian
sparkplug." But this autobiographical introduction to the
book works perfectly, humanizing the author to his audience, and
letting us know exactly where he's coming from. And despite
the slimness of the book, Fusilli doesn't simply dive into analyzing
the album, (he doesn't really dig in until page 41) he
unfolds, in a very gentle way, the history of the Beach Boys in both
professional and a deeply intimate portrait. Mr. Fusilli
knows of what he writes as well, infusing his song-by-song
examinations with his clear, intuitive understanding of the what
makes each song tick. He's even lightly
critical of several numbers, which I frankly admire, having
read several like-minded articles that place Pet
Sounds
on an unattainable pedestal. I felt as I was reading this that
I at last understood how Pet
Sounds came about;
the shadowy psyche of Brian Wilson became a little clearer, reflected
in the dark mirror of his art and here illuminated for my
eyes. The songs are examined one by one, with pertinent
quotes from most of the major players, from Marilyn Wilson to Brian
himself, with several small facts thrown in that I hadn't
recalled reading anywhere else. This book, part of a series
of acclaimed books about individual albums, is published by Continuum Books,
and is a fine addition to your Beach Boys library.
I unreservedly recommend it.
Sloop
John B: A Pirates Tale (May 1, 2005) Text by Al
Jardine, Illustrated by Jimmy Pickering; Milk & Cookies, 32 p.
"We
sailed into a fog,
according to the captain's log.
That's when the pirate ship
came alongside.
I
heard a voice roar,
"We're coming aboard."
I told my grandpa
we both better hide!
...I
almost cried.
I was hiding inside.
Then I saw a pirate,
asleep on the floor." [pgs.
8-12]
Before I begin the
review, let
me confess something. In my regular-guy job, I'm a children's
librarian, a job I've held now for twelve years. So
lest anyone think I don't know what I'm talking about, I most certainly
do. Sloop John B: A
Pirate's Tale is a
weak attempt at turning the popular folk song and seminal Beach Boys'
hit into a story fit for children, and while the illustrations (by
Jimmy Pickering) are bright and engaging, Al Jardine's conversion of
the original lyric into a more kid-friendly maritime adventure is flat
and lacking any kind of humor or dramatic punch that will make this
book appealing to any but the most undiscerning children and their poor
parents. The idea isn't a bad one; other folk songs have been
successfully transformed into picture books, (Pete Seeger's Abiyoyo
is one that springs to mind), but Al visibly struggles to keep the
story in rhyme (the better to use as a lyric on the accompanying CD -
more about that later), but his rhyming is stale and predictable, and
the story that's spun around the new lyric jettisons much of the
original story-song (guess we can't have people getting drunk in a
kid's book, eh?) and tacks on a non-sensical and disjointed appearance
by a generic band of pirates who do nothing except eat the
protagonist's corn and make the grandfather walk the plank, only to be
saved by the sudden appearance of a constable who just takes the
pirates into custody without even a fight. The story is so
weak, that the parent who reads this to his child could easily come up
with a more exciting narrative for the pictures than the one Mr.
Jardine has invented. The CD which accompanies the book is a
"sing-along" version re-recorded by Alan, which unfortunately doesn't
have the good graces to match the words in the book, and the music
itself has been stripped of Brian Wilson's brilliant production touches
and left with a deflated, 'jamaican-lite' arrangement that's about as
exciting as a spelling test. An all-around weak-effort by
Alan Jardine, who should be told not to give up his day job any time
soon.
Brian
Wilson: An Art Book Edited
by Alex Farquharson; Four Corners
Press, 115
p.
"[Michael]
Moore's use of "Wouldn't It Be Nice"
[in the film
Roger & Me] brings
out its sardonic
aspect. It's a side to the song that gets stronger the more
you listen to it, and the older you get. The tinkly,
merry-go-round intro sounds like its preparing us to
condescend to whatever follows. The sentiment
"wouldn't it be nice" seems trivial, "nice" being such a vague and
babyish adjective. It is as if the boy is unable to describe
or even feel the specific quality and grain of the emotional life he is
wishing for... He can only imagine it as a quantitative change, or more
of what he already has - like wanting more cake or more pie. ...The
song seems to mock the young couple, or the boy at least. It
seems to mock his failure to know himself and grasp the value of what
he already has. It makes his hope seem
preposterous." Domenic
Willsdon ~ pg. 36
Mike Love would hate
this
book. Not only does it take Brian Wilson seriously, it takes
him waaaaaayy too seriously for its own good. That being
said, however, Brian Wilson:
An Art Book is an
interesting read, being a dual collection of essays, musings, and
full-color photos of artwork which the editor, Alex Farquharson claims
is inspired, or at least in the spirit of, the music of Brian
Wilson. Occasionally light and frothy, but more often heavy
and intellectual, the various authors take the high road in their
pursuit of the meaning of Brian Wilson's music, and, for the most part,
succeed in writing entertaining, thought-provoking essays.
Subject matter includes a full-bore dissection of "Wouldn't It Be Nice"
(quoted in the essay above); a mini-biography on Brian by Peter Blake
(who designed the artwork for Brian's Gettin'
In Over My Head album);
a colorful
description of Los Angeles by Andrew Gellatly; a line-by-line prose
dissection of "Guess I'm Dumb" by Jennifer Higgie; a written portrait
of Brian Wilson performing Pet
Sounds live by
Thomas Demand; a brief appreciation of "Good Vibrations" by John
McCracken; a few treatises on "SMiLE;" and much more besides.
The essays are, for the most part, exercises in intelligentia, with
lots of footnotes, and words that cost significantly more than ten
dollars apiece. Not exactly my cup of tea, but never
devolving into that kind of scholarly self-parody which fills modern
universities. The second half of the book is where I lament
the small dimensions chosen. Art needs to be seen in large
canvasses, and the book, which is scarcely larger than a trade
paperback, leaves the pictures sorely
compressed. Art appreciation not being my strong suit, I
shall suffice to say that some of the 'art' presented is directly
linkable to Brian Wilson/the Beach Boys; some is loosely inspired by
their music; and several of the pieces I see no connection at
all. I give kudos anyway to the authors, artists and editor
for trying something different, and in so doing, creating a unique
tribute to Brian Wilson.
Beach
Boys Vs. Beatlemania: Rediscovering Sixties Music
G.A.
De Forest; Booklocker.com, Inc., 448 p.
"Despite
[The Beatles] "Luv, Luv, Luv" mantra, nasty personal politics emerged
in breakup as all burst into song unflattering to all - tit for tat
attacks in unbounded superstar self-indulgence, abusing their exalted
position to demean their art form. Yet because the group died
violently in its prime (and resisted all pleas for a rebirth) the
Princess Diana Effect mummifies a far-fetched pristine image.
There is no question of speaking ill of their legacy, and an objective
reappraisal of their value will wait until all media contemporaries in
their thrall have retired from the airwaves. While the
Beatles weren't responsible for every loopy gesture of fandom a finger
points at them for hyping it... Their unbounded, unconditional success
has a lot to answer for in foisting a travesty on the musical world,
preventing a genuinely new course for modern popular music.
They could be accused of corrupting rock in their own way as much as
the tame Elvis lookalikes they allegedly saved rock 'n' roll
from." [pg. 137]
REVIEW: G.A. De
Forest, the author of Beach Boys vs. Beatlemania,
has written a book
that is both fascinating and frustrating. The germ of his
premise, that The Beatles undeservedly ripped away The Beach Boys'
rightful crown as 60s music gods, has been endlessly debated in the
bands' various forums for decades, and this polarizing book
regularly succumbs to "fighting words" in casting a blind eye towards
The Beach Boys personal faults, while pillorying The
Beatles at every opportunity. Beatles fans: watch
out.
The author casts a wide net, using his impressive grasp
of musical trends and various genre's
tidal forces to knit together an enlightening overview of the era's
rapidly-changing
soundscape. In this regard, the book strongly reminded me of
the similarly epochal Nearest Faraway Place
by late author and editor
Timothy White, and in a comparative degree, I found it difficult to
navigate the numerous side-roads onto which the author
swerves.
Often, a paragraph is so stuffed with references to other artists and
singles that it takes a visible effort to leap back to a
chapter's original premise. The
author also makes some strange comparative leaps early on - for
instance, the odd lambasting of The Osmonds (?) who didn't appear on
the
scene until a decade after the appearance of The Beach Boys.
The most damning aspect of the book, however, is the unrelenting
bilious tone adopted towards The Beatles. The author's
transparent campaign of leveraged, personal attacks on their character,
backgrounds, songwriting abilities, and successes is unremitting in its
vehemence and ferocity - it's made perfectly clear that the author
believes The Beatles to be no-talent poseurs
who owe all their success to others. And although the author
quotes several front-line sources who appear to agree with his
assertions, there are
no opposing viewpoints sought, or given, and the sad end result reads
like a semi-hysterical rant, or a very bad case of sour
grapes.
As someone who grew up loving The Beatles, but ended
up preferring The Beach Boys, I understand the feeling of being a
fan of an under-appreciated band, but the book's arguments would have
been better served if the author had paired with a knowledgeable
Beatles biographer to write the alternating histories of each band,
which would have lent the book a semblance of
even-handedness.
That being said, Beach
Boys vs. Beatlemania is worth
picking for for the author's panoramic
view of musical trends, and for his often arresting glimpses into pop
music's most volatile era. Fifty Sides Of The Beach Boys: The Songs
That Tell Their Story
by
Mark Dillon; ECW Press, 316 p.
Published June 1, 2012
Reflecting
on the Beach Boys' long, fascinating history, this book tells the story
behind 50 of the band's greatest songs from the perspective of group
members, collaborators, fellow musicians, and notable fans. It is
filled with new interviews with music legends such as Brian Wilson,
Mike Love, Alan Jardine, Bruce Johnston, David Marks, Blondie Chaplin,
Randy Bachman, Roger McGuinn, John Sebastian, Lyle Lovett, Alice
Cooper, and Al Kooper, and commentary from a younger generation such as
Matthew Sweet, Carnie Wilson, Daniel Lanois, Cameron Crowe, and Zooey
Deschanel.
REVIEW: This neat little
square book, about the size of a 45 single, is a fun read.
For music fans who are just now discovering The Beach Boys
through the interest generated by the band's 50th Anniversary tour,
this book might be an ideal introduction, for it not only is a compact
introduction to fifty of The Beach Boys most influential songs, it also
serves as an short introduction to the band members, and the artists
who their music influenced. I went into this book expecting more
of a musical biography, since the Beach Boys have used their music to a
large degree in revealing their personal lives (i.e.; "I'm Bugged At My
Old Man" or "Caroline, No") - but author Mark Dillon instead has pulled
together a vast range of interested others, including musicians,
authors, and band members, to discuss why certain songs are important
to them, or how they impacted society at large. So you might have
Alice Cooper on "In My Room", and then jump to Bruce Johnston, or
Blondie Chaplin, or Mike Love, or Tony Asher, or Hal Blaine, Roger
McGuinn, etc., etc. Fifty songs, fifty different people.
And although each song receives about a four-page discussion,
this isn't really in-depth analysis of the songs; in fact one of my
quibbles with the book is how often the discussion veers away from the
songs they're supposed to be discussing, and instead looks at the
interviewee's own life and career. Eh - it's still interesting, but if
you're planning on purchasing this book expecting deep dissection of
either the Beach Boys or their private lives, look elsewhere.
This is a fun, sometimes surprising look at the Beach Boys
catalog, with personal tidbits strewn about, and short anecdotal
stories woven throughout the narrative. A very enjoyable, quick
read, although I'm also miffed that my own personal favorite Beach Boys
song wasn't included. (if you want to know, it's "You're So Good To
Me"); maybe they'll be a Volume 2?