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After seriously digging my copy of Castle/Sanctuary's
corny but brilliant compilation Goin Back-The Songs of Goffin/King, which features obscure 60s British acts doing
equally rare Carole King songs, I was psyched when I got my hands
on this UK Beach Boys covers disc to discover that it embodies the
identical concept.- In this case, we have a CD full of versions
of Beach Boys songs recorded back in the day by contemporary but lesser
UK recording artists from Immediate (Rolling Stones' manager Andrew
ïLoog' Oldham's label), PYE (Joe Meek, The Kinks), and Piccadilly
(probably some of the cheesiest British music ever recorded).-
Compared to the other two or three Beach Boys covers albums,
filled with cuts by modern recording artists, (like Marina's Caroline Now or the superior Japanese Smiling Pets), Guess I'm Dumb
is full of covers that were actually licensed in the U.K. and
recorded with the hopes of being radio hits at the same time in which
the Beach Boys were in their prime (most of these recordings are from
ï64-ï66).
It has been said, at least on American
soil, that there would be more Beach Boys covers, but it was just
too hard for people to pull off the signature vocals.- In fact, the title song of this CD, ïGuess I'm
Dumb,'- (written by Brian Wilson
as a thank-you to touring Beach Boy Glen Campbell in 1965) had such
an ambitious melody that Campbell, one of the best singers in the
business, was nearly unable to complete the cut.- In at least one other notable case, The Beach
Boys strategically prevented other artists from scoring hits with
their tunes.-- This was when
Gary Usher, set to release his version of the campy ïHelp Me Rhonda'
in '65, was beat to the punch by The Beach Boys who rushed to re-record
their own song to ensure that they would have the latest and greatest
possible version ever.- The key word is ïrush' here, because that's
how things were done back then.- Imagine
that in 1963 alone, The Beach Boys released an astounding 4 long playing
albums (and I assure you, they are not all good)!
Contemporary renderings of Beach Boys tunes
are less valuable documents than those presented here for several
reasons.- First because they
have been informed two or three extra decades of painstaking musical
discovery and history.- Pop
musicians these days are simply more educated on the technical aspects
of music then they were back then (when all you needed was three chords
and the truth) and many today approach The Beach Boys like a history
class.- Therefore, understanding
the complexity of the chords and harmonies is much easier now than
in the past.- You can even learn
about them On-line.- You can
also find out exactly what instruments and microphones were used,
what techniques were used to create certain sounds, etc.-
It's all been documented.- Another
factor which makes modern renditions less valuable then old renditions
is that it is more commonplace now for musicians to engage in year-long,
mistake-free recording projects, compared to back in the day, things
were recorded more hastily (and that exact hastiness led directly
to the unique quality of many songs).- Lastly, renderings of Beach Boys songs done
by today's artists are done for pure tribute value, at the hobby level
if you will, and experimentation is encouraged.-
There is no expectation that anybody is going to actually score
a hit with any of the material.
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| British
music was extremely bad before The Beatles hit in 1963, especially
compared to American music, which was great.-
Even after The Beatles hit, there was a lot of shite on the
UK charts.- Remember
lame white dudes like Pat Boone doing Little Richard songs.-
Now make that lame white dude English.-
It's even worse when it's a lame white chick taking a crack
at anything with any soul.- Generally speaking, these British versions of
Beach Boys songs are extremely cheesy.-
Think of Carnaby Street, disgustingly furry sideburns, babydoll dresses, and purple velvet and
you're there. Keep in mind that The Beach Boys were in ways more popular
in England than they were in America, especially during the era of
Pet Sounds, in 1966, when
The Beach Boys edged The Beatles out of the ïfavorite vocal group'
category in a Melody Maker poll (for some reason, such things mattered
back then).
This collection scores the highest points
so far above all the other Beach Boys covers albums because it represents
what the world of music felt about The Beach Boys when they were still
thought of as a sensation and a hit machine; before Brian Wilson lost
his marbles, before Mike Love embarrassed the world, before the independent
rock scene went Smile-crazy.- This is the Beach Boys worth paying attention
to: the hits from ï64-'66.- Plus
these versions are still recorded in the age of the oldie with all
of the charm and innocence associated with the pop music of that era.
I hate to say that the cheesiness of the material
itself becomes very obvious after listening to the first few tunes
on this collection.- I admit,
The Beach Boys are my favorite group, but I had to fall in love with
them, or have faith in them if you will, before I could past some
of the cheesiness of their themes, both lyrically and perhaps more
importantly, musically.- As
if the cars and the hot-dogs aren't bad enough, The Beach Boys music
is filled with indulgent strains of doo-wop ridiculousness, glass-breaking
barbershop bits, and overtly ambitious if not awkward or odd musical
perforations.- In the hands
of somebody who doesn't know exactly what is going on, this can lead
to some pretty paltry results.- If
anything, it can show how other professional (albeit pop) musicians
simply could not figure out how to copy The Beach Boys music, let
alone the coveted wall-of-sound production technique (which Brain
Wilson learned from listening to and watching Phil Spector at Gold-Star
Studios).- And Rock & Roll is supposed to be easy,
baby!- Therefore, the title
of this CD, Guess I'm Dumb, is rather appropriate for
the singers, musicians, and engineers that tried their hands at the
Beach Boys catalogue.
From the early Beach Boys catalogue, Piccadilly
artists The Factotums deliver a passable ïIn My Room' with a clipped
fade that shows a reluctance to even attempt an imitation of Brian
Wilson's gorgeously- smooth
falsetto.- Likewise, a rendition
of ïYou're so Good to Me' makes the grade instrument for instrument,
vocal for vocal, but simply falls flat.- Failed ventures like this make one realize just
how much of the magic of the Beach Boys music is due to the signature
production technique„something not one of these Brits gets right.- The Ivy League's ïDon't Worry Baby' offers a
touchingly inept and slightly more soul-geared take at one of The
Beach Boys most endearing hits.- As
a devout fan, I'd swear that this version milks a little magic out
of the original that even Brian and gang missed.
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Petula
Clark's French version of- ïNo Go Showboat' (ïJ'ai Pas les Temps') turns
a humorously strange American rock & roll clunker into a humorously
strange French pop lemon.- Perfect.-
Likewise, Immediate artists Tony Rivers and the Castaways drop
a dud version of the already lame ïSalt Lake City,' and in turn attempt to foolishly soup-up the glorious
ïGirl Don't Tell Me' with corny harmonies and embellishments.- A lampooned imitation of Beach Boy Mike Love's
signature bass voice and a fade-out lifted straight from The Four
Seasons' ïWalk Like a Man' show what the world really thought of the
Beach Boys' sound and style at the time.-
However, the Castaways redeem themselves with a scorching version
of ïThe Girl from New
York City.'- Picking-up on a Stones influence that the Beach
Boys own version tucks away discretely, the Castaways offer more raucous
vocals and a big emphasis on the reverb-laden guitar hook that makes
this song so great. (The Stones' Brian Jones in turn was a big fan
of the Beach Boys, at one time even attempting to cut ïI Get Around.'-
Their 1968 classic ïStreet Fightin' Man' lifts a giant bass
hook directly from ïThe Girl from New York City')
Transitioning
to mid-period Beach Boys, Dani Sheradan's spineless effort on the
stunning ïGuess I'm Dumb' only makes original singer Glenn Campbell's
fine reading of this complicated vocal more authoritative.-
The backing track however is fantastically accurate in full
Bacharachian detail, missing only the heart-stopping complexity of
Brian Wilson's brass arrangement. Two so-so versions of the surreally
complex pre-Pet Sounds single ïThe Little Girl I Once
Knew' are a great testament to the songs' mysteriously wide appeal.- Both versions struggle to pay dutiful attention
to the composition with the far superior being by Ireland's Freshman (on Pye), who highlight their take with
a bubblegum vocal approach and succinctly punchy rhythm track reminiscent
of the Move.- Incidentally, the Freshman use a chipper drum
fill to rectify what 1965 US radio considered to be the original ïLittle
Girl's' main flaw, repeated sections of eight beats of silence.- Personally I think that the aforementioned drum
break played the scapegoat for the failure of this song because DJays
and fans were hesitant to acknowledge that the disturbingly complex
vocals were bugging them out.
From Pet Sounds, the Factotums embarrass themselves with ïHere Today.'- With repeated listens, it sounds more like something
that could have been recorded on a bedroom 4-track during the early
90s lo-fi movement (by Apples in Stereo, Eliot Smith, etc.), and for
this alone some might want to hear it.- ïI'm Waiting for the Day' gets a rudimentary
treatment from Peanut, who from what I gather was kind of a British
equivalent of Little Eva (ïThe Locomotion').- It seems thankfully that at least some people
had good sense to not deem Pet
Sounds the end of the Beach Boys commercial potential, because
they were certainly doing their best to get these versions onto the
charts.- In the case of Peanut's example though, it seems
that a paint-by-numbers interpretation of a song as amazingly complex
as ïWaiting for the Day' was simply not good enough.-
Envision Schroeder playing ïJingle Bells' for Lucy in the Charlie
Brown Christmas special, and you'll get the picture. |
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| Two
fabulous snapshots of ïGod Only Knows,' one an instrumental version,
the other by soul diva PP Arnold, are disc highlights.-
The instrumental version (by Sounds Orchestra) delivers the
strings and the spiraling feel of the original faithfully, with an
organ delivering the lead vocal melody.- The last verse is delivered with a camped-up
jazz piano that I think Brian Wilson would have enjoyed considering
(as fans of the Pet Sounds Sessions
box-set can attest to) that he was toying with the idea of a dramatic
saxophone solo in the place of the vocal dalliance that he ended up
using towards the end of his original.-
PP Arnold's ïGod Only Knows' is deliciously brilliant„delivered
with a more deliberately rocking beat than the playful skip and snap
of the original.- In handling
the vocal break at the end of the song with her lone set of pipes,
she matches the Beach Boys passionate breath for passionate breath.-- Arnold's version confirms what a powerful vehicle the Beach
Boys music can be for a female singer.
On
this note, The Paper Dolls' (Piccadilly) sugar-dipped delivery of
ïDarlin' could only be second to Carl Wilson's own fantastic original
vocal.- ïDarlin' was originally cut in 1964 as the Brian
Wilson production ïThinking ïbout you Baby' by California girl group Sharon and Marie before being retooled
by the Boys for inclusion on their wonderful '68 LP Wild Honey. -For this reason,
the girl group impression just makes sense.--
The Paper Dolls swank-up the more deliberate horns of the original,
provide life-less back-ups, and add the line ïmy groovy guy' to create
a truly hokey period piece; a trapping cleverly avoided in the more
timeless Beach Boys original.
Castle/Sanctuary
cheats by lengthening this CD with a bunch of irrelevant recordings
that they must've had the licensing rights to.---
These are versions of songs that the Beach Boys covered„not
the original versions of those songs mind you (which would have been
forgivable) but concordant versions of those songs by British artists.-
Most are horribly irrelevant, the exception being ïI Wanna
Go Home' by Lonnie Donnegan, which is essentially the Kingston Trio
version of ïSloop John B' that Al Jardine suggested the Beach Boys
cover on Pet Sounds.-
Otherwise, annoyances such as ïPapa Oom Mow Mow,' and ïThe
Man with all the Toys' from The
Beach Boys Christmas Album pump up the cheese factor to near Limburger
levels.
© 2003 Jonathan Donaldson
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