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BIGGEST DISC SELLERS IN U.S. FOR 1965

In generational/fashion, history, music on April 22, 2014 at 11:54 pm

Nineteen sixty-five was the year the Beatles relinquished a big gooey dollop of their kiddywink appeal for American tweenies to another English group, Herman’s Hermits, from Manchester. While the Beatles surrendered quite a chunk of their disc sales too compared with 1964, they moved on to more mature music and broadened their fanbase, “peaking” with Yesterday, of Elizabethan pedigree. Couldn’t get much older-style or high-falutin’ than that. The Hermits, led by 17-year-old Peter Noone of panto and Coronation Street experience, stole the Beatles’ music hall base which they wouldn’t fully reclaim until the Sgt Pepper’s album two years later.

The Rolling Stones hit the US in a big way and around the world in 1965. From left, Bill Wyman, Mick Jagger,  a stoned Brian Jones, Charlie Watts, a young, relatively humanoid Keith Richard

The Rolling Stones hit the US in a big way and around the world in 1965. From left, Bill Wyman, Mick Jagger, a stoned Brian Jones, Charlie Watts, a young, relatively humanoid Keith Richard

The Hermits’ American label, MGM, would claim no fewer than seven million-selling singles for them during 1965, most of them including their two fastest sellers, Mrs Brown (You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter) and I’m Henry VIII I Am, firmly from the English Music Hall tradition. Deputising for them delivering music hall from Manchester were Freddie & the Dreamers, and in more serious mode, from Liverpool, Gerry & the Pacemakers. Where was rock music going? Fast taking over with two striking number ones, selling multi millions around the world, were the Rolling Stones. And there were still the Dave Clark Five, adding to their string of big hits.

Subdued beneath these English groups in singles sales were the most popular American groups, the Beach Boys and the Four Seasons hardly rating outright million-sellers anymore and now joined by the Byrds, Sonny & Cher and the Lovin’ Spoonful. In fact, at the height of the British Invasion the Beatles were slow off the mark to raise an RIAA Gold Disc. But the British showed their overall influence by converting to their style not only the Byrds (supposedly inspired by Bob Dylan) but popsters Gary Lewis & the Playboys and big-voiced soloist P. J. Proby.

P. J. Proby: from Texas, endorsed in the UK by the Beatles and had talent overflowing enough to go worldwide and then some.

P. J. Proby: from Texas, endorsed in the UK by the Beatles and had talent overflowing enough to go worldwide and then some.

Businesswise, it was a strangely divided year: high selling in the New Year and early spring when Petula Clark and Roger Miller had easily their biggest-ever hits, the Temptations and Marvin Gaye their biggest of mid decade and lesser Brit acts; but turning to distinctly mediocre by June, after which hot young acts like the Byrds couldn’t sell a million with a strong tail wind of publicity and Bob Dylan and the Beatles beneath their wings. The Byrds’ Mr Tambourine Man and Turn, Turn, Turn both hit no.1 in the US for multiple weeks but failed to sell a million in a low-selling period of 1965 during generally rising sales — the first one their top seller ever at a documented 900,000 nationally.

1. A Taste Of Honey (Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass)…. reported as 4.5 million US in 16 months, supporting mega-million sales of their albums

2. Wooly Bully (Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs)….. well over 2 million

3. I Can’t Help Myself (Four Tops)…. 2,500,000

4. King Of the Road (Roger Miller)…… 2 million or more

5. Mrs Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter (Herman’s Hermits)…. sold a million US in first week

6. Downtown (Petula Clark)…. instant million-seller and eventually 3 million in US

7. My Girl (Temptations)….. eventually passing 2 million in US

8. Yesterday (Beatles)….. 1,800,000 in US

9. I’m Henry VIII I Am (Herman’s Hermits)….. over 600,000 orders in 2 days

10. I Got You Babe (Sonny & Cher)….. certified gold within two months and continuing strong to reach 3 million in next two years

We Can Work It Out (Beatles)…… 1,600,000 in US

Help! (Beatles)…. sold a million in US in one week

Satisfaction (Rolling Stones)…. a quick US million of its 4.5 million worldwide

Let’s Hang On (Four Seasons)….. est. 1,500,000 or more

I Got You (I Feel Good) (James Brown)…. a certified million in under 2 months

You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ (Righteous Bros)…. nearing a million in under two months

Eve Of Destruction (Barry McGuire)….. a million and a half US

Get Off Of My Cloud (Rolling Stones)….. 500,000 US in 5 days

1 – 2 – 3 (Len Barry)….. 1,500,000

Stop In the Name of Love (Supremes)….. sold a prompt million US early spring

Help Me Rhonda (Beach Boys)….. over a million in its chart run

Ticket to Ride (Beatles)….. 750,000 orders but slow to retail the million

Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat? (Herman’s Hermits)…. certified a million US in ten weeks

This Diamond Ring (Gary lewis & the Playboys)…. a million US in less than 3 months

The Birds and the Bees (Jewel Aken)….. a fast million in early spring

I Hear a Symphony (Supremes)….. over half in US of world total of more than 2 million

Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag (James Brown)….. ditto US & world

Treat Her Right (Roy Head)…… 1,300,000

A Lover’s Concerto (Toys)….. certified gold in less than 3 months

Like a Rolling Stone (Bob Dylan)….. certified gold in 3 months

Hang On Sloopy (McCoys)…. certified gold in 5 months

Crying In the Chapel (Elvis Presley)….. certified gold US in summer

‘In’ Crowd (Ramsey Lewis Trio)….. gold

I Like It Like That (Dave Clark Five)….. reported million in US

Eight Days a Week (Beatles)….. took 6 months to be certified gold

Back In My Arms Again (Supremes)….. eventual million US

Over and Over (Dave Clark Five)……. million-seller US

Game Of Love (Wayne Fontana & the Mindbenders)….. probable spring million-seller

Count Me In (Gary Lewis & the Playboys)…. est. million US

The Name Game (Shirley Ellis)…. fast New Year seller

Flowers On the Wall (Statler Bros)…. sold a million into 1966

Keep On Dancing (Gentrys)…. a million US subsequently

Where the Action Is (Freddie Cannon)…. pop music tv theme, went gold in tv season

I’m Into Something Good (Herman’s Hermits)…. half million or so at first, passed a million during their US tour in May six months later

Hold What You’ve Got (Joe Tex)….. took almost a year to sell the million US

I’m Telling You Now (Freddie & the Dreamers)…. no.1 US but no reported gold disc

You Were On My Mind (We Five)….. passed 600,000 two weeks into top 20 US

What’s New Pussycat? (Tom Jones)…. almost a million in US chart run

California Girls (Beach Boys)…… debated million-seller US

Catch Us if You Can (Dave Clark Five)….. label claimed a million-seller

Tired Of Waiting for You (Kinks)….. ditto

All Day and All of the Night (Kinks)….. ditto, New Year seller

Unchained Melody (Righteous Bros)….. ditto, summer seller

Ebb Tide (Righteous Bros)…. ditto, Xmas seller

Red Roses for a Blue Lady (Bert Kaempfert)….. a subsequent million

Keep Searchin’ (Del Shannon)….. eventual million sale reported

Baby I’m Yours (Barbara Lewis)….. ditto

Save Your Heart for Me (Gary lewis & the Playboys)….. close to a million

The Boy From New York City (Ad Libs)….. gold unclaimed

Silhouettes (Herman’s Hermits)….. advance of 400,000 and eventual million

Mr Tambourine Man (Byrds)….. reported 900,000 in US

Turn Turn Turn (Byrds)….. less than 900,000 in US despite 3 weeks at no.1

Ferry Cross the Mersey (Gerry & the Pacemakers)….. est. 850,000

England Swings (Roger Miller)….. reported approaching a million

The Clapping Song (Shirley Ellis)….. ditto

Everybody Loves a Clown (Gary lewis & the Playboys)…. est. over 800,000

Nowhere to Run (Martha & the Vandellas)….. est. ditto

Goldfinger (Shirley Bassey)…. est. ditto

Bye Bye Baby (Four Seasons)….. three quarters of a million or more

Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte (Patti Page)…… est ditto

How Sweet It Is (Marvin Gaye)….. over 800,000 as reported by Marvin

I’m A Fool (Dino, Desi & Billy)…… reported as 800,000 US

It’s the Same Old Song (Four Tops)….. over 750,000

Positively 4th Street (Bob Dylan)….. reported as 750,000-plus

Wonderful World (Herman’s Hermits)….. probably no more than three quarters of its world million in the US

Engine Engine No.9 (Roger Miller)….. est. 750,000 or so

I Go to Pieces (Peter & Gordon)….. est. ditto

It’s Not Unusual (Tom Jones)….. est. ditto

Baby Don’t Go (Sonny & Cher)….. est. around three quarters of a million US

It Ain’t Me Babe (Turtles)….. est. ditto

Just a Little Bit Better (Herman’s Hermits)….. probably less than 750,000 in US

I’ll Be Doggone (Marvin Gaye)….. est. ditto

Ain’t That Peculiar (Marvin Gaye)….. est. ditto

Just Once in My Life (Righteous Bros)…. est. ditto

I Will (Dean Martin)…. est. ditto

Don’t Think Twice (Four Seasons)…… sold a fast half-million and continued

Laugh At Me (Sonny)…. over 700,000 US

The Last Time (Rolling Stones)….. sold less in US (est. 700,000) than in UK

Do You Wanna Dance? (Beach Boys)….. est. 700,000

People Get Ready (Impressions)…. ditto

True Love Ways (Peter & Gordon)….. est. ditto

Last Chance to Turn Around (Gene Pitney)….. est. ditto

Reelin’ and Rockin’ (Dave Clark Five)….. ditto

Do the Freddie (Freddie & the Dreamers)….. est. 650,000 US

We’ve Gotta Get Out of This Place (Animals)….. est. 650,000

I’m Yours (Elvis Presley)….. 650,000 initially, gold long term

Puppet On a String (Elvis Presley)…. initially over half a million, long term gold disc US

Nothing But Heartaches (Supremes)….. est. around 600,000

Come Home (Dave Clark Five)…. ditto

Houston (Dean Martin)….. ditto

Little Girl I Once Knew (Beach Boys)….. est. 600,000 or so

But You’re Mine (Sonny & Cher)…. est. ditto

Tracks of My Tears (Smokey Robinson & the Miracles)…. est. ditto

Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood (Animals)….. est. ditto

Mohair Sam (Charlie Rich)….. est. ditto

In the Midnight Hour (Wilson Pickett)…. est. ditto

Send Me the Pillow You Dream On (Dean Martin)….. est. ditto

Heart Of Stone (Rolling Stones)….. est. 600,000

You Were Made For Me (Freddie & the Dreamers)….. reported 600,000 in US

Girl On the Billboard (Del Reeves)….. est. ditto, c&w no.1 for many weeks

With These Hands (Tom Jones)….. probably 600,000

Willow Weep For Me (Chad & Jeremy)….. est. ditto

Before and After (Chad & Jeremy)….. est. ditto

It’s My Life (Animals)….. est. ditto

Set Me Free (Kinks)….. est. ditto

Lookin’ Through the Eyes of Love (Gene Pitney)…… est. ditto

Tell Me Why (Elvis Presley)….. just over 500,000 initially, gold long term

(Such An) Easy Question….. Estimated half a million sales or more

I’ll Be There (Gerry & the Pacemakers)….. est. half-million or so

I’ve Got a Tiger By the Tail (Buck Owens)…. top c&w disc selling over a half-million

I Must Be Seeing Things (Gene Pitney)….. est. ditto

Girl Come Running (Four Seasons)…. est. ditto

Just You (Sonny & Cher)….. est. half a million

I Understand (Freddie & the Dreamers)….. reported half a million US

Blue Christmas (Elvis Presley)….. probably around a half-million this Xmas, awarded gold long term

Do the Clam (Elvis Presley)…. reported just under half-million

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THE DUMBING DOWN OF US

In music, psychology/psychiatry on April 15, 2014 at 9:15 pm

This is one of those unpalatable, indigestible ideas that has stuck in my craw many times before, often when I’ve just surrendered to bedtime sometime after midnight. Too often, I just roll over and drift off to sleep too lazy to rouse myself. Finally, it grabbed me on the right side of my waking cycle — 5.30am this morning — by the throat, and wouldn’t let go. I dedicate this to one of those famous deejays of the Rock Era, who was proudest of his evident efforts to giving pop music a bad name. He gave himself a stupid name to fit: “Cousin Brucie”, turning himself into a New York celebrity in a New York minute. His credo went something like, Take a simple song, stuff in as many fatuous cliches as you can fit, and it takes on a kind of “magic.” Maybe he owed his career to an influential uncle, but he had millions of cousins among the disc-buying public making his eyes sparkle with dollar signs.

Homeless and 'displaced' refugees: more uncounted statistics

Homeless and ‘displaced’ refugees: more uncounted statistics

The next time any of us is tempted to persist ten minutes into a mindless, meathead action movie and waste another hour and a half we could be spending more profitably on, say, navel-gazing, just remember people are out there on the frontiers of human civilisation every day literally losing their lives so that we don’t have to aspire to the lowest common denominator of human thought. “Ordinary” citizens, investigative journalists, front-line activists, peacekeeping soldiers put their lives on the line every day so that we don’t have to — usually in some other “God-forsaken” part of the world — including that 14-year-old girl whom the Taliban attempted to silence by shooting her face off. Or whenever we are tempted to settle for second, third or 7,556,132,404th best (that’s the worst on the planet) in a choice of politicians, favorite celebrities, sports heroes or role models of any kind.

On the same exalted level, not that he could be accused of ever dumbing down, even Einstein was proudest of some of his lesser known discoveries — Was he the one behind Wella incorporating 68% more “bounce-back body”? Mid 20th Century pop culture being my bag, I’m here to apply the principle to pop songs. Not counting those iconic biggies never intended to be more than amusing nonentities (The Chipmunk Song, Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini…) the following list of massive, trite, totally expendable hits all sold more than four million copies in the USA alone:

It’s Now or Never (Elvis Presley) 1960

I Want to Hold Your Hand (The Beatles) 1963

Ballad of the Green Berets (Sgt Barry Sadler) 1966

Honey (Bobby Goldsboro) 1968

Dizzy (Tommy Roe) 1969

Sugar, Sugar (The Archies) 1969

In fact, these were the only songs to surpass the US four million mark during the Sixties — which should tell us something. It was a decade that supplied exquisite music aplenty, of which I submit a small sample below: all overlooked classics among the very best performances of the acts listed. Billboard ‘peaks’ are stated in those cases where the song rose high enough in our collective imagination to enter sales charts at all.

Reeling and Rocking (Fats Domino) nil, 1952

Tutti Frutti (Little Richard) #21, 1955

Too Much Monkey Business (Chuck Berry) nil, 1956

Young Blood (The Coasters) #18, 1957

The Girl Can’t Help It (Little Richard) #49, 1957

Teach Me How to Shimmy (Isley Bros) nil, 1961

Three Cool Cats (The Coasters) nil, 1962

When the Lovelight Shines (The Supremes) #23, 1963

The Warmth of the Sun (The Beach Boys) nil, 1964

Big Man in Town (The Four Seasons) #20, 1964

Goodbye My Love (The Searchers) #52, 1965

Early Morning Rain (Peter, Paul & Mary) nil, 1965

In My Life (The Beatles) nil, 1965

With These Hands (Tom Jones) #27, 1965

My Generation (The Who) #74, 1966

I’m a Boy (The Who) nil, 1966

Try a Little Tenderness (Otis Redding) #21, 1966

Bowling Green (The Everly Bros) #40, 1967

Mas Que Nada (Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’66) nil, 1967

Why Do Fools Fall in Love? (The Happenings) #41, 1967

Guide For the Married Man (The Turtles) nil, 1967

Pata, Pata (Miriam Makeba) #12, 1967

To Love Somebody (The Bee Gees) #17, 1967

Twelve Thirty (The Mamas & the Papas) #20, 1967

Will You Love Me Tomorrow (The Four Seasons) #24, 1968

Workin’ On a Groovy Thing (The Fifth Dimension) #20, 1969

Fortunate Son (Creedence Clearwater Revival) nil, 1969

Oh Me, Oh My (Lulu) #22, 1970

Me About You (The Turtles) nil, 1970

Out in the Country (Three Dog Night) #15, 1970

BIGGEST SELLING DISCS OF 1963

In history, music on April 13, 2014 at 1:44 am

Ok, calm down everyone, following the deafening clamor that greeted my last post, “Biggest Disc Sellers of 1964” — and ignoring the fact that most searches that got through were actually after a site called “Biggest Dicks Fellers” — I’ve answered the call to go a year even further back. (In relaying coherently the massive amount of research I’ve done into this burning question it is necessary to publish it bit by bit, so please visit my site

  • http://www.garbonza.wordpress.com
  • to get the full story over the next day or two.)

    Here we enter the official pre-Beatle Era because most Americans didn’t know that group existed before 1964 though they’d sold an audited total of more than five million singles and e.p.s in their home country through 1963, and this from a pool of potential disc-buyers one third that of the United States at the time. They’d also had three of their singles released and promoted across the United States during the year — played on many big-city top 40 programs — but people weren’t paying proper attention at the time, thus necessitating a red-carpeted second bite at the cherry (with mostly the same discs) as ordered by his lordship the chairman of EMI in London.

    A quarter century before Nielsen-SoundScan counted sales accurately, statisticians relied on figures released by disc labels or the artists themselves. This resulted in highly exaggerated, seriously underestimated or sometimes very accurate totals of particular song’s sales, depending on the motives of the label. After the Beatles finally ‘arrived’ in the US, Capitol saw the advantage of publicizing its chosen superstar’s massive disc sales with RIAA Gold Disc auditing under parent company EMI’s policy and at the same time continuing its own domestic policy of near secrecy for its other most popular clients — the Beach Boys, Bobby Darin, the Kingston Trio, Nat King Cole, Kyu Sakamoto, and now Peter & Gordon — so as not to distract attention from the predetermined main event. If it had a mind to, this also allowed Capitol to short-change these under-promoted acts on royalties with impunity — not that I’m saying they did, but the Beach Boys for one sued their label repeatedly over the years for “missing paperwork” on sales tallies. It is acknowledged that Peter, Paul & Mary edged the Beach Boys in album sales for 1963, making up 45% of all folk music sold in the US.

    1963 was the year of the Beach Boys (and soundalikes Jan & Dean) but maybe most of all maybe Peter, Paul & Mary: From right, the lovely Mary Travers, and the professorial Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey.

    1963 was the year of the Beach Boys (and soundalikes Jan & Dean) but maybe most of all maybe Peter, Paul & Mary: From right, the lovely Mary Travers, and the professorial Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey.

    Though assessed by Billboard to be the biggest-selling act of 1963, sales of individual Beach Boys discs had proven problematic because traditionally in the US the sales of a song (one side of a vinyl disc) were always counted separately. So while the double-sided hits Surfin’ USA/Shut Down, Surfer Girl/Little Deuce Coupe and Be True to Your School/In My Room all might have sold a double-million, the question was how many sales to attribute to each song? The Everly Brothers and Roy Orbison too had the same problem of being too generous filling B-sides with top quality when customarily it had been treated as a throwaway to focus attention on the “A” and not split airplay and therefore sales. Elvis Presley had scored many double-gold sellers in his heyday (pre-1963) and at least in the case of Hound Dog/Don’t Be Cruel more sales were assigned to the designated B-side than the “A”. Similarly, Billboard named Little Deuce Coupe as the second biggest Beach Boys seller of the year, surprisingly ahead of its “A”, which did exceedingly well topping regional charts right across the USA (apart from New York City). Regarding the Beatles, though Capitol tended to fill their early B-sides with decidedly secondary attractions — judging from results, many of these songs missing or just making the weekly top 100 — the Liverpool group would feature a number of noted double-siders in the mid 1960s: I Feel Fine/She’s a Woman, We Can Work It Out/Day Tripper, Yellow Submarine/Eleanor Rigby.

    The most reliable list of bestsellers in the nation for 1963 involved a nationwide conference at the end of the year sponsored by the National Disk Jockey Association that included retail disc sellers and distributors, radio station personnel and research staff from trade magazines (Billboard, Cash Box, Music Vendor) who undertook a week-by-week, month-by-month breakdown of regional and national sales from January 6th to December 16th.

    (Note: It was remarked on by commentators at the time, especially through summer following a healthy-selling spring, on how low individual songs were selling, even those expected to reach a million that fell short at “three quarters of a million” or so. The lion’s share of the blame for this was put on the new Japanese pocket transistors, which afforded a free listen to your favorite tunes hanging out at the beach without shelling out singles’ exorbitant list price of 77 cents and up. Undoubtedly a second cause was the sheer amount of competition from all quarters providing what have since become recognised as classic tunes.)

    Here follows the top ten determined by that industry working group, published by Billboard in March 1964, with accompanying figures I have been able to dig up, then carrying on down the list. Hope you find some favorites somewhere in here.

    1. Surfin’ USA (Beach Boys)….. Though peaking at no.3 in the weekly charts of Billboard and Cash Box, sold probably around two million in its ten months from release to the end of the year, and continuing

    2. End Of the World (Skeeter Davis)….. peaking no.2 in weekly charts, accumulating through the entire year from its release in January

    3. Rhythm Of the Rain (Cascades)….. selling from its late-1962 release, mounting 700,000 by its third week in the top 20 to peak at no.3

    4. He’s So Fine (Chiffons)….. the most durable no.1 of the year, on its own topping Billboard for 4 weeks

    5. Blue Velvet (Bobby Vinton)….. a million during chart run

    6. Hey Paula (Paul & Paula)…. audited early for a Gold Disc at 1,030,000 and in 9 months sold over 2 million worldwide; US est. around 1,400,000

    7. Fingertips (Part II) (Little Stevie Wonder)…. three weeks at no.1 through late summer

    8. Can’t Get Used to Losing You (Andy Williams)…. quoted at 850,000 by Williams, who must have been shortchanged

    9. My Boyfriend’s Back (Angels)…. three weeks at no.1 beginning autumn

    10. Sukiyaki (Kyu Sakamoto)…. three weeks at no.1 early summer, quoted at 930,000 most of the way through low-selling summer, nearing the end of its chart run

    * If I Had a Hammer (Trini Lopez)….. peaked no.3 in autumn, going on to well over a million US and 4.5 million globally

    * Puff (the Magic Dragon) (Peter, Paul & Mary)….. well over a million US from spring and multi-millions worldwide

    * Walk Like a Man (Four Seasons)…. 700,000 in 4 weeks after release, before hitting top 20, going on to three weeks at no.1 by early spring

    * Surf City (Jan & Dean)…. two weeks at no.1, quoted at 1,250,000

    * If You Wanna Be Happy (Jimmy Soul)….. ditto, a million-plus

    * Sugar Shack (Jimmy Gilmer & the Fireballs)….. a no.1 in Billboard towards the end of the year and building the biggest chart “points” tally for the year — boosted by airplay — but quoted at just a 1,200,000 total a year later

    * Walk Right In (Rooftop Singers)….. well over a million accumulated by this January topper

    * Green, Green (New Christie Minstrels)….. over a million steadily, then more than 3 million in a few years

    * From A Jack to a King (Ned Miller)…. well over a million; 2 million worldwide within 6 months (including over 750,000 UK)

    * I’m Leaving It Up to You (Dale & Grace)…. a million reported for this autumn no.1

    * It’s My Party (Lesley Gore)….. over a million

    * Blowin’ In the Wind (Peter, Paul & Mary)….. over a million

    * Easier Said Than Done (The Essex)….. massive but in a low-selling summer

    * Losing You (Brenda Lee)…. “climbing towards a million” three weeks into top 20

    * The Night Has a Thousand Eyes (Bobby Vee)…. 700,000 after 4 weeks in top 20, peaking no.3

    * Cry Baby (Garnet Mimms & the Enchanters)…. over a million

    * Be My Baby (Ronettes)…. “about one million” claimed by Phil Spector for this disputed no.1/2

    * I Will Follow Him (Little Peggy March)…. quoted at 965,000 a year later though three weeks at no.1 in spring

    * Busted (Ray Charles)…… million-seller

    * Da Doo Ron Ron (Crystals)….. one of Phil Spector’s claimed million-sellers

    * South Street (Orlons)….. over a million

    * Our Day Will Come (Ruby & the Romantics)…. no.1 but no record of a million sale claimed

    * Ruby Baby (Dion)…. probable million-seller, not confirmed

    * In Dreams (Roy Orbison)….. million-seller

    * Take These Chains From My Heart (Ray Charles)…… million-seller

    * Two Faces Have I (Lou Christie)…. a million-seller

    * Blue On Blue (Bobby Vinton)…. “almost a million” in 4 months

    * Washington Square (Village Stompers)…. reported just over the million June ’64

    * Deep Purple (April Stevens & Nino Tempo)….. no.1 for a week in late autumn, reported passing the million in 1965

    * Heat Wave (Martha & the Vandellas)….. reported over a million (of a 4.5 million singles sales total for the Motown label in 1963)

    * It’s All Right (Impressions)…. awarded gold after a year

    * So Much in Love (Tymes)….. no.1 for one week in a slow summer

    * (You’re the) Devil in Disguise (Elvis Presley)…. sold around 700,000 initially and slowly built past a million

    * Candy Girl (Four Seasons)…. sold 200,000 fast and continued to a million, peaked no.3

    * Little Deuce Coupe (Beach Boys)… assessed by Capitol as a high seller though missing top 10

    * Surfer Girl (Beach Boys)…. assessed at less than above though peaking no.5 for three weeks

    * Mean Woman Blues (Roy Orbison)…… million-seller

    * Then He Kissed Me (Crystals)….. million-seller for producer Phil Spector, peaking no.6

    * One Fine Day (Chiffons)……. million-seller, peaking no.5

    * Detroit City (Bobby Bare)…. over a million, his biggest seller

    * Be True to Your School (Beach Boys)…. reputedly a million-seller, peaked no.6

    * Mockingbird (Inez & Charlie Foxx)… peaking no.7, initially 800,000 then passing the million

    * Donna the Prima Donna (Dion)….

    * Ring Of Fire (Johnny Cash)….. a million

    * 24 Hours From Tulsa (Gene Pitney)….. confirmed million-seller

    * Call On Me (Bobby Bland)…. r&b chart winner, over a million in chart run peaking barely top 30 in the pop chart

    * 500 Miles From Home (Bobby Bare)…. another million-seller quoted for him

    * Wonderful, Wonderful (Tymes)….

    * Don’t Think Twice (It’s All Right) (Peter, Paul & Mary)….. million unconfirmed

    * He’s Sure the Boy I Love (Crystals)….. probably approaching a million

    * Mecca (Gene Pitney)…. not quite a million

    * Honolulu Lulu (Jan & Dean)…… ditto

    * Walkin’ Miracle (The Essex)…..

    * Drip Drop (Dion)……. sales going into 1964

    * Half Heaven, Half Heartache (Gene Pitney)…. unconfirmed million

    * Not Me (Orlons)…..

    * The Gypsy Cried (Lou Christie)…. a million eventually

    * If My Pillow Could Talk (Connie Francis)…. 282,000 in first week of release but slowed down short of top 20

    * Abilene (George Hamilton IV)….. short of a million

    * Quicksand (Martha & the Vandellas)…… selling into 1964

    * I Love You Because (Al Martino)… 750,000 within 6 months

    * These Arms of Mine (Otis Redding)…. reported 750,000 though barely made top 100

    * You’ve Really Got a Hold On Me (Smokey Robinson & the Miracles)….. around three quarters of a million

    * True Love Never Runs Smooth (Gene Pitney)…. something around three quarters of a million

    * Days Of Wine and Roses (Andy Williams)…. 750,000 quoted by Williams for this B-side

    * Bossa Nova Baby (Elvis Presley)…. “sales somewhat less than 700,000”

    * One Broken Heart For Sale (Elvis Presley)…. something approaching 700,000

    * Six Days On the Road (Dave Dudley)…. over 600,000 and still selling steadily after

    * Killer Joe (Rocky Fellers)….. reported at 600,000 by Filipino group

    * Follow the Boys (Connie Francis)…..

    * Blue Bayou (Roy Orbison)….. high-selling B-side

    * Little St Nick (Beach Boys)….. biggest-selling Xmas disc of 1963, accumulating a million over successive Xmases

    * Shut Down (Beach Boys)….

    * Let’s Limbo Some More (Chubby Checker)…..

    * This Little Girl (Dion)……

    * Loddy Lo (Chubby Checker)…..

    * Birdland (Chubby Checker)……..

    * Marlena (Four Seasons)…… B-side performing well

    * Ain’t That a Shame (Four Seasons)……

    * Don’t Set Me Free (Ray Charles)…….

    * 20 Miles (Chubby Checker)…….

    * Falling (Roy Orbison)….. needed international sales to take it over the million

    * In My Room (Beach Boys)…. ditto

    * Pretty Paper (Roy Orbison)….. Xmas song selling into 1964

    SPECIAL MENTION: those that sold well over a million but had their sales split into 1964

    Microsoft Word - _Student Outline #10_ - School of Rock-John LenDominique (Singing Nun)…. said to have sold almost a million by Xmas and then continued just as strong

    Louie, Louie (Kingsmen)…. approached 2 million but well into 1964, topping 3 million in the US alone by late ’67

    There I’ve Said It Again! (Bobby Vinton)….. broke the label record of 94,000 in one day

    You Don’t Own Me (Lesley Gore)…. sold mostly into 1964

    Forget Him (Bobby Rydell)….. ditto

    BIGGEST SELLING DISCS OF 1964: “IT WAS 50 YEARS AGO TODAY…”

    In history, music on April 7, 2014 at 2:09 am

    No, nothing to do with the Sgt Pepper’s album, whose 50th anniversary is still to come three years from now. Though the Beatles changed the stakes by selling just as many albums in the States as singles, individual songs (the A-side of a vinyl single) still made the biggest impact on the charts and to careers — to change to albums later in the decade.

    It was 1964 that was unquestionably the year of the Beatles — in the United States. In their homeland the Beatles had already made multiple breakthroughs right through 1963, their singles more than doubling the sales of the previous one until reaching a ceiling: from Love Me Do (116,000) to Please Please Me (310,000), From Me to You (660,000), the Twist & Shout e.p. the same, She Loves You (1,890,000) and I Want to Hold Your Hand (1,640,000). These last two would remain their biggest-ever sellers in the UK (double that of Hey Jude in 1968 after four years of steadily falling sales across the British industry). After From Me to You had ‘peaked’ for them at 21,000 North American sales, the very last was the disc that finally broke through in America with hefty saturation promotion via New York radio stations during the two weeks of the New Year 1964 holiday. The Beatles were a commercial phenomenon, the biggest thing on disc since the Chipmunks sold seven million of their Xmas song in 1958-59.

    N.B. The figures quoted in this article are the official retail totals of cross-counter sales through each disc’s chart run as far as can be determined from this distance. In Britain this is generally the single’s total up to date, unless specially re-released and publicized as such. In the States vinyl presses tended to be kept at the ready for big hits, especially for long-running performers who could promote the song all over again for seasonal occasions or on tour, and many medium to big hits turned into monumental ones over the years. (Fans couldn’t get enough of those cute Chipmunks and took their disc to 12 million over the next two Xmases.) Note also that the cost of a single in America (and Britain) in the early to mid Sixties ranged from 75 cents upwards — proportionate to relative incomes, more than $10 today. Additionally, the population of the USA — and its record-buyers — was barely more than half what it is today.

    The year before, the Beach Boys had been the biggest sellers of US singles (the Four Seasons in 1962) at around six and a half million in total (my estimate) in a low-selling year, followed by Dion, the Four Seasons, Ray Charles, and Chubby Checker fading, 5th. Surfin’ USA was ajudged the top-selling single by torturous process, out on its own but at probably well under two million, compared to 1962 which had boasted at least seven singles selling the double-million or approaching it.

    The Beatle industry’s massive assault on the USA and rest-of-the-world markets really began in fall 1963 when Capitol executives were summoned from Hollywood to London by Sir Joseph Lockwood, chairman of parent company EMI, to please explain why his trans-global corporation had made no dent at all in the States with its fluffiest product. Capitol, from its point of view, had done fine with its biggest disc sellers, Bozo the Clown in the Fifties, and now the Beach Boys. Lockwood was determined to give a hefty promotional push to this one product in the all-eggs-in-one-basket approach. Sure enough, the Beatle singles that flopped in America over the past year — Please Please Me, From Me to You, She Loves You — were about to be unloaded all over again as new product on an unsuspecting public to sell in the millions, along with such worthies as And I Love Her/If I Fell that got lost in the rush and missed the top 10 (maybe selling close to three quarters of a mill) and real dogs like My Bonnie, that never made it past the 300,000 sales mark but still through saturation airplay made the Billboard top 30 and Sie Liebe Dich (Ja, Ja, Ja) that barely made the Hot 100 — its German even less comprehensible than Liverpudlian. Suffice to say, during April 1964 it was figured that 60% of singles sold in the USA across a three-week period were Beatle ones. At the end of that month, of 14 Beatle singles listing on the charts, five of them lined up at the very top of the Billboard chart.

    The Beatles, mid 1964

    The Beatles, mid 1964

      THE BIGGEST-SELLING SINGLES OF 1964 in the U.S.A.

    alone, as accurately as I can gauge by assiduous research into a period eons before Neilson-Soundscan electronic retail recording:

    1. I Want to Hold Your Hand (Beatles)….. 3,500,000 over the US chart run and building eventually to an estimated 5,300,000; over 12 million worldwide

    2. Hello Dolly (Louis Armstrong)….. approaching 3,000,000 US through 1964

    3. She Loves You (Beatles)……. more than 2,500,000

    4. Oh Pretty Woman (Roy Orbison)…… around 2,000,000 or more

    5. I Get Around (Beach Boys)…… approaching 2,000,000 during US chart run

    6. Louie Louie (Kingsmen)…… approaching 2,000,000 but many during 1963

    7. My Guy (Mary Wells)…… more than 1,500,000

    8. Glad All Over (Dave Clark Five)….. more than 1,500,000

    9. Everybody Loves Somebody (Dean Martin)….. almost 2,000,000 running into 1965

    10. Dominique (The Singing Nun)…. more than 1,750,000 but many during 1963

    (These are the top ten for the year according to Cash Box, the best trade paper at tracking sales, closely confirmed by Billboard for the first five places and then showing increasing variance.)

      OTHER CONTENDERS & RUNNERS-UP

    :

    * Chapel Of Love (Dixie Cups)….. around 2,000,000

    * Can’t Buy Me Love (Beatles)……. record advance order of 2,100,000 but actual sales apparently didn’t approach this

    * I Feel Fine (Beatles)…. advance orders (not retail sales) of a million-plus, building to 1,600,000 but counted under 1965

    * A Hard Day’s Night (Beatles)…… RIAA Gold Disc for a million in the US awarded one month into top 20 run

    * Rag Doll (Four Seasons)….. RIAA Gold Disc awarded two months into top 20 run

    * Twist & Shout (Beatles)…… 1,250,000

    * Last Kiss (J Frank Wilson & the Cavaliers)….. a million within three months

    * You Don’t Own Me (Lesley Gore)…… more than 1,000,000 during chart run

    * Dawn (Go Away) (Four Seasons)….. over a million by internal evidence relative to others

    * Bits and Pieces (Dave Clark Five)….. Gold disc awarded by Epic label within three months

    * Please Please Me (Beatles)……. 1,185,725 in US

    * Love Me Do (Beatles)……. 1,165,200 in US

    * Dancing In The Street (Martha & the Vandellas)….. 1,000,000 in chart run

    * We’ll Sing in the Sunshine (Gale Garnett)…. posted by Billboard at 9th for the year but only documentation is more than 900,000 within three months

    * Where Did Our Love Go? (Supremes)………. 1,072,270 sale quoted by Motown contract

    * Do You Want to Know a Secret (Beatles)…… 1,000,000

    * Fun Fun Fun (Beach Boys)……. accumulating 1,000,000 in US in a few months; reported in 1995 as having sold “over 4 million”

    * Baby Love (Supremes)….. more than 1,000,000 but counted into 1965

    * Remember (Walking in the Sand) (Shangri-Las)….. “a million”

    * G.T.O. (Ronny & the Daytonas)…… “a million”

    * Walk Don’t Run ’64 (Ventures)….. “(second) gold disc”

    * My Boy Lollipop (Millie Small)…… “almost a million”

    * Little Old Lady From Pasadena (Jan & Dean)… presumed million from internal evidence

    * California Sun (Rivieras)….. “almost a million”

    * The Girl From Ipanema (Stan Getz & Astrud Gilberto)….. “almost 1,000,000”

    * Dang Me (Roger Miller)…… claimed a million

    * Chug-A-Lug (Roger Miller)….. claimed a million

    * Little Honda (Hondells)…. Beach Boys in disguise, selling a million

    * Don’t Let the Rain Come Down (Crooked Little Man) (Serendipity Singers)…. 800,000-plus initially

    * Baby I Need Your Lovin’ (Four Tops)….. 750,000 initially, building to a million in 1965

    * A Woman’s Love (Carla Thomas)…. barely made the weekly top 100 but sold a million in the r&b market

    * Dance Dance Dance (Beach Boys)…. at least three quarters of a million, taken over the million by record club sales

    * When I Grow Up (Beach Boys)…. as above, similarly barely top 10 in Billboard (airplay) but top 5 in sales charts

    * Ask Me/Ain’t That Lovin’ You Baby (Elvis Presley)…. initially 700,000 sold, going on eventually to gold disc US

    * Kissin’ Cousins (Elvis Presley)…. quoted 700,000 sales

    * Viva Las Vegas (Elvis Presley)…. initially just under 500,000 but going on long term to a US gold disc

    * Dead Man’s Curve (Jan & Dean)…. reported 790,000 sold in US spring chart run

    * Ride the Wild Surf (Jan & Dean)…. est. three quarters of a million plus

    * Sidewalk Surfin’ (Jan & Dean)…. (reworded from the Beach Boys’ Catch A Wave), reported 700,000-plus by spring ’65 though barely top 30

      SPECIAL MENTION

    :

    * Downtown (Petula Clark)….. didn’t enter top 20 till second day of 1965 (but went on to sell 3 million in US alone)

    * You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ (Righteous Bros)….. ditto the same day

      QUESTION MARKS

    :

    * House of the Rising Sun (Animals)…… no.1 but no confirmation

    * Do Wah Diddy Diddy (Manfred Mann)…… no.1 but no confirmation

    * Leader of the Pack (Shangri-Las)….. no.1 but similarly no confirmation of a million US sale (but pulled off a rare feat of placing top in all four major US charts, Billboard, Cash Box, Record World, Variety)

    * She’s Not There (Zombies)….. no.1 but no confirmation

    Martha Reeves heading the Vandellas.

    Martha Reeves heading the Vandellas.

    1962: Sixties Music Thriving

    In history, music on March 17, 2014 at 9:40 pm

    The year 1962 was one of those “watershed” years, if that metaphor can somehow be applied to the popular music business. Five years before, at the height of the explosion of rock’n’roll, had seen posted the all-time record in vinyl disc sales. By 1959 the boom had dipped to a slump and recovery was slow. Now three years later came the long-awaited big comeback in singles and the first sizable advance in sales of albums since they’d been introduced a few years before. Popular music albums had been the poor relation of movie soundtracks, original stage cast productions and comedy albums, which quite regularly sold over a million even for comics now virtually forgotten: Allen Sherman, Bob Newhart, Shelley Berman, Dick Gregory (a controversial black humorist), Rusty Warren (she was a woman)… In pop music there had been operatic movie star Mario Lanza appearing early in the Fifties but by their end only two black crooners of “Easy Listening” music, Harry Belafonte and Johnny Mathis, stood out as reliable sellers of albums in big numbers. Elvis Presley’s first million-selling album took two or three years to get there. And it would be 1963 before the first Sixties “rock” stars made it big in albums: Peter, Paul & Mary

    From right, the lovely Mary Travers, and the professorial Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey.

    From right, the lovely Mary Travers, and the professorial Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey.

    and the Beach Boys; and in Britain, the Beatles.

    Two more black balladeers, Ray Charles and Nat King Cole, took to “country” music in ’62 though their bluesy/jazz voices could not be disguised, taking their biggest numbers I Can’t Stop Loving You and Ramblin’ Rose up to top the charts and go further to post the rare landmark of two million disc sales. The summer especially saw sales rocket, in many major cities some fifty percent or more over the previous year. For the first time, songs that barely made Billboard’s top 20 sold a million discs or close to it: Surfin’ Safari by the Beach Boys and Silver Threads and Golden Needles by the Springfields with lead singer Dusty. (Though in the face of this renewed rock impetus, “Easy Listening” for “adults” still ruled: Tony Bennett’s slow-selling I Left My Heart in San Francisco accumulating two million.) In autumn too came the biggest new white group of the rock era thus far, innovating in writing, arranging and producing their own recordings. The Four Seasons,

    The Four Seasons in 1962, of 'Sherry', 'Big Girls Don't Cry' and 'Walk Like a Man' vintage. From left: lead singer/falsetto Frankie Valli, Tommy De Vito (guitar), Bob Gaudio (songwriter/keyboards), Nick Massi (bass vocals, bass guitar)

    The Four Seasons in 1962, of ‘Sherry’, ‘Big Girls Don’t Cry’ and ‘Walk Like a Man’ vintage. From left: lead singer/falsetto Frankie Valli, Tommy De Vito (guitar), Bob Gaudio (songwriter/keyboards), Nick Massi (bass vocals, bass guitar)

    Italian-Americans from New Jersey, scored with Sherry, moving 180,000 copies the day after being played on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand and climbing to a double-million seller; then Big Girls Don’t Cry, almost as big.

    In black music the balladeer group the Platters had dominated pop since 1955, recently overtaken by the Drifters in r&b/pop (Save the Last Dance for Me, Up On the Roof) and, more spectacularly, girl group the Shirelles whose standout 1962 entry was Baby It’s You, a revolution in sound and mood and dwarfing the quality of the remake the Beatles would fast turn out in tribute; accompanying it was their big number one for the year, Soldier Boy. Already, by fall, they were being eclipsed by Phil Spector group the Crystals (He’s a Rebel), to be top girl group until the arrival of Motown’s Martha (Reeves) & the Vandellas (Heat Wave) a year later, and Diana Ross & the Supremes yet a year further along.

    Martha Reeves heading the Vandellas: more talented than Diana Ross but not cozy with the boss.

    Martha Reeves heading the Vandellas: more talented than Diana Ross but not cozy with the boss.

    However, the massive seismic impact that changed the music scene overnight in the New Year of ’62 was the second coming of The Twist, as a song, but primarily a dance that took the world by storm, for the first time getting middle-aged trendies like Jackie Kennedy, Marlene Dietrich and Zsa Zsa Gabor up on the teen dance floor. The singer — and gyrater — was moca-colored Chubby Checker, in the process of overtaking Elvis this year. Uniquely topping the charts twice in two years with a song that Billboard would name the biggest of the rock era. Ensuring a bridge from the Fifties’ seminal r&b of Hank Ballard,

    Hank Ballard: too black for a superstar in 1960

    Hank Ballard: too black for a superstar in 1960

    its raucous but precise execution blaring out of millions of pocket transistors worldwide emphatically confirmed that black rock music was the model from now on.

    Elvis’s most convincing heir as white interpreter of black music was Dion (DiMucci), with more r&b feel than other Italian-American teen idols like Bobby Darin, Bobby Rydell, Frankie Avalon, Fabian Forte. He was hot with Runaround Sue, The Wanderer and Ruby Baby. The following year James Brown and 13-year-old “genius” Stevie Wonder would continue to hoist black rock on high with chart-topping albums. And Sam Cooke (Chain Gang, Bring It On Home to Me)

    Sam Cooke: smooth and soulful, with an incomparable voice that made you sit up and listen.

    Sam Cooke: smooth and soulful, with an incomparable voice that made you sit up and listen.

    would stake his claim as the Prince of Soul, along with Jackie Wilson (Baby Work Out) — who with Brown would determine the most striking dance moves of Michael Jackson.

    DIY Rock Stars (Part 1)

    In history, music on November 11, 2013 at 6:02 am

    In the 1960s the Beatles and Monkees both hit with a formula for unbridled, all-round success, or rather stumbled on it because in the end their own abilities had not much to do with it. They were big-business success stories more than anything else, in a pattern that became more common in ensuing decades as independent artists grew rarer. Both groups were the passive objects of well-connected, highly driven managers; were the favored projects of big corporations in disc recording and television, even movies. And both groups played the game for whatever it took, going well beyond the bounds of their own good taste to ensure bigger bucks for everyone in their trans-continental organizations. The Supremes too, with much less to offer as non-songwriters and non-musicians, were hoisted as the pet superstars favored above everyone else at the Motown label. Everyone else had to do it themselves in the Sixties.

    Beach Boys wait with parents (co-signing for minors) in the outer office of the Capitol Tower, Hollywood, ready to sign with the label, May 1962: from left, Carl Wilson, 15; Brian Wilson, 19; Dave Marks, 13; Denny Wilson, 17; Murry Wilson, Audree Wilson and the Marks parents.

    Beach Boys wait with parents (co-signing for minors) in the outer office of the Capitol Tower, Hollywood, ready to sign with the label, May 1962: from left, Carl Wilson, 15; Brian Wilson, 19; Dave Marks, 13; Denny Wilson, 17; Murry Wilson, Audree Wilson and the Marks parents.

    The Beach Boys, with the Wilson brothers’ father as manager, had scored a rare coup — a minor national hit with their first recording that became a big hit locally in Los Angeles, San Diego and the rest of Southern California, and got airplay up the rest of the Pacific Coast and as far afield as Erie PA and Italy. It was six months before a major label — Capitol/EMI — took them up and they had to do it themselves all over again, this time with the classic Surfin’ Safari. This vinyl single by itself (backed with co-rocker car song 409) represented a nine-month struggle that brought survival for the group and rock music back to the airwaves after a consensus of radio stations, particularly in New York, had agreed in early 1962 to push nice, quieter, slower melodic music for “grown-ups”.

    Produced by the group and recorded at an independent studio in April, signed over to Capitol in May and issued early June, the A-side was being played two weeks before release at KMEN-San Bernardino though “put down” by radio bosses in LA itself. The virtual blacklist on rock that existed among radio stations across America, the prejudice against newcomers in LA and the overriding preference for c&w across the South, Southwest and great swaths of the Midwest, would all have to be overcome by any new act entering the rock scene and wanting to go nationwide, never mind worldwide. Capitol put no more than $5,000 into promoting the label’s first rock group into stars (one tenth of the budget they would lay out 18 months later to establish the Beatles in New York City, gateway to North America). By the end of its first month it was high on playlists in Ohio, at the independent WDON in Washington DC and WYDE-Birmingham AL.

    It would hit high on charts at “surfin'” spots on the West Coast but “early” only in one sense: early in August in San Diego, Fresno and Seattle; early September in LA; and finally rebounded back to San Francisco early in November. In time the Beach Boys’ first big hit, which bore a passing resemblance to the Chubby Checker and Coasters style of r&b, would also top in Phoenix, Oklahoma City, Dallas-Fort Worth, Buffalo, Minneapolis-St Paul and other regional centers. It sold most in New York City, breaking Capitol sales records there in rising to runner-up and over the next fifteen years surveyed as the seventh biggest- selling song in the 25 million catchment area of the major WNBC network station; and did (proportionately) almost as well in the other big music centers of the day, Chicago, Philadelphia and Detroit. In September also it reached the top ten in Sydney, Australia, to register as the group’s first international winner, and in November topped the Swedish chart.

    In the meantime, 409 on its own would top-ten charts in San Bernardino-Riverside, Seattle, Denver, New Jersey, New Hampshire… and go to the very top in Charleston WV, and Dallas only in the very last week of 1962.

    BUY MY BOOKS, DAMN IT!

    In literature, music on August 17, 2013 at 8:55 am

    Once upon a time in London, centuries ago, before Fleet Street became a synonym for the journalism of daily reportage, there was Grub Street. This was a catch-all for the work place and social milieu of the hack writer, hundreds of whom hired themselves out to write bits and pieces great and small. The famous Dr Samuel Johnson started like this, lucky to be able to afford company at a coffee shoppe, compiling his dictionary in the 1750s with assistance from emmanuensises, sponsored by wealthy “patrons”. After the best part of a decade the dictionary was finished and when his patrons came a-calling he could afford to kick their asses. Don’t know exactly what I’m trying to say here, but if you buy my books as a patron of my work I promise I won’t kick your ass…

    Irish writer Oliver Goldsmith (She Stoops to Conquer, The Vicar of Wakefield) was another habitue of Grub Street and friend of Johnson, who was finally acknowledged but was forced to sell his classics cheap to publishers, was continually hounded by creditors and died young of privations already sustained. Johnson himself didn’t escape multiple afflictions from his imposed lifestyle. And Richard Savage was another notable acquaintance, a talented poet who never made it and starved to death.

    But I’m quite comfortably off, though it’s normally two months between moca bowls (at the NZ Herald Proofreaders Old Boys Gathering, Cafe Liaison, Pompallier Tce, Ponsonby) — So, sorry for laying the guilt trip on you. The thing is, I don’t care at all for the marketing that goes into being “an author” these days and being a shameless self-promoter rubbing shoulders with get-rich-quick grifters and self-improvement freaks. But if I’m doing this once I might as well try the hard sell.

    The series "Sixties Whiteboy Rock" is based on my 2007 book "Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: Rediscovering Sixties Music" -- revised and expanded.

    The series “Sixties Whiteboy Rock” is based on my 2007 book “Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: Rediscovering Sixties Music” — revised and expanded.

    To buy ($9.99) or borrow (about $2.50) an ebook go to Amazon and look up “Sixties Whiteboy Rock”. There will be two available in the series to choose from, but since you’re there you might as well buy both — featuring everything you ever wanted to know about Sixties Music up to around mid 1965; though black music will be featured more fully in its own volume later. Each volume is about 65,000 words plus 60 photos. The next two volumes, due out in the next few months, will cover the second half of the Sixties. Even if you don’t like Sixties Music there are some good polemical chapters/passages arguing for authenticity in art. And if you don’t care for early rock music or argumentative criticism, I should have my first short novel up in the next half-year or so, of the gritty-street-life variety and set in Auckland.

    “ROCK MUSIC EBOOK 2013 — SIXTIES WHITEBOY ROCK (Part 2): Beach Boys, Jersey Boys & Beatledom” by G. A. De Forest

    In art, celebrity, generational/fashion, music on July 30, 2013 at 8:44 pm

    Buy this ebook from Amazon for $9.99 (or borrow it for two weeks for a lot less) — or face the consequences. These include staying ignorant of the real facts of the Sixties music scene, a subject, though a half-century out of date, remains dear to the hearts of all right-thinking people around the world. Rock stars to this day are strongly influenced, “sample” and downright copy sounds from this era. But they do this at their peril because no way can they recapture the excitement and spirit of that music and time — set in context as it is here in this book.

    The direct link to the book is: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DQFWEJQ

    It is about 60,000 words and has some 60 photos of top attractions of the day — so Bon voyage!

    Don’t be the only loser on your block!

    My New Book: “Black Rock via Beach Boys vs Beatlemania = Sixties Music”

    In celebrity, history, music on October 21, 2011 at 10:11 pm

    MichaelJasboy284My new book is due out before Christmas — this Xmas, 2011 [CORRECTION: Xmas 2013]. Entitled “Black Rock via Beach Boys vs Beatlemania = Sixties Music”, it is an ebook distributed by Booklocker.com — The price hasn’t been set yet, but should be way affordable for all you rockers interested in reading over 600 pages (over 250,000 words) touching on almost every aspect of the music business in the Sixties. Again, like the previous paperback “Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: Rediscovering Sixties Music” (booklocker.com, 448 pages, publ 2007), it is seen in the context of the Beach Boys vs Beatles debate. The bulk of the original book is still there, and refined. But I’ve added a LOT more (nearly 200 pages) especially on the highly influential and pivotal roles of your favorite neglected African American acts of the Sixties: James Brown, Sam Cooke, Ray Charles, Jackie Wilson, Hank Ballard & the Midniters, the Tokens, the Isley Bros, Chubby Checker, Ike & Tina Turner, Etta James, the Chantels, the Shirelles, the Chiffons, the Crystals, the Ronettes, the New Orleans and Chicago schools, Sly & the Family Stone — and all the VeeJay, Motown, Atlantic stars including Little Esther Phillips, Little Willie John, Jerry Butler, Curtis Mayfield & the Impressions, Bobby Blue Bland and Mercury stars Sarah Vaughan, Brook Benton,Dinah Washington, Timi Yuro.

    Don’t miss out on what could be the ONE book on Sixties Music you’ve been wanting.

    ROCK MUSIC — FAVORITE HITS OF 1965

    In music on August 31, 2010 at 8:31 am

    Mohair Sam — Charlie Rich
    Engine Engine No. 9 — Roger Miller
    King of the Road — Roger Miller
    Wooly Bully — Sam the Sham & the Pharoahs
    Do You Believe in Magic? — Lovin’ Spoonful
    James-Brown_1973Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag — James Brown
    I Got You — James Brown
    Let’s Hang On — Four Seasons
    Ticket to Ride — Beatles
    We Can Work It Out — Beatles
    Help! — Beatles
    California Girls — Beach Boys
    Do You Wanna Dance — Beach Boys
    Help Me Rhonda — Beach Boys
    The_Temptations_on_the_Ed_Sullivan_ShowMy Girl — Temptations
    It’s the Same Old Song — Four Tops
    My Generation — The Who
    I Can’t Explain — The Who
    Keep On Running — Spencer Davis Group
    Mr Tambourine Man — Byrds
    Turn Turn Turn — Byrds
    All I Really Wanna Do — Byrds
    Satisfaction — Rolling Stones
    Get Off of My Cloud — Rolling Stones
    How Sweet It Is — Marvin Gaye
    Nowhere to Run — Martha & the Vandellas
    FontellaBassRescue Me — Fontella Bass
    Baby I’m Yours — Barbara Lewis
    Yes I’m Ready — Barbara Mason
    Like a Rolling Stone — Bob Dylan
    Positively 4th Street — Bob Dylan
    With These Hands — Tom Jones
    It’s Not Unusual — Tom Jones
    What’s New Pussycat? — Tom Jones
    1 — 2 — 3 — Len Barry
    Go Now — Moody Blues
    It Ain’t Me Babe — Turtles
    Let Me Be — Turtles
    Eve of Destruction — Barry McGuire
    Make It Easy on Yourself — Walker Bros
    My Ship is Coming In — Walker Bros
    Ebb Tide — Righteous Bros
    Just Once in My Life — Righteous Bros
    True Love Ways — Peter & Gordon
    Heart Full of Soul — Yardbirds
    Evil Hearted You — Yardbirds
    I’m a Man — Yardbirds
    Tired of Waiting For You — Kinks
    See My Friend — Kinks
    Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood — Animals
    We Gotta Get Out of This Place — Animals
    It’s My Life — Animals
    Concrete and Clay — Unit Four Plus Two
    Crying in the Chapel — Elvis Presley
    I Got You Babe — Sonny & Cher
    Back in My Arms Again — Supremes
    Stop In the Name of Love — Supremes

    ROCK MUSIC: FAVORITE HITS OF 1967

    In history, music on September 22, 2009 at 6:49 am

    Lovely Tammi Terrell, soon deceased of a brain tumor, with Marvin Gaye

    Lovely Tammi Terrell, soon deceased of a brain tumor, with Marvin Gaye

    Pata Pata — Miriam Makeba
    Purple Haze — Jimi Hendrix
    Heroes & Villains — the Beach Boys
    Happy Jack — the Who
    Tin Soldier — the Small Faces
    Mas Que Nada — Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’66
    So You Want to Be a Rock and Roll Star — the Byrds
    The Letter — the Box Tops
    Mellow Yellow — Donovan
    Words — the Monkees
    Chain of Fools — Aretha Franklin
    Let the Heartaches Begin — Long John Baldry
    Rain on the Roof — the Lovin’ Spoonful
    Waterloo Sunset — the Kinks
    Ain’t No Mountain High Enough — Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell
    How Can I Be Sure? — the Rascals
    The Wind Cries Mary — Jimi Hendrix
    Light My Fire — the Doors
    Respect — Aretha franklin
    I Feel Free — the Cream
    Hello Goodbye — the Beatles
    Dedicated to the One I Love — the Mamas & the Papas
    There is a Mountain — Donovan
    Ode to Billie Joe — Bobbie Gentry
    Groovin’ — the Rascals
    I’ll Never Fall in Love Again — Tom Jones
    I Had to Much to Dream Last Night — the Electric Prunes
    Natural Woman — Aretha Franklin
    Eight Miles High — the Byrds
    Wild Honey — the Beach Boys
    Hole in My Shoe — Traffic
    Strange Brew — the Cream
    Strawberry Fields — the Beatles
    A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You — the Monkees
    When I Was Young — the Animals
    Pictures of Lily — the Who
    Hey Baby — the Buckinghams
    The Day I Met Marie — Cliff Richard
    I Was Made to Love Her — Stevie Wonder
    Itchycoo Park — the Small Faces
    Baby Now That I’ve Found You — the Foundations
    Sweet Soul Music — Arthur Conley
    Jimmy Mack — Martha & the Vandellas
    Ruby Tuesday — the Rolling Stones
    It Takes Two — Marvin Gaye & Kim Weston
    Hey Joe — Jimi Hendrix
    I’m a Man — the Spencer Davis Group
    Randy Scouse Git (Alternate Title) — the Monkees
    I Can See for Miles — the Who
    Funny Familiar Forgotten Feelings — Tom Jones
    Bernadette — the Four Tops
    Show Me — Joe Tex
    Homburg — Procol Harum
    Magical Mystery Tour — the Beatles
    She’s My Girl — the Turtles
    I Feel Love Coming On — Felice Taylor
    Love is All Around — the Troggs
    Come to the Sunshine — Harper’s Bizarre
    Get Me to the World On Time — the Electric Prunes
    I Got Rhythm — the Happenings
    Felice Taylor, au naturale

    Felice Taylor, au naturale

    BOOK REVIEW — BEATLES BOOK: Can’t Buy Me Love

    In celebrity, literature, music on August 1, 2009 at 12:54 am

    Can’t Buy Me Love by Jonathan Gould (Piatkus, 2007) is one of those religious books about the Beatles that starts from a standpoint of unquestioning admiration for the Liverpool pop group and ends in total devotion, as in devout worship of a single entity, monotheism. And they were a single entity, as proven by their desultory solo careers in the post-Beatle era, when none of them could foot it for creativity and cohesive output without Brian Epstein to push them along and producer/arranger George Martin to fill in the many gaps in their songs and make each one into a finished product.

    In this 400-page love letter to an act, nay, an industry easy to endorse — Didn’t they sell the most records? — Gould doesn’t let tweaking of facts and half-truths stand in the way of a good myth that rates in commercial potency with Harrypottermania and Lord of the Rings, and matches them too in fictional blarney. My question is, Why even bother to write such a book when the Beatle legend has already been so insidiously planted and firmly cemented in people’s minds over the past forty years as the be-all-and-end-all of the Sixties?

    The Beatles, mid 1964: The Beach Boys had already proven themselves far and away ahead of The Fab Four by self-producing the single 'I Get Around'/'Don't Worry Baby', released in May.

    The Beatles, mid 1964: The Beach Boys had already proven themselves far and away ahead of The Fab Four by self-producing the single 'I Get Around'/'Don't Worry Baby', released in May.

    Gould’s total lack of imagination or enterprise in even choosing a relevant title — after all, he doesn’t spend much time covering the Beatles’ Hamburg sojourn when the Beatles did buy themselves ‘love’ from the Reeperbahn prostitutes — reminds me of the pathetic titles chosen by Television New Zealand whenever it wanted to screen a retrospective on the Sixties in general: All You Need is Love, Hello — Goodbye … All done because everyone knows a Beatle title will sell more product.

    Among the many fictitious assertions made by Gould in a superficial book are several I have selected in relation to the Beach Boys, the acknowledged Sixties mainstream rivals to the Beatles. I explore these since the American group is one I have studied in depth: see my book Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: Rediscovering Sixties Music.

    Assertion 1) — “Brian Wilson accounted for nine tenths of the talent of the Beach Boys”–Gould contrasting them with the supposedly uniformly, mega-talented Beatles.

    This is bizarre. Has Gould heard nothing of the immense composing, producing and blues-singing talent of Dennis Wilson? The singing, composing and producing of Carl Wilson? The culturally-relevant lyric-writing and universally-admired bass voice of Mike Love? Al Jardine had measurably more creative and performing talent than Ringo, whose ‘singing’ of lead vocals has been a politely overlooked though glaring debit in the Beatles column.

    Assertion 2) — Brian Wilson’s voice wasn’t in the same class as Paul McCartney’s.

    McCartney was adept at imitating a rock’n’roll screech — as taught to him by Little Richard. He had a sweet but bland voice on ballads. As for expressiveness and purity, and genuine versatility in turning his voice to any mood, Wilson takes the nod hands down.

    Assertion 3) — Brian Wilson’s songs were characterised by “cloying sentimentality.”

    Gould doesn’t know the difference between pure emotion expressed in music, in which Brian Wilson is surpassed by no one in mainstream music, and the Beatles’ cloyingly sentimental ‘luv’ cliches regurgitated from Music Hall. McCartney cites his father, a music hall musician, as his major formative influence.

    and maybe the most ludicrous statement of all:

    Assertion 4) — By 1966 the Beach Boys’ level of production, arrangements and group singing had almost caught up with “the innovations of the Beatles.”

    This one sentence contains at least five blatant untruths that I can name and refute:

    a) The Beach Boys produced their own recordings from early 1962 on — therefore were ahead of the Beatles in production from the start. This was readily apparent by the time of Surfin’ USA, Surfer Girl and Be True to Your School/In My Room in 1963 and became bleedin’ obvious the following year with I Get Around/Don’t Worry Baby and Little Honda/Wendy. According to the people who recorded the Beatles, including George Martin and Norman Smith, the Beatles continually clamored for the recording technicians to get more of an American sound, i.e. similar to the Beach Boys, Motown, etc–not the other way round. b) The Beatles didn’t produce their records — George Martin did. According to Parlophone/EMI recording engineer Norman “Hurricane” Smith the Beatles barely listened to their own recordings — didn’t even wear earphones in the recording booth. c) The Beatles didn’t arrange their songs — George Martin did, and according to Martin they knew almost nothing about non-rock’n’roll instruments. d) This is laughable. When did the Beatles ever dare to expose their ‘group singing’ via a-cappella? — as the Beach Boys did on occasions from the start. e) What innovations did the Beatles themselves introduce, except watering down rock’n’roll, country music, Eurocafe ballads, etc, etc, and turning around the rock direction of Motown, Atlantic, Vee-Jay, Philles, the Beach Boys, to bring back songs from musicals like ‘Til There Was You’, ‘A Taste of Honey’.? By the end of 1966 their music was more and more electronic, deserted by George Martin to leave a novice electronics wiz in charge of their recording.

    ROCK MUSIC — MICHAEL JACKSON: It’s not as if Elvis just died!

    In generational/fashion, morality, music, psychology/psychiatry on June 28, 2009 at 7:47 am

    From all the fuss of the past few days anyone would think Elvis has just died. Instead it’s just the ever-encroaching end, the gradual unravelling, of an American Idol of yesteryear. To me, Jackson embodied in one increasingly strange person all the show business imperatives necessary to get to and sustain yourself at the top of celebrity today. Looking at all the Madonnas and Britney Spears of the past half-century, who have followed Jackson’s lead, it’s amazing how much success can be engendered by essentially stupid people with a single idiotic but unquestioned idea pursued single-mindedly, without thought entering to disturb the ‘creative’ process.

    He was the dream of every American Idol show and its multifarious spinoffs around the world that perpetuate such realities as: the generic ‘rock’ voice shorn of all distinction or real emotion, pared of all identifying idiosyncracies or sign of humanity, so as not to offend anyone by unsightly originality or unseemly singularity — the equivalent of the ubiquitous fuzzed guitar notes and chords backing rock tracks for the past thirty years.

    The toast of Motown and little soul-groovers around the world in 1970 (‘I Want You Back’, ‘A-B-C’, ‘The Love You Save’), the Jackson Five lowered themselves fast to Osmonds Pop and on to disco mid-decade. michael jackson 1By late decade Michael as a solo had rid himself of genuine soul and found something distinctive: white skin and a perky little nose, which alarmingly shrank year by year into an almost microscopic compass point. More than music, most charitably described as amorphous sound designed to dance to, the multitude of stage moves he devised, all executed jerkily at lightning speed but still with immaculate timing, were right up there in the best traditions of circus performers seen on America’s Got Talent — and, it must, be remembered, years before them.

    Most successfully of all in the superstar firmament, he developed an unparalleled ability to generate fan sympathy in the face of evermore outrageous self-indulgence, previously the domain of friends and mentors such as Elizabeth Taylor and Diana Ross. Was that his underlying essence, and predestined downfall, that he possessed the psyche of an androgynous being in which the rules that everyone else had to live by didn’t count? Like your ordinary garden-variety diva (and many are said to have the mentality of cultivated, nurtured pot plants) but encumbered by male expectations?

    Generating so much money for so many people, he was pampered so that every whim no matter how bizarre was catered for. Every momentary desire was met with a resounding “Yes” by the Yes Men surrounding him day and night, and female celebrities spread their legs to be implanted with his divine seed in hopes of producing cloned products in a dynasty of inevitable success. Not only were the needs of others of no account but he was so far removed from reality that he brought others into actual physical danger — as when he used his baby as a public performance prop — to satisfy his own need for public acclaim, at least notoriety when he was capable of nothing more.

    Above all he is responsible for the superstar mantra “Make your own rules” — not in stretching the boundaries of intellect in creating imaginative new music.

    And tonight on the news there is a mass spontaneous tribute to his “Moon Walk” — with fans crowded in the street, linking hands and all shuffling backwards together, at least with better coordination and timing than you would expect from, say, a gathering of demented winos. What greater legacy can a performer leave?

    His other trademark innovation on stage was simulating masturbating on stage, in time, into a white clinical glove — presumably all the better to inspire those better endowed with semen to donate. It undoubtedly inspired Justin Timberlake to develop his own innovative great leap forward in performance art: simulating humping women dog-like from behind, on stage, to the delight of his millions of fans around the world who pay hundreds of dollars each to see this and the other wonders of his talent.

    That all said, I once caught a sustained glimpse of Michael Jackson in a two-hour interview, probably recorded around the turn of the millennium, undertaken to ameliorate the worst backlash after the pedophile accusations. (For the record, I believe them to be false, but how stupid can you be to take unrelated children into your bed and explain it “as the most loving thing in the world”?) I remember my mother, who had just watched it with me and was genuinely intrigued, asking what I thought of him as a genuine creative personality. I told her that I didn’t know if he was a genius but he came across to me as a genuine artist in pursuit of what artists should be — thoughtful, considered work.

    Given the nature of the sensationalizing media and the chameleon-like image of Jackson’s public persona as portrayed, who can say what was in his mind from one minute to the next? So I bow to the authority of Quincy Jones, a hugely influential figure in music production for half a century, for the final word — confirming Michael Jackson didn’t like being a black man but dubbing him all the same a “performance genius”. Who might guess what Leonardo da Vinci would have turned out looking like had a mass media existed to shine the brightest spotlight in the world on him 24-7?

    And so the debate goes on …

    ROCK MUSIC — Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: PET SOUNDS rebounds from RUBBER SOUL—gunned down by REVOLVER

    In generational/fashion, history, music on February 20, 2008 at 10:28 pm

    Excerpt #4 from BEACH BOYS vs BEATLEMANIA: Rediscovering Sixties Music by G. A. De Forest, published by Booklocker.com and available for around $19.95 from Amazon, Borders, Books-a-Million, Barnes & Noble or any other of your favorite Internet stops

    Sales peak thus far: #23 on Amazon.com’s hot 100 Music History & Criticism books, April 26th 2008

    On hearing the Beatles’ Rubber Soul Brian Wilson was spurred to create an album of songs that “sound like they belong together, like a collection of folk songs”. The Beach Boys had done that with their first album, and each song distinctive. What the Beatles had really done was create an album of mood-related songs with an unvaryingly sombre tone. Wilson’s group would try it, but he was temperamentally incapable of being monotonous.

    pet-sounds By the US media and as the legend has gone ever since, Pet Sounds was a flop album. The greatest masterwork of the Beach Boys, America’s greatest-ever band, was said to have failed precisely in the terms that America appreciates best: dollars. Until the year 2000 it had never been awarded an RIAA Gold Disc to confirm a mere 500,000 sale. Then a three-month audit by Capitol, not counting “missing paperwork”, tallied 670,000 copies over the previous 15 years and estimated a lifelong US tally of two million-plus—ranking it well up among their studio albums, all assuming naïvely they didn’t have paperwork problems too. Lyricist Tony Asher’s earnings from it were $60,000 by 1990—his cut of royalties at one quarter of 1%, implying world revenues by then of $24 million just for known sales of the eight songs he contributed lyrics for; therefore $39 million had been earned from the 13-song album. Given that its price ranged around $4 in its heyday this would extrapolate to anything up to ten million units (worldwide) had they sold all at once. With steadily rising prices over succeeding decades, and adding in a couple million sales since 1990, a total of well over six million units by now might be guessed at. Even the boring 4-CD ‘documentary’ Pet Sounds Sessions (1996) quickly went gold in the US.

    It took the rock world by storm—the Beach Boy image unrecognisable under a sophisticated veneer—and softened the ground for Revolver three months later. In this new millennium the album that has been most frequently voted the greatest of all, ever, is one that, according to the angle perpetuated by the press, came out of the blue, a fluke—the one (grudgingly) acknowledged work of genius supposedly by an idiot-savant cum schizophrenic. The same consensus of rock critics who hold his band up as America’s most important ever belittles their other work in relation to the Beatles’.

    But Brian Wilson had been in direct competition with the cleverly crafted songs of Lennon-McCartney-Martin for more than two years. His highly developed sense of rivalry had finely wrought a style more distinctive and more celebrated than any other in modern pop, apparently without any reference to the Beatles or other contemporaries. Was it enough?

    RUBBER SOUL, THAT ‘PROVED’ BEATLE PRIMACY, began recording on October 12th 1965, five days after The Moors Murders were reported to the police by a witness—a graphic shock to Britain with its unfathomably (to Americans) low murder rate: a series of sado-sexual snuffings-out of children on the bleak moorland above Manchester, committed (and recorded for their own enjoyment) by an ordinary young couple.

    The day after the Beatles got underway the Beach Boys started work on ‘The Little Girl I Once Knew’, unattached to an album, and Brian was working solo on the first vocals for ‘Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)’—for Pet Sounds, postponed by Capitol’s insistence on new l.p. product by Xmas: hence the stop-gap Party released November 8th.

    Brian Wilson in the studio for the Pet Sounds sessions

    Brian Wilson in the studio for the Pet Sounds sessions

    For two days Brian holds court over a 40-piece orchestra led by Four Freshmen veteran Dick Reynolds. He goes home filled with ideas about how to apply orchestration to modern rock and starts sketching them out.

    Rubber Soul accompanied ‘We Can Work It Out’/‘Day Tripper’ in release the first week of December and set a US record of a million sold in a week. In Britain the 45 was their most popular post-1964, but album sales didn’t approach their usual flood. The double and upcoming single ‘Nowhere Man’ were by far the most commercial songs on the (UK) album but with all that—under the direct influence of Bob Dylan—the basis of the group’s critical cred had shifted from their hit-making ability to a consistent general standard. So while ‘If I Needed Someone’ (by George), ‘In My Life’ and ‘Norwegian Wood’ were poignant and ‘Drive My Car’ and ‘Run For Your Life’ deserving as well, non-entities such as ‘I’m Looking Through You’ and ‘What Goes On?’ were deemed quality because, given Beatle magnitude and their songs’ huge exposure, every one found followers. Still, there are three tracks I can’t recall hearing.

    A vaunted innovation was the sitar on ‘Norwegian Wood’—remembering that Shel Talmy had applied a sitar sound on Kinks single ‘See My Friend’. What the Beatles did had to be successful—so the Stones used one on ‘Paint It Black’. Used out of context of Indian music—also on Petula Clark’s ‘Color My World’—it lends a quirky trendiness rather than integrated musicality.

    Since ‘Yesterday’ on Help! statisticians had been totting up cover versions of Beatle songs. That one reaped nearly 1,200 and now ‘Michelle’ from Rubber Soul scored half that—still a large tally. The similar ‘Girl’, this time from John, probably did well in the cover department too. They were all that kind of song—simple and memorable, of the kind that café and cabaret singers could take endless stabs at in the pre-karaoke era. Paul McCartney: “‘Michelle’ was a joke really. A French tune that you may hear at a party and you’d parody it to death” (Pritchard & Lysaght).

    October 26th the Beatles, minus George Martin, had received their MBE medals from the Queen, recognizing their export value—the next bonanza, Rubber Soul, due for the Xmas market around the world. Interviews of George Martin in Pritchard & Lysaght’s The Beatles: an Oral History show how integral he still was—three years on—to the whole process of creating Beatle music. “If there was a keyboard used it was generally me who played it… I was responsible, generally, for the solos. I don’t mean that I would write George’s solo necessarily, although sometimes that did happen, but I would say, “Right, we need a solo here.” Or “We need a line here. How about this?” For example, in the song ‘In My Life’ I played the harpsichord solo. There was a gap in the song… They went away and had their tea… I wrote something like a Bach invention, and played it, then recorded it… They said, “That’s fantastic. We don’t need more. That’s it.” Later on, when we came to do the middle of ‘Michelle’, I actually wrote that.”

    In the works was a Beach Boy album to top the Beatles. Like other rare works of art that also qualify as creations of the soul, the impression looking in at Brian Wilson’s soul is deep and enduring, a claim never really made for Beatle music—as admitted by John Lennon. The Beatles’ recorded music was often exciting and sometimes even brightly toned, but always seemed infused, at its core, with the inhibitions of Englishmen.

    ANYONE WITH A REASONABLE KNOWLEDGE OF Beach Boys music sees Pet Sounds, far from a one-off, as a natural development of a thematic tone obvious from the time of Beach Boys Today and apparent in Brian Wilson’s work from starting recording four years before in ‘Surfer Girl’, ‘Lonely Sea’, ‘In My Room’… Now in Pet Sounds he gave his music an orchestral setting—beautiful and moreover lending it a certain snob appeal that impressed culture vultures who wouldn’t have bothered otherwise with such an obviously suburban figure.

    In what the world construed as a sudden shift, Brian, left alone in the studio for once, was creating a personal masterpiece, honed to perfection without the pressure of others looking over his shoulder. But the legend that Pet Sounds is the one album on which the Beach Boys played not a single note is not quite right. After the band returned from their Japanese tour they got together on ‘That’s Not Me’ with Carl, Dennis and Brian (organ) all playing. Brian as ever played bandleader and choir master on all tracks. Since summer 1963 he had employed the best musicians available, whether in the group or not. His second group still featured Hal Blaine on drums, Glen Campbell (guitar/banjo), Carol Kaye (bass) and other regulars from LA’s “Wrecking Crew” as well as legendary black saxophonist Plas Johnson. Now symphonic players too were collected for their technical expertise and compliance to Brian’s instructions, not for creativity. He cajoled all into a cohesive ensemble interpreting his most subtle nuances of tone, as the Beach Boys themselves had become used to.

    No wonder the touring band was nonplussed. Said UK bible Melody Maker, “It was immediately obvious that Brian had travelled further than anyone in popular music, extended its scope beyond a fantasist’s wildest dreams. Pet Sounds was a massive elaboration on the more interesting aspects of his earlier work; the harmonies were denser, structured in myriad layers, achingly lush, yet pure… It was the arrangements that blew minds. Brian had used a bewildering array of resources, more than Spector and the equally iconoclastic Burt Bacharach combined.” To celebrate it, unselfishly, Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham took out a full-page ad urging people to buy it.

    Its perfection is not the studio sanitisation of recent decades, interpreted as ‘technical perfection’ by today’s critics: Brian’s commands to instrumentalists (“Drums!”) are audible in places. While the composition phase has an inevitability about its sequence of notes, as has been said about Beethoven—unlike the Beatles, renowned for their quirky twists—it still fills repeat listeners with surprise and delight. One gets a similar sense about The Who’s sixties hits—maybe related to Pete Townshend’s early affinity with recording technology. It has become a truism about Beach Boys music (and for different reasons the electronic tracks of the Beatles), that much of it is difficult if not impossible for other musicians, no matter how skilled, to reproduce never mind interpret.

    The piece de resistance is that exactly the right instruments are chosen for each passage no matter how unconventional, e.g. the Japanese koto. What is played and how it is played is so right. As has been told so often, one can picture Brian going to each musician and showing him or her how to play to elicit just the right strain of emotion; and his vocalists—the Beach Boys—the same. Still, from the bewildering jumble that is the Pet Sounds Sessions it is impossible to see how a coherent work is finally delivered, never mind the unquestioned masterpiece it is. We can only stand back and marvel at the creative process of mind and heart that results in the finished work.

    The supreme test of Wilson’s achievement as a pure composer is that the two instrumentals, originally intended to have lyrics, stand as wholly finished works and lack for nothing—a testament to wordless poetry, pure music unadulterated by any other consideration like ‘profundity’ of lyrics. In Q magazine’s September 2004 roundup ‘Pet Sounds’ was judged among the fifty greatest instrumentals of all (‘God Only Knows’ ditto in the ballad section).

    From left: Bruce Johnston, Brian Wilson, Al Jardine, Dennis Wilson

    From left: Bruce Johnston, Brian Wilson, Al Jardine, Dennis Wilson

    As has been remarked on by many critics, perhaps coming new to Beach Boys music, the harmonies move in striking counterpoint as on the a capella break in the middle of ‘Sloop John B’, throughout ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’ and in the cyclical end of ‘God Only Knows’. But what most appreciators of the new music have found most impressive had always been there—Brian’s own transcendently expressive vocals for ‘Caroline No’, ‘I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times’, ‘You Still Believe in Me’…. In Europe it was fully appreciated for its startling emotional/artistic impact as an integrated whole which springs from every track.

    RECORDING CONTINUED AT A SANITY-SAPPING PACE that had delivered five album-length projects in a 14-month span. Party was according to some sources their fastest-selling yet but was never awarded Gold. Over that winter the young advertising agency jingle-meister Tony Asher had observed Brian at home every day—the better to devise figure-fitting lyrics for his songs. Not least of Brian’s abilities was in choosing a lyricist to work most perfectly toward his current aim: Gary Usher or Roger Christian for technical-teen appeal; Mike Love for the telling cultural image; on occasions his brothers, frequently himself.

    The ‘adult’ lyrics Brian chose from Asher—which superficial observers have hailed as the big advance over Brian’s previous songs—can be put down to the advertising profession wordsmith. Hardly passionate, they are more adult in a certain sense, meaning more of the ‘grown-up’, corporate world, but (mostly) they are non-intimate, even impersonal: They are not the kind of sentences a man would actually say to a lover, at least not one he is close to; rather the politically corrected, gender-sanitised kind from a counselling session or Oprah/Dr Phil tv show:

    “I know perfectly well I’m not where I should be/ I’ve been very aware you’ve been patient with me/ Every time we break up you bring back your love to me/ And after all I’ve done to you—how can it be?—You still believe in me…”

    Since when has passionless prose been a criterion to judge a work of art? Compare it with Brian’s usual confessional, conversational style, say in ‘Let Him Run Wild’:

    Brian’s falsetto:

    “When I watched you walk with him tears filled my eyes/
    And when I heard you talk with him I couldn’t stand his lies/
    And now, before he tries it, I hope you realise it [girl!] /
    Let him run wild—he don’t care, Let him run wild—he’ll find out, Let him run wild—he don’t care. Guess you know I…

    Mike’s bass voice insert: … waited for you, girl.

    Brian’s falsetto resumes:

    All the dreams you shared with him you might as well forget/
    I know you need a truer love and that’s what you’ll get/
    And now that you don’t need him, well he can have his freedom [girl!] Let him run wild…”

    Statements on the world in general or personal expression? In this way he did emulate Bob Dylan, and the Beatles, who had recently switched from personal-pronouned—if not exactly personal—to pontificating lyrics (‘We Can Work It Out’, ‘Nowhere Man’). It might be politics but is it art?

    For four years so far the street-savvy influence of Mike Love’s lyrics in the Beach Boys’ rock’n’roll had brought out the group’s broad commercial appeal, while the emotional B-sides had come direct from Brian’s soul.

    Mike Love, early '66

    Mike Love, early '66

    Mike drove the group’s hit status; Brian’s overall creative command dictated that he push boundaries, whether the results were saleable to a mass public or not.

    Capitol saw it differently. Having just had huge world hits with upbeat treatments of ‘Barbara Ann’ and ‘Sloop John B’—still approaching its sales peak in Europe as Pet Sounds went to the presses—it wasn’t about to go with a downer: an entire album exploring Brian Wilson’s fragile soul, no matter how deep. Here was a man more capable than anyone else in pop music of expressing his emotions directly through music—and “They just didn’t get it” (Bruce Johnston). Even many admirers including this writer had to take a couple of steps back on first hearing the album, such was its advance over everything else in pop. From the Beatles, Capitol had received a nonstop string of tunes everyone could sing along to, and now they were deemed to be important too. Why couldn’t this boy genius produce the same? His avowed philosophy, “I’ve never written one note or one word of music simply because I think it will make money” was hardly in accord with the label’s fiscal ambitions. Repeatedly summoned to Capitol Tower in Hollywood to please explain, at the last meeting Brian attended he refused to utter a word and instead played to the executives prepared tape loops of “Yes”, “No”, “No comment”, “Can you repeat that?” and other potted answers.

    They initially flatly refused to release the album, and only relented when Brian threatened never to make another record for them. A compromise was reached—inclusion of the out-of-place ‘Sloop John B’, though its adventurous arrangement and sound meshes in with the original material. Obviously, having zero confidence in the album—an attitude borne out by the execs’ fatally compromised ‘promotion’ of it—Capitol sought to salvage a few sales through the hit at no extra expense. The label committed money to the first of the Best of the Beach Boys series. Capitol’s denial of the new music—misleading the public by highlighting the hit—was a crisis for the group. The Beach Boys’ business partner was effectively sidelining them by refusing to build a wider audience, so favoring the Beatles in their ongoing contest.

    Brian acceded against his better judgment, only to be double-crossed by Capitol, pushing heavily the compilation mostly made up of songs from 1963—a planet light-years away from where the group was now. Five weeks after making Billboard, July 2nd, Pet Sounds hit #10. The label issued Best of the Beach Boys three days later and the masterpiece went no further, clinging on two more months top twenty. Five days after the compilation, in accord with its back-to-the-future mentality, Capitol reissued an anachronistic ‘Help Me Rhonda’/‘Do You Wanna Dance?’ double one week ahead of the should-have-been showcased ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice’/ ‘God Only Knows’ from the new album. Having put off the real double for so long, this left a yawning gap of two months with no Beach Boy single on the charts, and the favored Best of… inevitably overshadowing the new material left without a single to promote it (and vice versa).

    In what would be a coincidence only to a blind optimist, Brian’s third major nervous breakdown struck him soon after release of Pet Sounds, sensing what was in store. The question has to be asked, What was in their corporate mind, if anything? If the label was compos mentis the stakes must have been high to warrant pulling the rug out from such an important act—at potentially a substantial loss of profit. Was it a business write-off as far as Capitol was concerned? Better to stick to promoting the mod quirkiness of the Beatles, reissues of classic fifties Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, and early-sixties Beach Boys, with their assured, predictable markets?

    Mike Love, in retrospect (1975): “Pet Sounds in 1966 was the climax of our new group awareness of more positive and emotional issues. Capitol wanted Shut Down Vol. 5. They released Pet Sounds but they didn’t promote it very strongly…”. “Mr Positive Thinker” as he called himself had put a ‘positive’ spin on the album.

    THE TOURING GROUP BACK IN FEBRUARY, BRIAN placed their vocals: He had done demos of the lead and harmony parts himself, to such an extent that it was looking like a solo album. The completed ‘Caroline No’ track was released as a solo early March. In the circumstances it probably shocked Capitol as a nice little earner, keeping pace in many markets, flopping nationally once caught up by ‘Sloop’, issued two weeks later. One of the album’s key tracks but lacking a recognisable “Beach Boy” sound or label, it deserved better according to record-buyers in Canada, Chicago, Los Angeles, the Central Valley, upper New York, Salt Lake City, Milwaukee and Billings, Montana—all places where it entered top 20; the ten in San Jose, Orlando, Boston-New England, the Ohio River Valley in Cleveland and Louisville, and in Wisconsin, where it was broadcast hundreds of miles from clear channel station WSPT, Stevens Pt. Again New York City—where the song was listed at #57 by WMCA—had the casting vote over what America liked and didn’t like.

    Brian’s voice came through too on ‘Sloop’ (reproduced by Al or Carl in concerts); Carl handled ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’, Mike subsidiary verses or the bridge on each. Brian’s original vocal of ‘God Only Knows’ was excellent but Carl made a classic of it. Of the rest, ‘Here Today’ (a UK cover hit, and in San Bernardino), ‘You Still Believe in Me’, and ‘I Just Wasn’t Made for These Times’ appeared on compilations, growing familiar to a broader public. The instrumentals and four other tracks by no means suffer for their lack of fame: ‘Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)’, Brian emoting in similar fashion to ‘You Still Believe in Me’ and perhaps not often reissued for that sole reason; his ‘Hang On to Your Ego’ substituted by Al to better effect as ‘I Know There’s an Answer’; dynamic ‘I’m Waiting for the Day’ (Brian again), alternately gentle and commanding with its kettle drums; and ‘That’s Not Me’ (Mike), probably the least commercial song—but with Brian, Carl and Dennis accompanying making it special.

    Listened to today the most spectacular rock treatments on the album, ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’ and ‘Sloop John B’, sound every bit as overtly exciting as Rolling Stones rockers. In fact there is an unmistakable kinship arising from this album. Disregarding the Beach Boys’ harmonies, which anyway sound nothing like their usual Four Freshmen-influenced style (on ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’ Brian took six months to get the harmonies to his liking, so exacting had become his aural vision), they and the Stones almost meet in their sheer force of vocal and instrumental drive. Given juxtaposed listening the resemblances seem obvious, posing the likelihood of influence of passages from ‘Here Today’ on ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’, or ‘Pet Sounds’ on ‘Honky Tonk Women’. Certainly, the chording and pacing similarity between the later ‘Wild Honey’ and ‘Street Fighting Man’ are striking.

    While the Beatles fought it out with the Stones in whipping up fans’ adrenaline they looked elsewhere for their music model—continually. In the early days it had been Lonnie Donegan, Elvis Presley, the Everly Bros; by 1963 Carole King, Motown and unnamed “current Americans” obviously including the Beach Boys and probably (judging from results) Burt Bacharach; the following year Bob Dylan. From spring 1966, when John Lennon and Paul McCartney, at Andrew Oldham’s residence, listened and relistened to the acetate recording of Pet Sounds brought from America by Lou Adler, the most apparent direct influence on them—apart from the ever-present Music Hall tradition—is the Beach Boys. From testimony by Paul McCartney and others who knew the Beatles well, and from internal evidence, they drew on Beach Boy material from 1965, from Pet Sounds and from Wild Honey. In McCartney (1998) Paul’s mid-Sixties associate Barry Miles, confirmed by Beatle producer George Martin, says they saw the Beach Boys as their creative rivals: “The real contender was always Brian Wilson… He had managed to reach the top several times in charts dominated by British Invasion groups but commercial success was not his main interest, though it was for the other Beach Boys.” Miles does not draw the conclusion nearly far enough. McCartney has for forty years called ‘God Only Knows’ the greatest song ever written, and he spent four of those years trying to emulate it.

    Brian’s bass guitar roots specifically brought effusive compliments from Pete Townshend and McCartney: “Pet Sounds blew me away. It’s still one of my favorite albums. When I first heard it, I thought, ‘Wow, this is the greatest record of all time!’ Brian took the bass into very unusual places. The band would play in C, and Brian would stay in G. That kind of thing. It gave me great ideas. That musical invention of Brian Wilson was eye-opening, I mean, ear-opening” (from Pritchard & Lysaght, 1998). In Miles’ biography, McCartney expresses a kinship with Wilson as a fellow writer of melodic bass lines, and waxes mystical citing him, himself and James Jamerson of Motown as the apex points of a geographical triangle (LA-London-Detroit) of influential bass-players. Father Murry, too, praised his son’s bass lines and betrayed fatherly pride in speaking of Brian’s “beautiful approach to rock’n’roll”, impressed that he had come some way from rock’n’roll to his own preference for “good music”—orchestrated.

    McCartney credited Pet Sounds as the inspiration for his Sgt Peppers—by which time the Beach Boys, or at least Brian Wilson, had pulled further ahead. Others who are said to have called it the best album ever range from Elton John to Tom Petty; and citing it as a major influence: New York City’s pioneer of proto-Punk Lou Reed, Sonic Youth, and English favorites Oasis—often called the Nineties’ echo of the Beatles.

    Britain was in spring 1966 just catching up on the Beach Boy catalog. Party, with a timely release for once, exited top ten in April as Today (a year late) entered. It is no surprise that, asked a week after Pet Sounds‘ US release in May, British EMI said it had “no plans” for it. It was sheer public pressure that brought the far-advanced, much-feared album into EMI’s plans. On grudging release in early July Pet Sounds, followed into top ten a week later by Summer Days, did all but reach the very top to the company’s shock. It seems the UK headquarters had no more insight into (or interest in) great, truly innovative music than its American subsidiary. Three decades later it was voted by a panel of international critics assembled by The Times of London as the best album of the rock era, heading off Sgt Peppers. Another belated British accolade was an assessment by New Musical Express (October 2nd 1993) as “Greatest Album of All Time”. As a satisfying double, upcoming ‘Good Vibrations’ would be dubbed by Mojo magazine (1997) “Greatest Single of All Time” heading a list of a hundred. But in May ’66 when it counted, British EMI’s belief in the Beach Boys’ new music, if not a negative entity, was close to zero.

    The touring group at a Capitol reception, early '66: From left, Carl Wilson, Bruce Johnston, Al Jardine, Mike Love, Dennis Wilson

    The touring group at a Capitol reception, early '66: From left, Carl Wilson, Bruce Johnston, Al Jardine, Mike Love, Dennis Wilson

    In the States it was a steady mover, taking a year to sell Gold. Number one featured album at WLS, Chicago’s premier top 40 station, nationally it peaked on average only one or two chart places short of the Beach Boy albums immediately before and after; in Japan, the next biggest market, it did better than them. It was easily their most successful studio album ever in the UK: six months top ten. At the end of the year all the anti propaganda should have been put to bed by Cash Box’s roundup of 1966’s Top 100 Albums: 13th best-selling pop/rock album behind “Best of” compilations from Herman’s Hermits, the Animals and Stones, the Mamas & the Papas, Rubber Soul (5th), the Stones’ Aftermath, Out of Our Heads, December’s Children; four places ahead of Revolver, six ahead of Beach Boys Party and further back to Simon & Garfunkel’s Sounds of Silence, The Young Rascals, the Byrds’ Turn! Turn! Turn! and Lovin’ Spoonful’s Daydream. The leading albums of the Supremes, Four Seasons and Sonny & Cher were nowhere. But the story put about of the failure of new Beach Boy music—almost willed by British EMI and Capitol—simplified the choice between them and the two-forked Brit attack.

    Capitol would continue to divert attention from the group’s groundbreaking, Beatle-influencing music. In spite of all, ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’/‘God Only Knows’ turned out one of the summer’s two premier double-sided hits, outdone commercially by the Beatles’ ‘Yellow Submarine’/‘Eleanor Rigby’. Both peaked in late August, the Fabs keeping the Beach Boys’ ‘God Only Knows’ out of the number one spot in the UK sales chart. The same happened between the two groups’ current albums.

    ON APRIL 6TH AS ‘CAROLINE’ AND ‘SLOOP’ MADE strides up local charts the Beatles had begun work on Revolver, the album that continued the public eclipsing of the Beach Boys. The Fabs had unstoppable career momentum and it made sense when George Martin assigned novice engineer Geoff Emerick to take charge of sound. In the direction Beatles Inc was going it took an inexperienced whizzkid coming in fresh who could devise evermore contrived sounds to include on some of their upcoming albums.

    George Martin: “With the new sounds on Revolver it was basically an attempt to get more colour into our records. I mean, The Beatles were always looking for new sounds… They didn’t know much about instruments, though, which put pressure on me. They needed someone to translate for them. I was there…”

    Donovan Leitch: “That was the breakup really with The Beatles, I think. Because Paul is so creative… Paul needed, at that time, somebody like me, who could sit around and jam with him. The Beatles didn’t jam at that time. They made records” (both quotes from Pritchard & Lysaght).

    It was at the end of summer 1966, three weeks after Revolver appeared—with their last concert at Candlestick Park, San Francisco—that the Beatles decided they had just done their last tour. Fourteen dates in eighteen days hardly added up to a demanding schedule, especially given their rather perfunctory 30-minute concerts—the idea was just to see the Beatles and scream your hardest—but they were exhausted and highly stressed by events unrelated to entertainment. The target of death threats from Japanese traditionalists, hounded out of the Philippines for offending ruling family the Marcoses, in America made to publicly answer for John Lennon’s remark that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus: these were among the personal depths they had plumbed in the previous weeks that decided them.

    Paradoxically, given the bad press later directed at McCartney for breaking up the Beatles, it was George Harrison who, in his first relaxed moment after the Candlestick concert, declared: “I’m not a Beatle anymore!” According to Beatle publicist Tony Barrow it was Harrison and Lennon who were most vehement against them ever becoming a genuine, performing band again. Brian Epstein, who had made looking after the Beatles his life—and would die within a year of dejection and neglect—knew better than to ever suggest it to them. Such was his state through drugs that he was no longer handling their affairs with his customary aplomb. It was not long, in November, that John and Paul on Mick Jagger’s recommendation were seeking out accountant-to-the-rock-stars Allen Klein, wanting him to renegotiate the measly returns on their EMI contract.

    Paul embarked on the first Beatle solo project, writing the soundtrack for a Hayley Mills film, The Family Way; and by the end of 1966 George had made a spiritual pilgrimage to India to meet the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi of TM fame and learn sitar from Ravi Shankar; and Lennon met self-described avant garde Paris-based Japanese artist Yoko Ono. It was the beginning of a great deal of free time — extending through the remains of their career — with little of genuinely outstanding quality turning up on vinyl. One well-coordinated group project was to grow Zapata moustaches, seen in recent ‘spaghetti’ Westerns.

    ROCK MUSIC — BEACH BOYS JOIN CAPITOL RECORDS, MAY 1962

    In celebrity, history, music on February 11, 2008 at 10:40 am

    Excerpt #3 from BEACH BOYS vs BEATLEMANIA: Rediscovering Sixties Music by G. A. De Forest, published by Booklocker.com and available for around $19.95 from Amazon, Borders, Books-a-Million, Barnes & Noble or any other of your favorite Internet stops

    Sales peak thus far: #23 on Amazon.com’s hot 100 Music History & Criticism books, April 26th 2008

    Early Capitol publicity shot of the Beach Boys, May 1962

    Early Capitol publicity shot of the Beach Boys, May 1962. Top row, from left, Brian Wilson, Mike Love; bottom row from left, Carl Wilson, Dave Marks, Dennis Wilson.

    Problem #1: According to Nick Venet (in Tom Nolan, 1972), as the company wallahs celebrated their twentieth anniversary in Hollywood, he was at this time the only one of Capitol’s management aged under 62; the others are therefore older than Bing Crosby, Capitol’s most famous client among a roster of legends but now retired golfing at Palm Springs. Among numerous investments that would make him almost as rich as his pal Bob Hope, he went into tv production (Hogan’s Heroes).

    From the current generation, just to get on the rock’n’roll bandwagon, scouting and auditioning of hundreds of prospects in 1956 had netted Gene Vincent & his Blue Caps. But Gene was long gone to the UK where he was hero-worshipped, and had not been replaced—unless the pretend “rock and roll” of Tommy Sands counted (‘Teenage Crush’, 1957). LA’s top r&b performer, Johnny Otis (‘Willie and the Hand Jive’, 1958), had trouble crossing over to the pop market. Country chanteuse Wanda Jackson remodelled herself into a rock’n’roller—‘Let’s Have a Party’—and added young glamor to the Capitol lineup through the sixties. While replicating the gruffer side of Brenda Lee she never managed top twenty, switching back to country and still releasing on Capitol into the seventies.

    So, far removed from the priorities of youth, tuned out from rock music and the special requirements of the Beach Boys, Capitol bosses were heavily committed to a mature market for such prestigious ‘young’ artists in their portfolio as Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Nat ‘King’ Cole—all just one generation adrift in their mid-forties—and the spritely Al Martino, 35, ten years later awarded a comeback in The Godfather by Marlon Brando making an offer that couldn’t be refused. Capitol’s jazz greats Judy Garland and Peggy Lee were entering middle age and still popular with the veteran audience but, established for more than twenty years, could hardly be called promising prospects. There was nothing the Beach Boys could do apart from Murry’s constant cajoling to get the company’s attention, short of severing the head off Bing’s putter for some big shot’s bed.

    It must have been all these seniors could do to pretend any kind of empathy even with the straight, collegiate-style Four Freshmen & Preps and Lettermen already on Capitol’s books.

    The Kingston Trio, c.1961

    The Kingston Trio, c.1961

    What relationship they could find with their most popular young incumbents is anyone’s guess: folk group the Kingston Trio, prone to left-wingish social statements in the tradition of Woody Guthrie, the Weavers and other proletarian, people’s troubadours—of whom Peter, Paul & Mary were the latest, but on Warner Bros. The Kingstons—hailing from Hawaii and Southern California but named after Jamaica’s capital of Calypso Folk—had in the spring just past celebrated their biggest hit in three years, ‘Where Have All the Flowers Gone?’—and would have three top forty hits in 1963 plucked from popular albums.

    Bing, the most successful recording star of the quarter-century from 1930, and the biggest box-office star in movies through the middle of that period, had come to Capitol when his hit-making days were over, other than drives, chips and putts; he would die on a golf course in Spain. Lowlights he had to look forward to in 1962 were a return of his ‘White Christmas’, which had sold 30 million—but on Decca—and a minor Xmas outing next year for Capitol, ‘Do You Hear What I Hear?’, much later remade by Mike Love in solo career.

    But, as Capitol would advertise on the dust-slips of Beach Boy albums through the Sixties, Bing remained one of the label’s prides along with acts as diverse as recently deceased thespian Charles Laughton, operetta show-tune belter Gordon McRae, Pasadena parodier Stan Freberg, Soul crooner Lou Rawls, black and soulful Nancy Wilson and Ketty Lester, jazzman Cannonball Adderley, country & western stars Sonny James and Buck Owens, and the orchestra of Carmen Dragon, musical director at the Hollywood Bowl and father of Daryl Dragon, later to feature prominently as a session man for the group, a collaborator with Dennis Wilson and the husband and Captain of Tennille.

    In other words, the Beach Boys were not exactly the single-minded focus of this major label that wanted to be all things to all listeners. Capitol tended to poach established stars, and many former staffers from the sixties have been scathing about the company’s lack of insight in picking quality in new performers. As one put it, as one might expect from a company represented by Bozo the Clown, “They threw stuff at the wall to see what would stick.” New York vocal group the Tokens, coming from their one huge hit, were hired by Capitol early in 1962 as producers on a one-year contract. Learning to produce as they went along, all ten demo recordings they submitted were rejected including the last, a lively r&b number which they got the Chiffons to record independently on Laurie. Having been knocked back on this song by other labels, a simple rejection letter wasn’t enough for Capitol and the Tokens were treated to a full description by Voyle Gilmore memo of just “how bad it stunk”, according to Token Phil Margo who played drums on the record. ‘He’s So Fine’ became the most durable no.1 of 1963, and copying the melody for ‘My Sweet Lord’ landed Beatle George Harrison in trouble years later.

    Of the middle-agers Frank Sinatra had recently founded his own label, Reprise, breaking out of a long fallow period that wasn’t bringing many residual sales for Capitol. “Old Blue Eyes”‘s bestselling albums from the fifties, including Come Fly With Me, would wait for a new millennium to be certified gold. Hollywood-Las Vegas “Rat Pack” buddy Dean Martin followed him from Capitol. Near-namesake Martino stayed a company man sharing in the middle-aged market: ‘I Love You Because’, ‘I Love You More Everyday’, ‘Spanish Eyes’, ‘Mary in the Morning’—as did Cole: ‘Ramblin’ Rose’, ‘Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer’, until cut down by cancer early in ’65.

    None—young, old or in between—could live in the same ballpark as the Beach Boys: rookies of the year promising a third-base hit every time up at bat, thickly peppered with high-flying homers. The softening of the way for later rock groups arriving at Capitol—including the Beatles—might be jotted under “Beach Boys: runs batted in”. Capitol’s runner-up harmony act, the Lettermen, whose pristine but low-energy sound was already spacing their top 40 hits out three years apart, couldn’t compete. The Four Preps, popular on campuses for their satirical revues, had started strong with the almost rock’n’roll “I was a ‘Big Man’ yesterday—but boy you oughtta see me now” amid gentler fare. Now they were noted for satirical parodies ‘The Big Draft’, and to come, ‘A Letter to the Beatles’.

    From the day they signed it was obvious (if only to Nick Venet at Capitol) that the Beach Boys would be the most important thing to happen to the company for the foreseeable future—i.e. over the next year or so. He disdained their youthful cockiness though only 23 himself, and at the time even he doubted their durability. But Capitol had nothing to lose and everything to gain by going all out on the group. It didn’t happen that way.

    bobby-darin[Bobby Darin: Mr Cool of 1962 and supposed successor to Frank Sinatra]

    BOBBY DARIN, ROCK’N’ROLLER THROUGH ‘SPLISH SPLASH’ and ‘Queen of the Hop’, switching to crown prince of the teen idols with ‘Dream Lover’, had restyled himself as a junior Sinatra by redoing classics ‘Mack the Knife’, ‘Beyond the Sea’ and ‘Up the Lazy River’ in a swept-up jazz style, not even the so-called rock and roll beloved of teenieboppers. In late summer ’62 came his biggest hit for some time, the self-penned (“Thinkin’ about”) ‘Things’, and Capitol lured him from the home of Drifters/Coasters r&b, up-and-coming Atlantic where creative conditions were right to make all Darin’s hits. Capitol must have suspected they didn’t have the producing scope to match Atlantic and his star dimmed within a year. The time and energy they spent on Bobby went to waste though Venet, seeing the Beach Boys handle themselves in the studio, relished his time in New York recording him. Bobby would return to Atlantic when it had grown into a major. For the burgeoning career of the Beach Boys it meant just one more distraction for their new record label that they couldn’t afford.

    Hard up against Motown, girl groups, the Beach Boys and Four Seasons, the time for crooners was over. They were slow to get the message from young record buyers, insulated by continuing high play by radio stations as a hopeful alternative to rock’n’roll. Yet by late 1962 Fifties survivors Pat Boone and Paul Anka disappeared from even Billboard’s top twenty, Darin following in another six months—the most youthful, Ricky Nelson, reprieved for a further semester.

    There would be little recognition from the management of the fact that within a year of the group joining Capitol the company was boosted from lowly eighth place to second in singles sales figures (Murry Wilson in Tom Nolan). 1963 would see it overtake such industry giants as RCA, Decca, Philips, Mercury, Warners and ABC-Paramount and drive clear of hungry youth specialists Atlantic, Motown, Cameo-Parkway and Philles—thanks to the Beach Boys’ seven songs in and around Billboard’s top twenty that year: exactly half of Capitol’s biggest hits.

    The prior claims of the sedate, white vocal quartets signed by Gilmore and Venet (who had to sneak even the unchallenging Lettermen in through the back door) explains why Capitol repeatedly through the Sixties attempted to tone down the Beach Boys’ rock sound—by eliminating the instrumental grunt from the group’s recordings by electronic processing, sanitising them into pale reissues, resembling as far as practicable the old-styled groups’ mannered, almost monastic harmonies. In early ’63 Brian went in tears to Murry, complaining, “They’re changing our sound.”: a situation not wholly remedied by ‘going independent’ in the middle of that year; Capitol still owned the master tapes. It was the opposite of what they did for the Beatles, beefing up the volume and other rock-enhancing effects. Listeners always had to tweak up the volume knob on a gramophone to even hear the Beach Boys. Aside from consistently castrating the drums and bass, and boosting the treble-scale giving them an anaemic ‘whitebread’ taint, the most notorious specific example of wanton interference has to be hacking off the ending, the climax, of ‘Fun Fun Fun’ as heard on the Brian Wilson-produced single— Brian’s wailing falsetto refrain backed up by Dennis’s thumping-good drum flourishes: mindlessly deleted and not restored until the 1990s.
    If not exactly cultural vandalism ranking with drawing a moustache on the Mona Lisa, such interference in an artist’s work can hardly have had a parallel since the Renaissance. Did 18th Century sheet music salesmen ‘improve on’ Haydn or Mozart scores for publication? The attitude would worsen—undoubtedly a factor in the Beach Boys being written off in many circles as lightweights: a speeded-up version of the insipid offerings that proved readily acceptable to Middle America from Capitol’s college glee club foursomes. But, come to that, they were white, with whatever advantages (and later disadvantages) that brought.

    ROCK MUSIC — Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: SURFIN’ US/K

    In celebrity, generational/fashion, history, music, politics, television on February 10, 2008 at 1:04 am

    Excerpt #2 from BEACH BOYS vs BEATLEMANIA: Rediscovering Sixties Musicby G. A. De Forest, published by Booklocker.com and available for around $19.95 from Amazon, Borders, Books-a-Million, Barnes & Noble or any other of your favorite Internet stops

    Sales peak thus far: #23 on Amazon.com’s hot 100 Music History & Criticism books, April 26th 2008


    In 1965 the world was looking scary — and not only because the most inane warblings of the British Invasion looked like they were here to stay. Twenty years after the end of WWII it turned out that old tensions and seething enmities between cultures had only been swapped for new ones. The USSR, China, and satellites Eastern Europe, Cuba, North Korea and North Vietnam lined up against The West. In January, Britain’s Winston Churchill, savior of western democracy and hawk of the Cold War, died. Khruschev of the USSR had been deposed for not bringing the West to heel though his USA opposite number John F Kennedy was dead a year. In little more than twelve months the three potent figures of the post-War world were gone.

    In February and March two events denied all the brief Kennedy Era stood for. Malcolm X, Black Muslim and leader in the civil rights movement, was murdered, spurring race riots in the Watts district of LA. And President Lyndon B Johnson (“Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?”) committed the first combat troops to Vietnam, an undeclared war plaguing the American psyche long past its ten-year duration.

    The Beach Boys, summer of '64, three months before their first UK visit. From left, Carl Wilson, leader Brian Wilson, middle brother Dennis Wilson, cousin Mike Love, and Brian's Hawthorne High School grid iron teammate Al Jardine

    The Beach Boys, summer of '64, three months before their first UK visit. From left, little brother Carl Wilson (lead guitar, vocals), big brother and leader Brian Wilson (bass guitar, keyboards, falsetto harmony and lead vocals), middle brother Dennis Wilson (drums, vocals), cousin Mike Love (lead vocals, occasional saxophone), and Brian's Hawthorne High School grid iron teammate Al Jardine (rhythm guitar, occasional lead vocals)

    The Beach Boys, victims of their idealism, were about to be trapped in a time warp, objects to be vivisected by the fashion police. For a year pop commentators had questioned the reason for being of these stubborn squares who seemed naïvely unaware of all Beatledom had to offer. The Byrds, switching to folk rock and Dylan, still made the effort to look and sound like Beatles; everyone knew they were “America’s answer” to them. It was “in” and “far out” to conform to the new ‘Counterculture’.

    Dennis had gone some way toward beatlesque, hair-wise, in summer ’64; a year later the others were looking fluffier too, if not longer, yet. Mike grew a neatly trimmed beard to distract from his thinning hair, lending a ‘Peter, Paul & Mary’ professorial look to the frontman of a group already up against it with ever younger record-buyers. In November 1966 for their Good Vibrations tour of the UK the eldest Beach Boy — months younger than Ringo Starr and John Lennon — would go the whole hog for the Oxford don look, posing for group publicity stills dressed eccentrically in British tweed, country gentleman’s cap and holding a pipe. Brian (to be replaced in spring 1965 by the lean and handsome, if bland, Bruce Johnston for touring) and Carl were unfashionably chubby — and still clean-shaven unlike the bulky turned-on musos of San Francisco psychedelia just emerging, who knew where it was at and let it all hang out: Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead, Bob Hite of Canned Heat…. It was all a clear snub to populism: the Beach Boys would go their own way, in their own time.

    FEBRUARY 15TH 1965 BROUGHT A REALISATION THAT irreplaceable figures had died in the past two months: Sam Cooke, murdered; Alan Freed of a failing spirit; now Nat King Cole of lung cancer. For the Beach Boys the year opened with their first ever shows in Canada — good for a dozen big hits so far, their second expedition into the foreign territory of the British Commonwealth (following Australasia a year before). First came a date at Vancouver, the French city of Montreal, Ottawa and Toronto. Brian, hungry for new experiences, plays all but the last, replaced by Glen Campbell. They will take in the same round of cities again in September, with Bruce Johnston and supported by new stars Sonny & Cher.

    BBstoday On vinyl, from the completed Beach Boys Today, a new 45 is lifted that fatal February day. On top of a wall of sound but in a flourish of driving, modernized rock, is their rebirth of ‘Do You Wanna Dance?’ both spirited and lush — so maybe too American. Dennis’s sole solo hit, it’s the top debut in the Nashville top 40; streaks fifteen places into the St Louis ten to quench a nine-month drought there; L C Cooke, brother of Sam, rushes out an alternative version that hits the St Louis r&b chart. In the Midwest’s Chicagoland, Milwaukee, Twin Cities, Cincinnati, the Southwest’s Dallas, Phoenix, Tulsa and the Eastern Seaboard’s Washington DC, Baltimore, New England, Newark, Hartford, it is top five with West Coast markets Seattle, Portland, San Jose, San Diego — though here sales are split with its B-side (haunting ballad ‘Please let Me Wonder’); #6 in the South’s St Louis, Memphis, Norfolk, Richmond; lower top ten Montreal, San Francisco, Vancouver, Kansas City. Taking off the gloss are below par receptions just outside in Philadelphia, New York (best at WINS, #12-13, its level in the major national hit parades), Miami and Toronto; and languishing lower top 20 on the playlists at influential stations in Detroit, Houston, Pittsburgh and hometown LA (where it nonetheless peeks in at #6 at local stations in Van Nuys and San Bernardino). Elevated to no.5 in the ShowTime chart distributed to newspapers nationwide, additionally no.8 by United Press International, and no.9 by Gilbert’s youth survey for the Associated Press, mainstream in the leading trade papers (Billboard, Cash Box, Variety) it is no threat to Herman’s Hermits and Freddie & the Dreamers with their red carpet treatment from the media and squatting pampered in the Brit penthouse hosted by the Yanks. The current WABC-New York sales survey, covering the USA’s biggest market, lists Brit acts taking 11 of the top 16 tunes.

    In the UK it wasn’t released (‘All Summer Long’ was — later celebrated by George Lucas at the end credits of his American Graffiti but a joke in terms of the hard tack Brits expected from groups at the time), maybe because EMI feared it could take long-term sales from its Cliff Richard & the Shadows’ 45. Following as it did their recent European tour, ‘Do You Wanna Dance?’ should have reinstated them on the Continent, which had given the previous two singles the silent treatment. While it was bought in loyal Scandinavia and played in Italy, it was invisible in Germany, France, Holland and now Australia too, preoccupied with all things Fab.

    ‘Please Let Me Wonder’ went to #1 as the chosen ‘A’ in San Jose and San Bernardino; #3 in Chicago, Seattle and upstate New York; similarly top five in Phoenix, Salt Lake City and Sacramento; top ten Philadelphia, San Francisco, Houston, San Diego, Milwaukee, Columbus, Hartford, Fresno; Los Angeles, Detroit, Miami, San Antonio, Denver, Vancouver, Buffalo the twenty. It drove to no.9 separately in the Associated Press chart a week before its designated A-side but stalled halfway up the two big charts’ top hundreds, though rising to no.32 in Variety. It is a favorite on compilation albums and retrospective videos.

    April 21st they played both sides on Shindig, ‘Help Me Rhonda’ just released and pocket jams of ‘Fun Fun Fun’ and ‘Long Tall Texan’, demolishing English guests Wayne Fontana & the Mindbenders and Cilla Black, producer Jack Good still plugging his countrymen and women though as many would come unstuck as stick; no.1 Italian songstress Rita Pavone also ran. They met up too on set with the Shangri-Las and the Ikettes—from that first bill over three years before.

    Both hits were — happily — out of sync with prevailing (lack of) taste, which saw what was already a year-long lapse accelerate into a headlong dive. The public was forcefed the silliest pop ditties yet, Top 40 stations now programmed via remote control by bosses in the biggest cities at network h.q.s, even star DJs straightjacketed from injecting local content or personal favorites. Songs masticated into the new chew for a few weeks, losing what bland flavor they had. Previously this trend was signalled by the Beatles’ superior ‘And I Love Her’ and somewhat lesser ‘If I Fell’, both lapped up by sentimental moviegoers. The Dave Clark Five jumped at the Beatles’ lead, and made them utterly sickening: ‘Because’, ‘Everybody Knows’ — two glutinous-syrupy ballads vying with Brian Poole & the Tremeloes’ ‘Someone, Someone’ for most nauseating weepie of the era.

    The Beach Boys sustained their fun-loving, exuberant image, seen in a stocktake-of-things-that-matter Carl wrote for Tiger Beat:

    Brian: a Cadillac Eldorado and Mustang

    Dennis: a Ferrari and Cobra

    Mike, the real collector: a Pontiac MG, Jaguar and Classic MG

    Carl: an Aston Martin (James Bond style), Triumph 500 motorbike

    Al, ever sensible: a lone T-Bird, as featured in ‘Fun Fun Fun’

    The Beach Boys posing with their muscle cars a year before in early '64, the Beatles about to arrive (as can be seen by Brian's experimental hairstyle): From left, Brian Wilson, Al Jardine, Dennis Wilson, Carl Wilson, Mike Love

    The Beach Boys posing with their muscle cars a year before in early '64, the Beatles about to arrive (as can be seen by Brian's experimental hairstyle): From left, Brian Wilson, Al Jardine, Dennis Wilson, Carl Wilson, Mike Love

    By now the three Wilson brothers had bought their own homes on the outskirts of Hollywood. Mike and Al stayed close to home at Manhattan Beach. A roll call of Dennis’s pets told much of the elemental Beach Boy: two (wild, freedom-loving) horses, an otter (at home in water), a parakeet named after mother Audree, a power-dog German Shepherd and ever-present underdog for Dennis to look after — a lost puppy run over outside his house, with a broken leg needing healing. Always a mass of contradictions, supposedly least talented when the group started, he was turning himself into a multi-instrumentalist. The most Beach Boy — runner-up in a Hawaiian surfing tourney, an accomplished danger-skier on hair-raising Rocky Mountain slopes — he was also the most un-Beach Boy, developing a husky, cracked blues voice.

    It was Dennis in full flight who pulled as much mob appeal as a Beatle. Fans would breach the carefully mounted barricades at concerts, and all of the boys had their clothes torn and were taught tactics to escape girls’ clutches — rolling out of the tackle grid-iron style. Dennis, though, sometimes surrounded despite the best game strategies, had several times been literally k.o.’ed by love. In Louisville, Kentucky, coincidentally the home of Muhammed Ali, he required three stitches to his head. When audience reaction was deemed out of hand local police forces used their ultimate power of censorship, cutting the feed to amplifiers or yanking down the stage curtain mid-performance, much to the group’s disgust. In l.p. liner notes Mike remarked on the Cincinnati fans as champion “cop-dodgers” and “Then there’s the helpless feeling of seeing a girl, who maybe spent her last dollar to see us, crying or something, ’cause the cops wouldn’t let her stay and get a Beach Boys autograph.” Unlike the Beatles, the group never had sealed, womblike limos to duck into to separate them from their public, and for less hysterical crowds would often stay behind for hours to sign autographs and chat.

    UNLIKE THEIR HERMETICALLY PROTECTED RIVALS the Beach Boys no doubt felt themselves in the full swim of the Swinging Sixties. Carl named his favorite acts as the Beatles, Four Seasons, Supremes, Manfred Mann and the Animals—in preference over the Rolling Stones. The Stones, he said, showing considerable prescience, would be around as long as they made hits. Brian, in a 1996 interview, said that he and Carl “liked John [Lennon] a lot” — and that he wrote ‘Girl Don’t Tell Me’ as “a kind of tribute to John.” Said at one time to have been intended for the Beatles to record, it was one of Brian’s favorite songs, written on vacation in Hawaii without a piano or guitar: “And it’s the only song I wrote that way.” He had penned ‘Kiss Me Baby’ months before in a Copenhagen hotel room, also without much in the way of composing aids.

    Certain other revelations Brian has made about his lifestyle at this time have shed light on his creative processes: Put simply, take marijuana and sit down at the piano. For The Beach Boys Today!he was experimenting: “The whole second side had been written and arranged while I was high. Compared to previous Beach Boys albums the music was slower, more plaintive, and emotional. The chord patterns were more complex, the production denser, richer in sound, and my thinking in regard to making records was different. Able to break down songs to precise little increments, I began to deal with each instrument individually, stacking sounds one at a time” (BrianWilson.com).

    Three months later in April he took a quantum leap into the drug world with his first experience of LSD. He at first justified this by the fact that it led instantly to the composing of ‘California Girls’. Later, he noticed that it was the beginning of auditory hallucinations—voices talking to him, often threatening ones — and an everworsening fragility of mind. It was about this time too he wrote and recorded its flipside ‘Let Him Run Wild’ in hommage to Burt Bacharach’s renowned chord progressions — and that’s as far as any resemblance goes.

    ROCK MUSIC — Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: “WE LOVE YOU BEATLES, OH YES WE DO!”

    In celebrity, generational/fashion, history, music on February 9, 2008 at 6:16 am

    Excerpt #1 from BEACH BOYS vs BEATLEMANIA: Rediscovering Sixties Music by G. A. De Forest, published by Booklocker.com and available for around $19.95 from Amazon, Borders, Books-a-Million, Barnes & Noble or any other of your favorite Internet stops

    Sales peak thus far: #23 on Amazon.com’s hot 100 Music History & Criticism books (April 26th 2008)


    The Fab Four, mops flourishing by mid 1964

    The Fab Four, mops flourishing by mid 1964

    To be caught up in Beatlemania ’64 was something as exciting as it was indescribable. Imagine Irish music, Riverdance and leprechaun outfits taking over the world—held aloft for everyone else to aspire to: a crude but apt comparison. The Beatle phenomenon has been uncritically celebrated long past the point of drop-dead kicking-the-corpse boredom, so to this day no one has been able to say convincingly what their music had to do with it. But you had to be there—the pop culture ‘happening’ of the mid-Sixties. It was experienced so deeply by many youths it seemed all that was needed to fix the world was immersion in Beatledom so everything would turn “fab”. Harrypottermania is the only phenomenon to compare with it today.

    Tony Barrow, rock journalist and Beatle publicist: “The whole thing changed. The balance of power fell from an average age of 40 to 25 overnight.”

    Derek Taylor, Beatle and later Beach Boy publicist: “We saw them in that sense [of being saviors]. People saw them as being some sort of answer to the miseries of the world or in our own little lives. They were the four-headed Santa Claus.”

    Astrid Kirchherr, designer of the Beatlehair: “My heart just opens up with pride and joy to know I was so lucky to get to know these wonderful people who deserved all this fame and fortune.”

    Astrid Kirchherr: “You could tell Paul really hated [Stuart]” (Salewicz).

    Murray Kaufman (Murray the ‘K’), star DJ and self-proclaimed Fifth Beatle: “To this day when you hear [other superstars] you know it. With every album The Beatles gave us a 180-degree change. A completely different change, a different sound, a different attitude. They kept changing with us. The Beatles inspired a lot of the political and social revolution that took place, because from a subliminal standpoint The Beatles represented change. We saw the Beatles change right in front of our eyes.”

    This habit of the Beatles being diverted every six months sounds alarmingly like a description of one of the Sixties’ most charming and persuasive fakers, Andrew Loog Oldham, by his friend John Douglas: “… a dilettante: though he’d got natural ability, he didn’t stick long with things, because there was always something new to have a crack at.”

    George Martin, who produced all the Beatle records: “In my book The Beatles were the greatest performers and writers ever… They were never satisfied with sticking to one style, one format, one sound… I think I was part of a five-piece group… My particular specialty in the beginning was introductions, endings and solos. The rest of the song was theirs. Later on it [was] the addition of things they hadn’t thought of—all the backward guitar stuff and that kind of thing.”—Excerpts from Pritchard & Lysaght’s The Beatles: an Oral History (1998).

    Note that Martin’s “specialty” was composing beginnings, endings and middles of Beatle songs?! “The rest of the song was theirs”, he adds amusingly. For Martin it all came down to how well crafted the song and the variety of ways they were presented. For Murray the K, how mutable the sound and attitude. Changeability was the common theme. So they might rate above Gilbert & Sullivan in adventurousness but below genuine artists in not having a recognisable style. Picasso changing his Blue Period and succeeding phases every four to six months?—the interval between Beatle albums. Novelty, and reading constantly changing trends— Murray the K: “They kept changing with us””—was their real stock in trade.

    These four Liverpool lads of Irish descent had no small touch of the blarney in their blood: the pixieish wit; the crude, crying-into-your-beer sentiment and, encouraged by Dylan, self-pitying bitterness in layers; and Celtic “animal magnetism”—as ascribed by Brian Wilson to the Britons in general. If the Irish kissed the Blarney Stone for luck the Beatles and their minders must have ravished it full-frontal. Ritualistic mystique was all there staged in the Beatles—the Parisian styled hair, the Gallic cut suits, the Beatle bow in unison from the waist. Even Paul’s intriguing German-made ‘violin’ bass guitar, like no other. Was he dead?—Only true initiates could read the signs. It all assumed titanic significance, like Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter overlapping into real life.

    Clean-cut American Beach Boys as they looked on the arrival of the Beatles, February 1964: didn't stand a chance

    Clean-cut American Beach Boys as they looked on the arrival of the Beatles, February 1964: didn't stand a chance

    They had charm by the bucketful; presence—not the smarm or vacuous additood that passes for it today and is glibly called charisma. To immune observers they were interchangeable mop-tops, but fans knew better: John, the defiant leader with a loose chip on his shoulder, standing at the mike bowlegged gunslinger style; Paul, the smooth, fun-loving pretty boy and the most versatile musically, popping out melodies literally in his sleep—but called “the shrewdest and the toughest” by a teacher who knew them both; George, “the Dark Horse”—only fragments showing above surface, the most “vociferous” at the first meeting with George Martin and the most business minded, but passive-aggressive because dominated by his senior partners, overlooked until his death prompted a gushing media, when his palatial estate showed he had just as massive an ego; Ringo, contributing his personality on drums and off, the best actor in films—seemingly earthbound, living off a suitcase of baked beans on a spiritual exploration of India (the others ate theirs in the studio, scooped from silver service). Starting with no higher ambition than to open a hairdressing salon once the Beatles had struck modest success, ironically he was probably the most spiritual one through his childhood illnesses. But he was painted goofy. Girls liked to mother him for his melancholy. Later, with his head shorn, on his unshaven days he bore an unfortunate resemblance to Yasser Arafat.

    At the start they were so… fluffy—and so saleable. While little girls wanted them as cuddly toys who walked, talked, peed and sang, mature females too fantasized about cuddling up to one or other of them. It wasn’t that the marketing strategy was inspired— just that everyone jumped on the bandwagon at once creating an unstoppable momentum, the more venal devotees grabbing fortunes hand over fist. The worldwide money-go-round was carved up continent by continent by seriously monied men, who made Elvis’s Colonel Tom Parker look like a nickel-and-dime grifter. There were Beatle suits and ties, Beatle shoes, Beatle wigs, even Beatle guitars and drum kits. On their first trip to the US, from their tiny cut of the money generated by their own image the group made more from Beatle bubblegum than from performances.

    Despite their “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 till 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: shaking their hair got their biggest audience reaction, not playing a favorite song—all of their songs were favored. The fans were screaming too loud to care how the music sounded, or if it sounded at all, so that the group at times stopped singing (or substituted bawdy rhymes) unnoticed. 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.

    AS AMERICAN POPSTERS PROTESTED AT THE TIME, the Beatles—first called “the English Everly Bros” though Phil & Don weren't thrilled about it—were offering little that Stateside acts hadn't, musically; they had once even called themselves the Four Everlys. Their records were unsophisticated, producer George Martin having no experience in rock, coming from the show tradition of the Goons (Peter Sellers, Spike Milligan & Harry Secombe), forerunners of Monty Python. Sound engineer “Hurricane” Smith had to work with primitive UK studio equipment. So it is no wonder to the ears of American industry professionals ‘Please Please Me’ sounded like the Country Pop of the real Everlys. In fact it is very much like ‘That's Old Fashioned’ (1962)—so, an attractive recording but obviously nothing new.

    English record producer and former rock journo Charlie Gillett: “For a while in the mid-Sixties, to be an American producer in Britain was to be in a distinct category, as Americans were recognized to have more adventurous production styles [and] played an important part in educating our engineers in American production techniques.” Yanks in the UK included Jimmy Miller helming the Rolling Stones and Spencer Davis Group, Shel Talmy the Kinks and The Who, Bert Berns (a.k.a. Russell) of Don Kirshner/Brill Building pop producing recordings for Them and Lulu, Felix Pappalardi for Cream, and Phil Spector, eventually, for the Beatles themselves. Yet Gillett claims Beach Boy music, from the same mainsprings of rock, was outdated on the arrival of the Beatles— without offering any illustration of his point—and presumably came right on first hearing the Beatles in 1964 (?)! Maybe it is to fit this outlandish statement that Gillett post-dates the commencement of Brian Wilson productions three years to ’65.

    While well-bred manager Brian Epstein put his twopenn’th in about what the Beatles should record, the group obviously knew better and were happy leaving to chance Capitol’s doctoring of the master tapes in America—recognising virtually any Americans (and Capitol ‘experts’ fell into that category for rock’n’roll) would improve on Parlophone’s work done with the Beatles’ own input. No surprise that many Beatle records, especially releases outside the US, have a quirky feel of Tin Pan Alley uncomfortably mixed with rockabilly, or an English attempt at it.

    Yes, they were different, in their Old World charm that urban Americans had long forgotten. If their charm and humor was Irish via Liverpool, the down-to-earth opportunism—and an awe of all that was flashy in American culture—was pure working-class England. An American equivalent might be experientially deprived hillbilly Jethro Beaudine coming to the big city and aping all he saw—in his fashion. Their presentation, via influences from Bert Kaempfert, Klaus & Astrid & Jurgen, Brian Epstein, came from Continental Europe. Not only appearance: Close your eyes and listen to early Beatle music, and picture everyman’s Liverpool-via-Hamburg group putting out the same: an act that Rory Storm & the Hurricanes could call their equal. People who knew them and their music intimately at the time said it. It was on top of hundreds of years of European traditional music that they attempted to overlay rock’n’roll. Question: Was this rock’n’roll, an advance on rock’n’roll, or a diluted alternative more related to other Euro acts: Edith Piaf, Johnny Halliday, James Last, Kraftwerk?

    Lennon & McCartney came up with a perfect combination of show tunes and ersatz rock’n’roll—not a blending of the two but a craft division as in two assembly streams in a song factory. Their rock’n’roll was as straight as they could make it, improving in the late Sixties with ‘Revolution’ and ‘Back in the USSR’; and their Music Hall songs, which by Sgt Peppers they learned to give a rock veneer, were pure sentiment. Everyone could take something from it, and this catchall ‘something for everyone’ approach— that Elvis had turned to in 1960—brought unparalleled success.

    It was all over after the music critic of The Times anointed Lennon & McCartney “the greatest composers since Beethoven”— not even Gilbert & Sullivan. Their habit of descending a third from minor to major, then another third back to major (as in ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’—personal communication from Celia Wood-Calvert)—brought comparisons with Schubert but was the sort of thing untutored musicians not hidebound by academic orthodoxies were likely to stumble upon in the normal course of exploring possibilities. It was their good fortune to be hailed for it.

    Alan Livingston, Capitol president and inventor of Bozo the Clown, presents the Beach Boys with what be their first RIAA Gold Discs in 1965: they were always albums, and awarded so late because audited belatedly.

    Alan Livingston, Capitol president and inventor of Bozo the Clown, presents the Beach Boys with what must be their first RIAA Gold Discs in 1965: they were always albums, never singles, and awarded so late because audited belatedly.

    A passage in Gerry Bloustein’s Musical Visions: Selected Conference Proceedings from 6th National Australian/New Zealand IASPM compares Lennon-McCartney songwriting with Brian Wilson’s. “The songwriters who most often utilised blues-based songforms were Brian Wilson and John Lennon-Paul McCartney. Wilson’s surf and hot rod songs… often involve original and creative adaptations of the standard blues form, and in this sense Wilson should be accorded more credit as the songwriter who was best able to create a logical development of 1950s rock, and surf groups should be considered to be updated rock and roll bands.

    “Wilson’s use of the blues-based form is deserving of some detailed attention. He rarely used the form for a complete song… Most of Wilson’s songs are verse-chorus forms, while in some songs (such as ‘Little Deuce Coupe’, ‘Little Honda’) the blues form is employed in the verse but not the chorus. In others (like ‘Dance Dance Dance’, ‘Drag City’ and ‘Surf City’) the reverse applies. The other technique employed by Wilson was to vary the standard chord progression over the last four bars of the form, thereby creating a striking hook effect, usually in combination with prominent multi-part vocals and a strong lyric hook. This technique is evident on ‘Shut Down’, ‘Drag City’, ‘Surf City’ and ‘Three Window Coupe’.

    “Lennon-McCartney also used (copied?) [Bloustein’s term] this latter technique, most notably in ‘Day Tripper’ and they too created some idiosyncratic adaptations of the form… Like Wilson, Lennon-McCartney rarely employed the form for a complete song. Their nor-mal procedure was to use the blues scheme for the A section of the typical AABA form and to create a strongly contrasting B section by using a progression totally unconnected with the blues idiom, as in songs such as ‘I Feel Fine’, ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’ and ‘She’s a Woman’.”

    Bloustein goes on to point out that during 1963-66 no other successful writers but the Motown ones make significant use of the blues-based form. But Beatle use of it was strongly tempered by their AABA scheme, which “had been commonly used by popular songwriters for ‘thousands of Tin Pan Alley tunes… a form totally predictable to mid-century listeners’.”

    The AABA songform is four 8-bar sections. Many Beatle songs were dependent on a quirky, not to say cute ‘middle eight’ (B) section that caused traditionalists to prick up their ears in gladness.

    The myth of Beatle omnipotence—almost a religious belief in which faith triumphs over facts—was reinforced by the likes of Gillett when he misinformed his readers (1975) that “the Beatles brought the idea of the organic songwriting, singing and instrument-playing unit to the American record business”—a myth perpetuated by Murray Kaufman as late as 1998. It was there in germ form in Johnny Cash & the Tennessee Three; even, mostly, Elvis Presley, Scotty Moore, Bill Black & D J Fontana; and Buddy Holly & the Crickets. The Beach Boys took it to the ultimate before the Beatles, as such, were ever recorded.

    ACCORDING TO THE ROCK HISTORIAN’S BOOK OF Genesis one summer 15-year-old Paul McCartney saw John Lennon, twenty months older, singing with his band for the local Woolton village fete in their home city of Liverpool, the chief north-of-England port that serviced Lancashire’s coal mines and had cargoed cotton from the Confederacy during the American Civil War in defiance of Abraham Lincoln. Equivalent to New York City’s East River dockland but without the prosperity—Great Britain had won the war but “lost the peace”—Liverpool working people were clannish and proud of their scrappy cum entrepreneurial Irish roots. For the Dead End Kids, in the Hollywood B-movies that had informed so many British Empire kids, read John, Paul, George & Ringo. Who can imagine latter-day serene guru George Harrison as the head-butting kid he was, as described by Paul, when he joined the Quarry Men? Lennon, better at lyrics, and McCartney took quirky Scouse humor and added clever wordplay for their songs. Once they started mixing with the fashionable-arty London crowd in 1963 literary pretentions crept in.

    It was early 1958 that the three-man core of the Beatles consolidated. This was three years after Lonnie Donegan hit with skiffle, and Bill Haley & His Comets impacted rock’n’roll on Britain with deva-stating results via ‘Shake, Rattle and Roll’ and ‘Rock Around the Clock’, the theme from gang/rebellion movie Blackboard Jungle. English youths—egged on by violent Teddy Boy subculture—reacted accordingly when Haley & the Comets toured just a few months before, rioting and tearing up seats with flick knives. More than the Teddy Boy image and attire rubbed off on the Quarry Men. Reportedly, the lads themselves were not above a bit of opportunistic rough-housing to get what they wanted from the mean streets of Liverpool or Hamburg.

    And it was two years after Elvis Presley. The younger and better looking Elvis had burst from the Tupelo, Mississippi backwoods into throbbing blues center Memphis, Tennessee to mix r&b and country music and take over Teen America. His scintillating, melodramatised performances of ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ and ‘Hound Dog’ were frenetic and frailly breathless, and held to be extraordinary, coming as they did from a white man’s vocal cords. His ‘Jailhouse Rock’ broke a year later at the time Lennon and McCartney were meeting, with Buddy Holly’s ‘That’ll Be the Day’ and ‘Peggy Sue’, and Jerry Lee Lewis’s ‘Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On’ and ‘Great Balls of Fire’ just as popular.

    Though less authentic than Elvis’s earlier Sun recordings of ‘That’s Alright Mama’, ‘Mystery Train’, ‘Baby Let’s Play House’ and ‘Good Rockin’ Tonight’, white rock’n’roll was, after a breach birth, coming out of incubation. Always just a heartbeat and last gasp away from crib death by misadventure, it would soon be rolled on in its slumber by hefty corporate America, rock’n’roll’s domineering stepmother.

    Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley and Fats Domino had already scored their first hits on the (white) pop charts—‘Tutti Frutti’, ‘Maybelline’, ‘Bo Diddley’/‘I’m a Man’, ‘Ain’t That a Shame’. All were remorseless rock’n’rollers, until Richard repented, and were black—so couldn’t be teen icons in the eyes of the music industry of the time. The substitutes who were allowed to make white girls go all gooey were pale-complected, fussily groomed Italo-American boys—Bobby Darin, Frankie Avalon, Fabian, Freddy Cannon, Bobby Rydell, James Darren, Lou Christie. Ethnics like Tony Orlando, Teddy Randazzo and Steve Alaimo who didn’t ‘regularize’ their names had viable recording careers but were obviously less stellar. The teen idols were promoted by Bandstand and Pat Boone’s series from the 1957-58 tv season, Billboard magazine and its new Hot 100, and a host of other mass media outlets.

    The absence of Elvis Presley in the army for two years cleared the way for these ballroom imitations to replace real rock’n’roll.

    BEACH BOYS LIVE in New Zealand, 2007 — REVIEW

    In celebrity, generational/fashion, music on January 21, 2008 at 10:58 pm

    THE BEACH BOYS (Mike Love, Bruce Johnston, John Cowsill, et al)

    Supported by: Christopher Cross & band

    Vector Arena, Auckland, New Zealand; 7.30 to 10.50pm
    18th November 2007; $NZ129

    Promotion was good for this show. There had been an interview done with Mike Love on the Australian leg of the tour, shown on New Zealand current affairs tv two nights before the Auckland concert. And news footage of the Beach Boys entourage of Thirties-Forties American classics, speeding up the highway the morning after their New Plymouth show, heading for Auckland 400 kilometres away. But the fact that ticket sales were slow was shown by the fact that after four months, the very day before the show, there were still tv ads trying to move them. In the event, a crowd of 5,000 (my estimate) filled the 12,000-capacity Auckland venue with joyous noise and singing.

    The tv ads for the concert had only mentioned Christopher Cross in support, so it was with mixed feelings—torn between irritation and resignation—that we entered the arena three minutes after start time to be greeted by a nondescript ‘girl band’ intent on singing Queen and ELO songs. (All these people must have come simply for nostalgia, so anything pre-Rap will do, right?) I had been expecting to grit my teeth through Chris, the one-time crown prince of castrato Easy Listening, but this was too much. Ambiguously called the Ladykillers, I recognised two of the four as popular Kiwi stars of yesteryear, one of them (Suzanne Donaldson that was) going back the entire forty years and more to the mid-Sixties heyday of the Beach Boys, the other (Tina Cross) merely to the beginning of Disco. They might have been reasonably entertaining in their field of Cabaret Soul on another occasion, accompanied as they were solely by a pianist, but I just wasn’t in the mood. Why not give an opportunity to local up-and-coming rockers—someone at least vaguely in the spirit of things?

    I had bought two tickets in July when the box-office opened, half intending to take my usual girlfriend. Only, whenever I had played her the Beach Boys on record or DVD before she had made unfortunate remarks like, “They should do songs that are easy to sing, like Abba or the Beatles.” By a few days before the concert I’d suffered months of daytime nightmares involving her sitting through the concert, seemingly enjoying herself, as she always did, then remarking, ‘Ah, that was quite nice… But if only it had been Abba, or the Bee Gees!” I’d asked my mother first if she wanted to see the Beach Boys—she’d expressed a liking for their music for years, in fact forty years. But, inundated with it whether she wanted it or not, as she’d been since the Sixties, I wasn’t sure that she wasn’t just being sociable in hesitantly assenting. At these prices I wanted someone who would actually appreciate the experience for what it was—the last ever visit to these shores by representatives of the greatest sound ever. I was determined not to take my best (male) friend, as I had to Brian & the Wondermints in December 2004. So “Maw” it was.

    The brilliant planning of logistics that went into this special evening—I only fork out for shows when at least one Beach Boy is involved—was something to behold. My mother is elderly, heading well towards frail, is diabetic, and needs a walker to travel more than fifty metres at a time. She needs careful timing of meals and snacks, and she’d decided to leave her walker at home.

    I’m glad the current Beach Boys turned out to be worth every penny and every bit of inconvenience. For quality and enjoyment I would rate them well ahead of the February 1978 lineup—made up of the five originals —and behind only the April 1970 lineup (Bruce substituting for Brian) with its immaculate reproduction of recordings. And this show outdid the classic 1970 show for enjoyment because of its overwhelming crowd reaction compared to the staid, inhibited audience of that time, offering polite applause.

    As it happened, the surprise guests mainly acted to slow the show down, heralding the beginning of long setting-up delays and disruptive but fortunately intermittent lighting problems. It was a happy surprise that Christopher Cross was more of a rocker than I expected (I only knew ‘Theme from Arthur’ and ‘Sailing’). Though I’m certainly no expert, Christopher seems a fluent, skilled lead guitarist and his accompaniment—good vocals also—especially from a sexy blonde California Girl keyboard player and veteran bassist, improved things beyond anything I’d anticipated. His voice is somewhat stronger and more versatile than it sounds on record, and its Carl-Wilson-before-his-balls-dropped quality would come in very handy on a sincerely felt ‘I Can Hear Music’ guest spot within the Beach Boys’ segment; and later faithfully rendered ‘Carl’ vocals on ‘Kokomo’. The final song in his set, ‘Hey Laura’, was a lovely solo tribute to Dennis & Carl.

    The Beach Boys Band, a more accurate description surely than what is implied by coopting the Beach Boys’ name with all there is to live up to, came on around 8.50pm after a 15-minute interval, to the tune of ‘Wipe Out’. This, in a single moment, set the tone—with a contagious bonhomie flowing out to the audience and back again in waves. Make no mistake, this was “The Mike Show” delivering a hits package—but all in great style and spirit. It was actually like being back in the Sixties, a claim I can’t make for any other show I’ve seen, by anyone. The Big Kahuna surfboards brought on to stand either side of the stage set helped, and two or three sweet little girls later invited on stage to singalong with ‘Barbara Ann’, ‘Fun Fun Fun’…

    What Mike Love has lost in mobility at 66, possibly due to reported back problems, he has certainly made up for in working the crowd far better than I’d seen from him during the previous Beach Boys shows in Auckland. He has blossomed, admittedly belatedly, out from under the gaze of Brian and the others, regardless of the rights and wrongs of all feuds among the original members—which will never be resolved objectively or justly no matter how long the arguments continue to fly back and forth.

    Bruce Johnston, 63, on keyboards—backed up by a specialist producing all sorts of sounds from a multi-deck instrument—was no slouch, the cheerleader for Mike and others at the slightest sign of the pace of the show flagging. The only time it happened was during the aforementioned lighting problems. Bruce sang ‘Do You Wanna Dance? well, with surprising energy—and performed ‘God Only Knows’ even better.

    Certainly the most energetic of all was John Cowsill, who must be well into his fifties. Taking the trouble to reproduce percussive subtleties in a way Dennis rarely did live, at times he looked a lot like Dennis, flailing as he did in his youth, long hair flopping on his face. Apparently this was a warm-up tour for him, before he returns to his own family band, the Sixties’ Cowsills—styled halfway between the Beach Boys and the Mamas & the Papas. This Cowsill sang ‘Darlin’, ‘Help Me Rhonda’ and ‘California Dreamin’ (more like the Mamas & the Papas original than the Al remake) passably well.

    Of the three unknown players thus far unmentioned, two were young guitarists and the other a bass player/falsetto. The falsetto sang a serviceable solo on ‘Don’t Worry Baby’ and so on but of course without anything like the dexterity and feeling of Bri. He was better singing backup on the likes of ‘Surf City’, where a somewhat limited, shrill high voice would serve. Between the three of them they sang about ten of the leads—I can only assume engineered by Mike and Bruce to save energy.

    Given that, the only jarring interpretation came from the young rhythm guitarist, who on ‘Then I Kissed Her’ gave nothing like the quality of Al Jardine (and isn’t the primary role of stand-ins to reproduce the sound of the originals?), but more like an American Idol contestant trying to do Phil Collins. An interesting variation on this song, though, was contained in the middle break—there isn’t one in the Beach Boys’ recorded version of 1965—reverting to the Crystals’ more elaborate 1963 original.

    If I was tempted to carp a little more I would mention the Latin rhythm rather annoyingly employed on ‘When I Grow Up’— seriously missing Denny’s innovative stick work heard as a highlight on the original track. Conspicuously missing: ‘Heroes & Villains’, and all others from the Smile era—obviously not a Mike scene. And the way Mike has brought ‘Kokomo’ into focus for the encore instead of ‘Good Vibrations’ is a little obvious. Mike himself, as always, was best in his his deeper registers, on ‘Catch a Wave’, ‘Hawaii’, ‘Still Cruisin’, ‘Kokomo’…

    Early on, the two ‘Dance’ numbers were performed best, and seven songs in, on ‘Why Do Fools Fall in Love?’—a revelation, counterpoint harmonies that wouldn’t be matched the rest of the evening. ‘Warmth of the Sun’, ‘Good Timin’ and ‘In My Room’, in that order, also boasted excellent harmonies. Somewhat surprisingly —and all the more so because following a lacklustre ‘Sloop John B’— ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’, which was written off as “obscure” in 1970 by an Auckland reviewer, raised the humungous audience response of the night: a standing ovation and singalong from start to finish. Not to disparage the motive for such an overwhelming ovation, it is probably due to (a vastly inferior version) being the theme for Cadbury chocolate ads, played on television here for years.

    Yet, ‘God Only Knows’, the theme to tv’s Big Love, got nothing like the same reaction, though equally beautifully done all round. ‘Little Honda’ was all excitement, attracting second biggest response and almost bringing the house down, then ‘Surf City’ and ‘Surfin’ USA’, with ‘Little Deuce Coupe’, ‘Help Me Rhonda’, and ‘Fun Fun Fun’ other big participation numbers. Strobe lighting effects pulled out for ‘Good Vibrations’ were highly effective; ‘Surfer Girl’ had been introduced as the “cellphone participation song”, prompting innumerable flashes toward the stage from all points for the duration. By the time of ‘Barbara Ann’—with the Christopher Cross band joining the Beach Boys on stage in a party atmosphere—all the stops were well and truly pulled out and what had been a fast-paced show accelerated still as ‘Surfin’ Safari’ segued frantically into a rocking-out ‘USA’.

    Oh, and Maw really grooved, as well as she was able—as I was taking notes in the dark. I’m glad I gave her one of the highlights of her life as it winds down. She still tells people about it more than two months later. Count them: three dozen hits in two hours flat. I call that value for money.

    SETLIST

    1. California Girls 20. Don’t Worry Baby
    2. Dance Dance Dance 21. Still Cruisin’
    3. Do You Wanna Dance? 22. Little Deuce Coupe
    4. Then I Kissed Her 23. 409
    5. Darlin’ 24. I Get Around
    6. When I Grow Up 25. In My Room
    7. Why Do Fools Fall in Love? 26. Good Timin’
    8. Sloop John B 27. California Dreamin’
    9. Wouldn’t It Be Nice? 28. God Only Knows
    10. I Can Hear Music 29. Good Vibrations
    11. Surfer Girl 30. Help Me Rhonda
    12. Do It Again 31. Rock and Roll Music
    13. Surf City 32. Barbara Ann
    14. Catch a Wave 33. Surfin’ Safari
    15. Hawaii 34. Surfin’ USA
    16. Little Honda
    17. Be True to Your School Encore:
    18. Warmth of the Sun 35. Kokomo
    19. Getcha Back 36. Fun Fun Fun

    G. A. (Gary) De Forest
    ‘Beach Boys vs Beatlemania: Rediscovering Sixties Music’
    Booklocker.com, November 2007

    To be published in the “Beach Boys Britain” newsletter

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