Beach Boys -- Pet Sounds

(Capitol 48421)

"When one considers how the melodies, themes, riffs, hooks, production and arragement devices have been plundered by other writers. . . Pet Sounds can be heard with a sense of familarity on first listen, having, in some subliminal manner, an effect similar to that of a well compiled greatest hits package."

-- Neal Umphred, "Brothers, Cousins and Friends"

(Goldmine, June 1, 1990)

I’ll take Pet Sounds however I can get it. I’ll take it as a Greatest Hits package without any real "hits." I’ll take it as awesome recording created in an era when such a thing was being invented. I’ll even take it as Brian Wilson’s first solo LP, as little as the rest of the Beach Boys were actually involved.

I’ll take Pet Sounds to lunch, I’ll take Pet Sounds with my evening paper, and I’ll take Pet Sounds on compact disc.

That’s right. Finally -- Pet Sounds on compact disc.

Then again, it doesn’t matter what medium you choose to enjoy this quirky pop masterpiece on. I’ve taken it on 8-track, and I’ve worn out two copies of it on vinyl. I’ve taped Pet Sounds for my friends and put my second favorite Beach Boys LP, Today, on the other side. I even had room for selected jewels from Smiley Smile and Summer Days (and Summer Nights!!) to round it all out.

I’ll take Pet Sounds loud in my boombox, and I’ll take it soft late at night. Like everything the Beach Boys did under the tutelage of Brian Wilson, Pet Sounds has an honest-to-goodness sound. It is a layered, gauzy world that has entranced musicians and fans for many years -- from Paul McCartney, who said it was the inspiration behind the Beatles’ experimentation on Sgt. Pepper’s; to Sonic Youth, who cover "I Know There’s an Answer" on the just-released Brian Wilson tribute; to XTC, who recorded a soundalike Pet Sounds / Smiley Smile tribue on their Dukes of Stratosphear disc. Pet Sounds is an LP that never apologizes for the innocence of its pop vision, and it seems to win more admirers as the years go on.

And when the CD format is replaced by the recording industry’s next "technological breakthough," I’ll take Pet Sounds on it too. Digital chip?

The bass throbs and flutters. The overdubbed harmonies revamp madrigal vocal lines and graft them to avant-garde rock. Except for "Sloop John B" -- the one false moment on this otherwise flawless work -- Pet Sounds is a sweeping breeze of fresh air when I’m perspiring, and a snuggly blanket of furry warmth when its icicle weather.

Angry, paranoid digression: I’ll take Pet Sounds whether clannish, melody-hating distortion thugs -- walking around hip record stores with overpriced SubPop EPs under their arms discoursing on that’s in and what’s out -- like it or not. That bicycle horn at the end of "You Still Believe in Me" is for you, junior!!

I’ll take Pet Sounds with or without the extra CD tracks. They are rather throwaway, but nice to have in any case. If you listen closely to one, you can hear Brian ask his engineer Chuck Britz if he could bring a horse into the studio. "It’s small, like a pony." Chuckle.

I’ll even take Pet Sounds as a loosely structured concept album chronicling the beginning and end of a romantic relationship. "Wouldn’t It Be Nice" flows into "You Still Believe in Me" and that seques into "Don’t Talk" and then "God Only Knows" works its way to the unbelievably sad "Caroline No" on side two. "Sloop John B" fouls up the storyline -- but it still works if you want it to.

I’ll take the CD of Pet Sounds alongside the bootleg CD of the Beach Boys’ lost Smile sessions, currently making its way through the hands of collectors. If you can find this baby -- and afford it -- you can groove to the darker side of Wilson’s experimentations from this period. It’s crazy, hashish-tinged and bombastic -- with Van Dyke Parks lyrics and odd instruments playing swirling jazz melodies. In fact, on some days, I’ll take the Smile bootleg stuff I’ve heard OVER Pet Sounds.

Imagine that.

Last but not least, I’ll take this excellent CD reissue of Pet Sounds (with cool liner notes and wonderful photos) as Capitol Records’ heartfelt apology for fucking up Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys lo these many years. The label didn’t support Brian when he wanted to experiment on this album (and others) and vary the group’s sound away from the superfical teen tunes (it was OK for the Beatles to be "smart" but not the Beach Boys), and the label stupidly deleted much of the band’s back catalog in the ‘70.’s

Take Pet Sounds whichever way the clueless Capitol boys want you to have it -- CD, digital chip, whatever. Above all, take it in the spirit in which it was originally crafted back in 1966. Take it to heart.

--- Don Harrison / Catharsis #11 - June 1990