august 5th extract-the beach boys

The Beach Boys-Disney Girls (1957)

I’m not one for hyping music too much, although, possibly, just possibly, at times I may have strayed a little too much towards the side of “this is the greatest piece of art by the greatest artist ever” within this year whilst writing this book. Actually, thinking about it, this is a trait that I’ve had for a very long time-I have a distant, faint yet horrible memory of giving a friend a Peel session tape of Wah! Heat and being utterly convinced that they PeteWylie's band was bound for immense glory. So much so that I wince at recollecting that I used a phrase along the lines of “this lot are going to be bigger than Led Zeppelin”. Of course they weren’t and were never going to be, so maybe what I’m going to write next should be taken with a pinch of salt. The Beach Boys “Disney Girls (1957)” is the finest, loveliest, most perfect pop song that was ever been written. Nothing ever comes close to it and nothing will. If you had to describe what pop music is or just had one song to pick for someone, who, in the most unlikely event, has never heard any other pop songs before, then this is the one to choose. There might be arguments in favour of some Tamla or Stax classics, or something from Phil Spector’s output but once you’ve heard this track, there really is no other option. The odd thing and the ironic thing is that this track wasn’t even written by Brian Wilson-it’s a Bruce Johnston composition. For all the pre-Smile Beach Boys pop songs; really all the pre-pet Sounds Beach Boys songs and the whole of the Pet Sounds album as well as Smile itself (in all its tortured versions) and all the critical acclaim they’ve garnered over the years as the epitome of pop, of being the very essence of pop itself, why is this post-Smile, post- breakdown Beach Boys song-and one not written by Brian Wilson at that- the one track I’d pick above all others to demonstrate what pop is all about, and just how special it can be? It only lasts a few minutes, as all perfect pop should do. It doesn’t speak of rebellion or puts on any airs and graces. Every phrase is that of a sigh, of wistfulness, of a yearning for times gone by. It’s downbeat and melancholic, which is against the perceived “fun, fun, fun” of earlier Beach Boys, but it’s not a sad song in itself. The dream-like qualities in the song are not those of being in a dream; they’re the half-awake, half-asleep feelings when you can’t actively distinguish between sleep and wakefulness. As in all Beach Boys songs the harmonies are perfect; that can be taken as read I guess. It’s the little things and the little things that Johnston is singing about: old America, day turning into dusk, early nights with pillow fights, bingo chances, open cars, old time dances, making wine. Every single word is judged perfectly and with Johnston’s vocals occasionally slipping into a minor key, it doesn’t get better than this. The way he sings the word Disney-with three syllables (Dis-in-ey) for me, is the cherry on the icing on the cake. There’s whistling as the song fades out and you can’t go wrong with whistling in a song either.