The Beach Boys Love You

I'm writing a lot about albums I'm listening to at the moment. Because at the moment, I'm making an album. Perhaps it's quite delusional of me to imagine that anyone would ever care, but everyone who makes albums is delusional- except the one's who end up being famous. Since we are trying to make that Breakthrough Record, I'm going to plan on that succeeding. Thus, at some point after we're worldwide superstars, someone might wonder just what records the drummer was enamored with during the recording process. It matters. This article is about the Beach Boys album Love You. If our record, upon completion, has some Moogs on it, now you'll know why.

If one fancies oneself a rock and roll completist, at some point one must become a Beach Boys completist. And a true Beach Boys completist will sooner or later go down the rabbit hole that is Smile. I’ve been down that rabbit hole, and I’m not sure I ever fully made it out. But this particular article is not about Smile.

Brian Wilson’s failure in 1966 to realize his “teenage symphony to God” sent him spinning into a total breakdown, which rendered him about as close to Syd Barrett as anyone’s ever been who lived to tell about it. During this time Brian was largely a recluse, sporadically poking his head out to appear in music videos and at Live Aid, playing a keyboard that probably wasn’t plugged in. It would be a full four decades before he would finally reemerge as a consistent recording and touring artist.

But way back in the 70s, amidst the “Brian’s Back” campaign which the band and record label had orchestrated to boost ticket sales for Beach Boys concerts, Brian Wilson actually wrote and recorded an entire album of all new and original songs for the Beach Boys.

Love You was quietly released in early 1977 to mixed reviews and disappointing sales. Mike Love quickly steered the group back toward his ideal vision of nostalgia act, relentlessly touring the corn dog circuit. And Brian crawled back into bed. But Love You is a real album that actually happened, and you can still get it and listen to it anytime time you like.

Some of the lyrics (okay most of the lyrics) are pretty juvenile but regardless, this is a collection of pop tunes crafted by a man who’s ability to craft pop tunes is widely regarded as second to none. Gone are the Wrecking Crew and live orchestra from Pet Sounds. Instead, Brian used an array of 70s synthesizers to round out the tunes. All of the great melodies and hooks, the lush harmonies, the calls and responses you’d expect from a top notch Brian Wilson production are present and accounted for.

“Ding Dang” is a minute of silliness if ever there was one. But have you ever met anyone who could arrange those vocals? Some of the tunes, “Mona” and “Solar System” for example, sound almost satirical. Brian Wilson’s version of Spinal Tap. Even the chords are funny. But there’s also a strange, child like innocence which suggests a complete earnestness.

Love You is dripping with complex textures and while many of the songs are just a bit too weird for the casual fan to digest, it’s certainly never boring. The Beach Boys successes set a new standard for what rock and roll is capable of. Unfortunately their mediocre works excite no one and worse, they’ve got stacks of unlistenable dreck that really undermines their legacy. This really isn’t fair, because if one is to ponder the true Beach Boys canon, certainly nothing after 1980 may be included. Brian was always the creative genius, and Love You is perhaps the last full album where he really tried.

The Beach Boys catalog is often a never ending sea of compilations and repackages built around one garbage single. But there are occasional bargain bin finds of real quality, and Love You is certainly one.

Look, we only have so much time on this earth. And we have very few complete works by possibly the greatest pop composer ever. If you stopped listening somewhere between “Good Vibrations” and “Heroes and Villains”, you’re missing out on some pretty neat stuff. It’s not as shiny as “California Girls” and certainly not as beautiful as “Caroline No”, but Love You is every bit as creative and undoubtably Brian Wilson’s most David Lynch-esque piece.