You want to know something? Well, I'll tell you anyway. I find it extra-ordinarily difficult to critique music. Seriously. I know bugger-all about it. Music, that is.
Oh, I know WHO made it. I know WHEN they made it. Most times I even know WHERE they made it. But I have no idea HOW they made it. You know, the technical things. I wouldn't know the difference between a treble clef and a double fault.
Therefore, when it comes to me being critical of a piece of music, I can't very well base my assessment on whether or not all the notes are in the right spots, only on whether or not I like the sound of it.
It also means that if all the "experts" rave on about a particular album, I'm on pretty shaky ground if I go overboard criticising it, or at the least, am less than exultant about it. Afterall, from a technical perspective; how the fuck would I know?
No, given my lack of technical expertise I just clamber aboard that old maxim; "You don't need to be a chicken to know a rotten egg".
Even though I don't know how it all goes together, I reckon I have a fairly discerning ear for what's good and what's not. Feel free to disagree.
However, if all those self same "experts", who probably do know the odd thing or two about middle-eights, semi-quavers and crotchets rave on about, say, The Flaming Lips, am I just talking out of my hat if I say I don't love them too?
Which brings me to Smile. If it happens you don't normally pay attention to these music posts, make an exception this time round, and make sure you read what Dave Marsh wrote 25 years ago.
Smile is OK. No, it's better than OK, it's actually rather good, but if the critics are to be believed, it's an absolute masterpiece.
However, if it's an absolute masterpiece it must be every bit as good as all the other albums I consider to be absolute masterpieces. And it must also have been an absolute masterpiece for a lot longer than the short time in which it's been available.
I don't see that. Not yet, anyway.
In short, the two songs that frame the album, Heroes and Villains and Good Vibrations both go very well, indeed. But you knew that, didn't you, they've both been around for ages. In between is virtually one long song suite. After four listens, that part also seems to go alright. Although, I still prefer the suite concept of Blood, Sweat & Tears' Child Is Father To The Man.
Another thing about all the other albums I consider masterpieces is that they were released well before I got to hear about them. I was afforded the advantage of not having to put up with the publicity and hype.
So in a cop-out of monumental proportions, I'll sit on Smile for the time being and get back to you in five years.
In the meantime, here's what Rolling Stone's (back when it was a creditable magazine) Dave Marsh wrote about The Beach Boys, Smile and Pet Sounds in 1979.
As the sixties waned, and with the advent of mass freak-out not only in California but all over Europe and America, Brian Wilson lost touch; his real talent was for expressing simple, everyday joys, not the mystical gobbledygook then in fashion. But the decade (and the drugs) began to have it's affect on him, and as a concequence, on the group, which has never been much more than a front for his personality.
Pet Sounds was the band's first commercial failure, mostly because Wilson was attempting to create the sort of pastiche The Beatles popularised with Sgt. Pepper before there was a market for it. The music is strong but spotty: if Wilson was ready for the experimentation, it is unlikely the other Beach Boys understood his portent.
Wild Honey is similarly confused: the title track is a R&B-flavoured smash, just the thing one would have bet the Beach Boys couldn't do well. But the rest is too cute or strained. 20/20 and Friends are basically collections of singles, some of which were moderate hits, most of which weren't. They were released because Wilson had bigger game in mind: a total production-conceptual masterpiece, tentatively called Smile.
For various reasons often chronicled elsewhere, the album was not released until the mid-seventies, when it's innovation seemed rather tepid and it's focus altogether misdirected. But Wilson's mystique, particularly among the critics, grew larger as the group's releases diminished -- Smiley Smile was gonna be a perfect record, one was assured again and again. People kept saying it even though the excerpts released on Surf's Up were much less forceful than the simple early rock hits. It was an excercise in myth-making almost unparalleled in show business. Wilson became a Major Artist by making music no one ever heard. That the results are so trivial is a bit amusing, a bit revolting.
I would love to hear what Marsh has to say today.
A contemporary of Dave Marsh is Robert Christgau and fortunately Rolling Stone have him on board to do their review of Smile.
Never mind Pet Sounds. Good record, but a totem. That leaves three great Beach Boys albums. First comes a fun-fun-fun best-of: With the canonical Endless Summer deleted, settle for 2003's longer, less pristine Sounds of Summer. The other two are quickies that fit neatly on one must-own CD: Buy Smiley Smile/Wild Honey while EMI lets you.
Smiley Smile and Wild Honey get respect now, but in 1967 they peeved hard-core Pet Sounds fans, who were waiting gape-mouthed for Smile, described by those in the know as the American Sgt. Pepper -- proof that our Bea-boys belonged in the same league as their Bea-boys. But Brian went bonkers, Mike Love got busy, and we ended up with only "Good Vibrations" and "Heroes and Villains" -- stopgap singles that made it onto the belittlingly titled Smiley Smile -- and dribs and drabs thereafter.
Only you know what happened? Brian Wilson survived his saner brothers and rebuilt his career, which the completely rerecorded SMiLE is supposed to crown. Since much of Wilson's 2004 Gettin' In Over My Head could have been sung from a crypt, this seemed like a terrible idea. Instead, it's a triumph.
AGB Rating - Distinction
I saw this at the Sydney Opera House last night. It was a fantastic show, as was the Pet Sounds concert in 2002. Attendance is a musical treat and also an act of homage to a person more musically talented than anyone else in popular music.
I guess I am too much of a fan (and have invested far too much in bootlegs over the years) to be objective about this, but the Beach Boys are my favourite band. As to the new Smile, it is better produced than the bootlegs, but the original Beach Boy vocals seem better. The Brian Wilson solo with piano version of Surf's Up is the most affecting version of this song.
The new Smile is still a wonderful thing. Brian Wilson is a musical genius. Getting involved in his music is a rewarding journey.
Posted by: SB | 14 December 2004 at 16:08
Just taking a rough stab, SB, but I get the impression you like Brian Wilson.
Here's a review of his Melbourne concert ...
The crowd came for Smile - and smile they did
Patrick Donovan
THIRTY-SEVEN years after abandoning his attempt at recording his "teenage symphony to God", Brian Wilson last night resurrected his lost classic album Smile in its entirety at the Regent Theatre.
On the same day that his persistence was acknowledged by three Grammy nominations for Smile, Wilson made a triumphant return to the stage.
The former Beach Boy first resurrected the album live at London's Royal Festival Hall in February to standing ovations, and there was similar devotion, jubilation and relief last night as Wilson and his 18-piece band painstakingly performed the album's intricate arrangements and stunning harmonies. All up, Wilson pumped out 45 songs in an epic three-hour show which will rank in the best of the year.
From the opening Christmas greeting through Surfer Girl, the first song Wilson wrote (in the back of a car) to a singalong on Row Row Row Your Boat, Wilson was in fine voice and spirit.
Would the gig top his triumphant 2002 re-enactment of Pet Sounds, widely regarded as the greatest pop album made? With the exception of the early hymn, Our Prayer, and the two hits Heroes and Villains and the mighty finale Good Vibrations, Smile is an acquired taste. It's a dizzying brew of whistles, wind chimes, animal noises and nursery rhymes, as Wilson takes us on a journey through his dreamland.
It's no Pet Sounds, but Wilson was in a generous mood and played all of his hits as well, including Barbara Ann, Fun, Fun, Fun, California Girls and God Only Knows. The beach motif was well suited to a balmy Melbourne evening, and the audience lapped it up.
Posted by: Tony.T | 14 December 2004 at 18:47
You know, I agree with this review. Pet Sounds was better. Also Wilson's voice is completely shot.
The backing vocals and the instrumenatation at the live shows are fantastic, but basically the live stuff is just repertory and reverence for a once great god. Everyone is grateful that Brian can read the words off his teleprompters. So they cheer and clap the beat and scream their devotion.
The fact is the songs mean different things now than they did then. They are still fantastic, but they do not have the shock of the new about them, the possibility of a new and better life out there somewhere.
Posted by: SB | 14 December 2004 at 21:59
Everyone I've talked to said Pet Sounds was better, too.
Personally, because I've given up the juice, I virtually never go to shows anymore. Rather stay at home and listen to the records.
Posted by: Tony.T | 14 December 2004 at 22:59
"Technical" knowledge can be a hindrance when it comes to enjoying music. I spent 6 years at a classical music school learning how to harmonise Bach chorales, and 15 years since then trying to forget what I learned.
It doesn't excuse your Dylan fixation though (you knew I couldn't resist bringing that up, didn't you?).
Posted by: hungbunny | 15 December 2004 at 01:52
Pet Sounds--fantastic. Dylan--also fantastic. That is all.
Posted by: vague | 15 December 2004 at 07:47
Pet Sounds -- good. Dylan -- fantastic. Vague -- Good. Hung -- Vile.
That is also all.
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 08:16
God, oldie stuff here!
Head over to Ms Fits' site and join the stash there, I called some of them pretentious for paying out the Cat Empire...
Posted by: Martin Pike | 15 December 2004 at 09:57
What's Ms Fits?
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 10:00
Hold that, I remember now?
New question: What's Cat Empire?
PS: Guilty, I'm old. Not pretentious, though. Not moi.
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 10:07
I'm with you Tony. I love reading really sophisticated musical commentary (Mikal Gilmore, Marsh, Ian McDonald etc) but I can't really do it myself.
My philosophy for "critiquing" music is pretty much if you like it, like it. If you don't, don't.
Posted by: Amanda | 15 December 2004 at 10:26
I'm back.
Very colourful over there, Pikey. Or should that be, Stiffy.
I'm inclined to agree with you. Surely if you criticise popular music for it's lyrics, you limit yourself to enjoying about half a per cent of all popular music. Popular music lyrics are nearly always stupid.
Of course I didn't think that before I got old and boring.
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 10:26
Ooooh, simultaneous posting. That means this site's busy. Or it doesn't.
I've never heard of Mikal Gilmore or Ian McDonald, Amanda, but doubtless now will check them out. Years ago I used to read Marsh, Gambacini, Marcus, Bangs, that guy who said Springsteen was the future of R&R, etc, you know, all the "big names" from the old days, but now-a-days wouldn't know one critic from the next.
I guess with the inty-o-net, there are about a million of them so it's hard to sort the chaff out from wheat.
And personally, I reckon at least seventy-five per cent are on some record company's payrole. Ninety per cent are idiots.
And pretention is everywhere. The day I use "searing" to describe some music is the day you can hit me over the head with my CD player that hasn't been run over by a taxi.
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 10:37
Boring? Nah, unthinkable mate!
Yeah, good lyrics are rarer than copies of Temple of the Dog...
Posted by: Stiffy | 15 December 2004 at 13:21
Well, the "critics" I like are more like feature writers who write about music rather than just the how-many-stars-out-of-five review writers.
Mikal Gilmore writes alot for Rolling Stone, probably the only reason to still read it. Alot of his essays are collected in a book, Night Beat. Also, he is the brother of Gary Gimore, the murderer whose execution created a fuss back in the 1970s. He (Mikal) wrote an excellent book ShotIn the Heart, about his brother and their family. Highly recommended also.
Ian Macdonald wrote the Beatles book, Revolution in the Head. He also was featured alot in Uncut. Sadly, he killed himself last year.
The Bruce/future of rock guy was Jon Landau, now his manager.
Posted by: Amanda | 15 December 2004 at 13:35
Oooh, that's right, I've been meaning to hunt down and kill all living members of Temple of the Dog for that Pearl Jam business. Thanks for reminding me.
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 13:43
Interesting that. Just as you were commenting, Amanda, I was doing the same. But right before I pressed the button, a colleague asked me to comment on Synchronous Machines. Synchronous. Spooky, no?
Gary Gilmore was interviewed in the very first Playboy I ever saw. About 1976. So it DOES have articles afterall.
Night Beat: Check.
Revolution in the Head: Check.
Shot In the Heart: Check.
Top stuff, now if any of my relatives out there are reading this, my birthday's next week and Chrissy's later in the week. Nudge. Nudge.
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 13:50
"You don't need to be a chicken to know a rotten egg".
I prefer:
"You know, I'm no art critic, but I know what I hate. And... I don't hate this."
-Montgomery Burns
Which is really a more famous quote rearranged, which I can't be bothered Googling for right now. I think maybe Prince Albert said it(?)
Posted by: Big Ramifications | 15 December 2004 at 15:32
Ahh, that Monty Burns. He gets all the good lines ...
"Bad corpse! Stop scaring Smithers!"
And something I've always wanted to say ...
"Do my worst, eh? Smithers, release robotic Richard Simmons."
Posted by: Tony.T | 15 December 2004 at 15:47
Vile? You smoothie, Tony.
No idea what Cat Empire is, but Big Black did a track called Kitty Empire on their classic 1987 album, Songs About Fucking.
Posted by: hungbunny | 15 December 2004 at 21:08
A pleasure, Hung. You know, I only ever insult my friends.
Dunno Big Black, Kitty Empire or Songs About Fucking. Is the last about dominoes?
Posted by: Tony.T | 16 December 2004 at 09:40