It's Beach Boys Week: Part III -- Apparently the Surfing is Very Good in Finland

Okay, I know I said I wouldn't, but please enjoy my latest obsession, aka Finnish weirdo rock revivalist Ilkka Heikki, and his sepulchural take on the Beach Boys classic "Dance Dance Dance."

Hey -- at least he gets the guitar and bass parts right, which is more than I've ever been able to do. The guitar solo sucks, however. 😎

Oh WTF, Let's Just Make it Beach Boys Week: Special "Why Didn't I Get the Memo?" Edition

From 1996, and unknown to me prior to last Sunday, please enjoy this absolutely astoundingly wonderful clip of veteran British rockers Status Quo doing a ripping good version of the Beach Boys classic "Fun, Fun, Fun."

With five of the actual Beach Boys -- including Brian and Carl -- contributing harmonies behind them.

And may I add that a) it's wonderful to see the Boys -- and in particular Brian(!) -- having such an obvious good time.

And b) if watching that clip doesn't make you smile from auditory canal to auditory canal, there's no hope for you. 😎

My Last Brian Wilson-Related Post For the Time Being: Special More "Fun, Fun, Fun" from Finland Edition

Attentive readers will recall my recent posting of a bizarre (for want of a better word) cover of The McCoy's "Beat the Clock" by Finnish rock "revivalist"(?) Ilkka Heikki.

And, more to the point, my utter confusion over whether it was a moderately amusing parody or -- and I found this a terrifying prospect -- actually meant straight.

In any case, while researching some Beach Boys stuff last week (for obvious reasons) I stumbled across another clip by the guy that has left me similarly and absolutely flummoxed.

To wit: a performance of "God Only Knows," and I can only say "God Forgive Me" for posting it. 😎

Or maybe I should say "Brian Forgive Me." I haven't got it sorted out.

But seriously -- is there some kind of celebrated Finnish sense of irony I'm not familiar with? Are the Finns noted for being a largely joyful people up there in the darkening shadow of the Arctic Circle? Or what?

Help me out here, friends -- or else I'll post the clips of Ilkka covering "Itchykoo Park," "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds" and "It's All Over Now."

And you really don't want me to do that. 😎😎

Brian Wilson: My Long Goodbye

[I originally posted this defense of the Beach Boys in the comments section back here in 2006(!). It was occasioned by NYMary's surprise that I rated them as high as I did in the American 60s pantheon; she didn't agree, although I think she's come around since. Anyway, it's going to figure in my Greatest Hits book, if I ever get around to getting it published, but it seemed appropriate to re-up it here given the sad news we all got on Wednesday. Frankly, I've been pretty much exhausted tryng to wrap my tiny mind around Brian's passing, so I hope you'll indulge me; I promise, there'll be new and hopefully less existentially dark stuff up next time we meet.

In the meantime, have a great weekend, everybody, and stay well. -- S.S.]

NYMary:

I must confess I find it a little odd to be writing this -- the Beach Boys music is pretty much my lingua franca, and the idea that they need defending feels weird to me given how much I love them (although I understand your skepticism, at least in the abstract. After all, Mike Love sucks).

In any event, here's why I think they deserve respect from mere mortals like you and me.

TEN REASONS THE BEACH BOYS ARE SELF-EVIDENTLY ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT AMERICAN BANDS OF THE SIXTIES.

IF NOT THE MOST IMPORTANT.

1. They invented an instantly recognizable sound of their own, one that practically defines a genre. Very few rock artists can make that claim. (Chuck Berry with "Johnny B Goode", The Byrds with "Tambourine Man," the Ramones, and maybe U2). That alone should guarantee the Beach Boys immortality.

2. What Raymond Chandler did for California in prose the Beach Boys did in music. They reflected a place and a time and made a kind of poetry out of it. They were not fake.

3. Five part harmonies, astoundingly gorgeous. And Brian's conception -- mating progressive jazz voicings a la the Four Freshman with classic doo-wop -- was totally unique. Here's a 1965 live clip that proves the point -- and if this a capella version of the Freshman's "Their Hearts Were Full of Spring" doesn't put a lump in your throat, you need to check your meds.

4. From their inception in the early 60s, they were pretty much the only self-contained rock band in America. Wrote all their own songs, produced their own records. Who else was doing that?

5. Kick-ass live act. If you doubt it, listen to Beach Boys Concert, get a video of their closed-circuit show from '64, or find The T.A.M.I Show video, in which -- performing on the same bill with the Stones, James Brown and most of the Motown acts, they tear the audience to shreds. Carl Wilson was a killer surf guitarist, and the rhythm section was as good as anybody in rock at the time.

Here they are in 1965 (from the the aforementioned T.A.M.I Show -- with a to-die-for version of "I Get Around."

6. Contrary to myth, they were not white bread at all. Carl and Dennis Wilson were as soulful singers in the r&b sense as anybody else working in the mid-Sixties. And that includes Stevie Winwood or Felix Cavliere.

7. The car and surf songs are actually quite brilliant. Who else ever conceived of writing love songs to a carburetor? And has any rock song ever conveyed as much sheer teenage elan as "Fun Fun Fun" or "I Get Around"?

8. Brian's best songs from the early period anticipate the confessional singer/songwriter LA genre. "Don't Worry Baby" may be as nakedly emotional and self-revealing as anything Joni Mitchell ever wrote. Ditto "Warmth of the Sun" or "In My Room" or "When I Grow Up."

9. The albums that preceed the sainted Pet Sounds and Smile are masterpeices. The Beach Boys Today, Brian's first real studio concept album, is masterly; "When I Grow Up" isn't even the best song on it (try "Don't Hurt My Little Sister" or the astounding Sinatra goes r&b of "The Back of My Mind" sung by Dennis). It's every bit as good as Rubber Soul in terms of consistency and melodic invention. The follow-up --Summer Days and Summer Nights, of which "California Girls" is simply the icing on the cake, is even better -- it's every bit Brian's Revolver. He never used the studio more impressively than "Let Him Run Wild" or emulated the Beatles with the riffy brilliance of "Girl Don't Tell Me."

10. The album that follows Pet Sounds and Smile is another masterpiece. Wild Honey is one of the handful of great white r&b albums of the period, and if you doubt it check out the title song or Carl's gorgeous reading of Stevie Wonder's "I Was Made to Love Her." And in it's back to basics way, it's very much of a piece with the Beatles White Album.

I could go on about the Beach Boys early 70s output -- you could make a fabulous comp album with songs like "Marcella" (one of their best ever rockers), "This Whole World" (Brian's canniest pocket symphony), "All I Wanna Do"(the most glorious use of reverb in history), "Bluebirds Over the Mountain" (progressive rockabilly, if you can believe it), "Do It Again" and any number of others up through "Trader" on Holland.

The decline after that was appalling, to be sure, but you get my point....the Beach Boys have a huge body of really transcendent work, and Brian wasn't the only big talent in the band.

Have I mentioned that Mike Love sucks?

Goodbye Brian

I'm still having trouble processing the head Beach Boys' passing; all I can really say is that it hit me much harder than I expected, and I suspect I'm not the only one who feels that way.

In any case, the above 2021 cover of one of his greatest songs, by fellow Angelenos Los Lobos, seems like an appropriate tribute.

Brian Wilson 1942 - 2025

This is a true story, swear to god.

This afternoon, while walking home from lunch at my Forest Hills watering hole, an attractive woman (of, as they say, a certain age) who I've never seen before in my life, stopped me on the street and said, out of the blue -- "Brian Wilson just died."

I really don't know where to begin. We looked at each other and just...ah hell.

Anyway, here's a glorious song you might not know from a solo album he did in 1998.

Other than that, I kinda lack the appropriate words at the moment. Maybe tomorrow.

And Speaking as We Were of the Late Great Bob Andrews...

Okay, this is going to be a little convoluted, so please indulge me; it'll be worth it, I promise.

So I was a huge fan of the first two albums by Brit-rockers Brinsley Schwarz, both of which came out in 1970 and were stylistically a sort of expensively produced-sounding mashup of commercial prog and CSN-ish Laurel Canyon hippie shit. I got them for free when I was a baby rock critic at my old college paper, and Nick Lowe's vocals and songwriting did it to me instantly. But above and beyond, the band's secret weapon was the gorgeously lyrical organ playing of Bob Andrews; here, from the debut set, is a song that sort of sums up the band's approach at the time, and as you'll hear, Andrews basically steals it.

I was still at school when the band's third LP, Silver Pistol, arrived. I knew nothing of the backstory -- short version: the Brinsley's management had flown over 100 journalists from the UK to NYC to review the band in performance at the Fillmore East, and hopefully launch the group to stardom; the junket, however was a complete fiasco and widely assumed to be a career ender. So I was also unaware that the new album's stylistic reinvention as what would later be called pub rock was not by itself down to it being recorded under primitive conditions on a mobile eight-track in the basement of the band's communal London home. In any case, the song below -- written by Lowe, but powered by a sublimely Buddy Holly-ish piano part by Andrews -- nailed me immediately, and it's been one of my all-time favorites ever since.

Anyway, as attentive readers are aware, Andrews departed this sad vale of tears last Thursday, at the way too young age of 75. After I posted about him on Sunday, Friend of PowerPop© ChrisE sent me the following video, which was previously unknown to me. Basically, it's Andrews doing a tutorial on how to play his part on the above (and on "Juju Man," another song from Silver Pistol). As you can doubtless imagine, I nearly swooned off my chair when I watched it, and unless you're seriously perverse of ears (and lacking in a soul) I think you will too.

I should add that, as you probably know, I'm a keyboard player (albeit a limited one) myself, with an electric piano device similar to the one Andrews is playing in the clip, and you better believe I'm gonna try to learn that part. I'll keep you posted on how that's working out. 😎

Tuesday's Cartoon Chuckle(s)

Okay, I know the Davis one isn't a cartoon but it cracked me up anyway so cut me some slack.😎

Regular music posting resumes on the morrow, weather permitting.

Capt. Al's 21st Century: Part VIII -- The Shape of Things to Come? Possibly!!!

[As attentive readers will recall, our old friend (and more important, Friend of PowerPop©) Allan Rosenberg, aka Capt. Al, has been toiling on a series about his fave recent artists for a while now. The first installment of these musical musings, about Feist, appeared here back in July. Now, as promised, here's the grand finale! Take it away, you old sea doggie!!! -- S.S.]

Welcome to the “Best Rock&Roll Music of the 21st Century, Part VIII”, by Captain Al!!!

So let me tell you my favorite musical artist of this century! Maybe some of you may have heard of her! I’d hadn’t been aware of her until 18 months ago but well known or not she’s a force of musical nature.

So señoras y señores -- I give you Juana Molina!!!.

She’s Argentinian. Sings in Spanish. She walked away from her very successful career as a comedian whose TV shows were a huge hit all through South & Central America. Think a sort of Saturday Night Live en espanol vibe.

Juana and her family left Argentina in the 1980's because of the oppressive political situation. She fled to the USA, learned to speak English, and upon later returning to Argentina embarked on a musical career that somehow turned into the hugely successful comedic career! How the heck did she become my favorite musician (and hopefully soon yours) of this century? As Steve says: “Let’s discuss!”

As I said, her music is new and forward looking, but most of all fearless in its explorations and methods. Think Sam Phillips (the Sun Records visionary producer, not the singer/songwriter who used to boink T-Bone Burnett) or Jefferson Airplane. Doesn't sound like them, but her music has their same exploratory spirit.

Here's our first example, and let us stipulate that while Juana walked away from her career in comedy she sure learned a lot about how to create compelling videos. This one, in particular, is a real hoot -- funny, spacey and political; for me it’s up there with The Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields." Enjoy!

Now let’s look at how she puts her music together while performing live. Using modern equipment, and a fresh viewpoint at each show, she never performs a song in quite the same way twice. Watch and listen when she constructs her song “Paraguaya“. I think you'll find it pretty amazing.

And let us now stipulate that Juana, as with all of my favorite musical artists, is still capable of surprising me.

So now I’m about to twist your R&R ears around one more time, because Juana is also a prankster. Stay with this video of Juana & her band playing “Paraguaya” quite differently from what we just heard above. Make sure you stay to the end, because she will twist your head around 180 degrees with this performance.

Since she sings all her music in Spanish I don’t have a clue what any of the songs are about, and I slso don’t care! She always looks to creating her music in slightly new ways I’ve never seen/heard before.

Is she the future of rock? I don’t have a clue, but I feel she's the future of quality modern 21st century popular music.

At least I hope so -- for our (and my granddaughter’s) musical sake! And if rock is dead (?) then at least I want to live in Juana Molina’s musical universe for the next several years.

-- Capt. Al

And with that, we bid a fond (hopefully temporary) farewell to our aquatic friend.

So thanks, pal...I enjoyed the above immensely, as I (and doubtless our readers) have enjoyed the entire series.

I gotta admit, Captain -- I'm not sure I particularly get Molina. I found your exegesis intriguing, nonetheless, and I'll be sure to keep an eye on her.

But in the meantime, thanks again Al -- see ya soon, and keep on rockin' in the free world!!!😎😎😎

Bob Andrews 1949 - 2025

Oh hell. My all-time favorite rock keyboardist (alright, tied with Nicky Hopkins) passed last Thursday.

He was my favorite member of Brinsley Schwarz, and my favourite member of The Rumour.

Here he is with the former, performing perhaps the most gorgeously lyrical Hammond organ part in the history of music.

And here he is with Nick Lowe, performing perhaps the greatest insane piano part freaking ever.

I should also add that he produced this.

Okay, I have to add this wonderful story about the guy.

The short version: So Andrews was, not surprisingly, a huge fan of The Band's keyboard genius Garth Hudson, and was constantly updating his gear in emulation of the Great Man Himself; if there was an effects pedal or amp Hudson used, Andrews would immediately add it to his arsenal, trying to get that elusive Hudson sound. Only problem was, no matter what he did, he couldn't quite achieve total Garth-ness and it drove him nuts.

Anyway, sometime in the 70s, The Band toured the UK and at one point wound up rehearsing at the Brinsley's studio and using their equipment. Garth walked in, said nothing to anybody, turned all of Andrews' keyboards and other equipment on, put his fingers to the keys, and immediately sounded just like himself.

And Andrews, who had been lurking in a corner too awed to even say hello to his idol, literally wept.

Goddamn -- as I am wont to say of late, this death shit is really starting to piss me off.

La Fin de La Semaine Essay Question: Special "Don't Let the Door Hit You on the Way Out" Edition

So I chanced across this quite fabulously evocative photo the other day.

That is, of course, the pre-Grace Slick edition of Jefferson Airplane, with (now mostly forgotten by history) original gal singer Signe Toly Anderson up front in Grace's slot; it is, apparently, the last official portrait of that lineup, taken around the time of the splendid farewell concert immortalized in the album pictured below.

In any case, I had never seen it before, and it got me to thinking (yeah, yeah, I can hear the jokes...). 😎

And that lead me (and us) inexorably to the subject of today's business.

To wit:

...and the best example of a band that was either significantly better OR markedly inferior after a personnel change is...????

Discuss.

I'm gonna nominate these guys in the former category, and I say that knowing full well that the Peter Green or Danny Kirwan editions of the band were pretty swell in their own rights.

But I mean, sweet jeebus, was that lot to die for or what? (I should add that it is one of the great regrets of my life that the Floor Models never got around to covering "Go Your Own Way.")

But enough of my yakkin' -- what would YOUR choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

P.S.: A special coveted PowerPop No-Prize© will be awarded to any reader who can tell me definitively whether the partially obscured band member behind Marty Balin in the top right of the picture is either Skip Spence or later drummer Spencer Dreyden. From a chronological standpoint, it should be Dreyden, but I'm just not sure I see it.

Thursday's Cartoon Chuckle(s)

Sorry -- I'm having (non-life threatening) medical problems, and I forgot to post the serious thing I was supposed to put up today.

Enjoy these in the meantime, won't you? 😎

Real stuff goes up on Friday -- promise.

Wednesday's Cartoon Chuckle(s)

Heh. 😎

Actual music posting resumes on the morrow, weather permitting.

Cinematic Notes From All Over: The Best Kept Secret in the West

As you may have noticed, we seem to be living in a Golden Age of rock documentaries. For example, I saw Becoming Led Zeppelin the other day, and trust me -- it was more fun than actually enduring the Zep live in concert. And then yesterday I saw another one, by an artist I actually like, that -- fortuitously -- I can recommend without reservations.

I'm speaking, of course about...

Aptly titled The King of In Between, the film chronicles the remarkable half century-long musical odyssey of Garland Jeffreys, a dreadlocked Brooklyn born and NYC-based singer/songerwriter who never quite broke through to a mass audience despite several major label albums and at least one song -- "Wild in the Streets" -- that was a massive hit outside of the USA. Why isn't he a household name? Well, basically nobody ever quite figured out how to market him, as Jeffries' music and persona straddled genres -- r&b, reggae, Dylan-esque narratives, street punk a la Lou Reed (with whom Jeffreys went to college) -- and influences in a way that inevitably caused the kind of confusion that doesn't easily make for chart success, especially for a mixed-race guy.

The film, deftly helmed by first-time director Claire Jeffreys (yes, the missus) has all sorts of great performance footage, from the downtown late-'70s to some intimate house concerts done before Jeffrey's retirement a few years ago, and celebrity fans like Laurie Anderson, Harvey Keitel, Vernon Reid (who has, as you might expect, some interesting things to say about Jeffreys and race in America) and Bruce Springsteen show up with fond reminiscences of working with the guy. Jeffreys himself comes off as funny, likeable and (surprisingly) without a trace of the bitterness I would have exhibited if I'd had his career (heh).

Bottom line: A must-see; it's playing in theaters now, so if it's near you, make tracks. In the meantime, you can find out more -- including alerts for when it will be available on home video or streaming -- over at the film's official website HERE.

I Don't Think Sibelius Done It This Way

And speaking as we were over the weekend of The McCoys' transplendent recording of "Beat the Clock," I stumbled across this one-man remake of it -- by a Finnish(!) musician named (near as I can tell) Ilkka Heikki -- and I gotta say, it's the most wonderful unintentionally funny thing ever.

Of course, that's assuming it's meant straight, which I'll grant you is indeterminate. I mean the accent alone...he sounds like Madeline Kahn doing Marlene Dietrich, so who knows?

I should add that a) I can find no information about who or what this guy is, so if anybody has an idea...and also b) that if you look on YouTube you'll discover some equally surreal/hilarious Beatles covers by him.

But don't worry -- I'm not gonna inflict THOSE on you. 😎